Chapter Five

A week later and Sherlock hadn't made another move. John decided that he wouldn't make any move at all because than it would be so much more painful when the inevitable happened. However, he couldn't help but be upset that Sherlock hadn't tried anything else. He couldn't blame the man though... Right when he had grabbed his hand John had left him. If that didn't scream rejection he honestly didn't know what did, but that was the thing... it wasn't rejection it was just impeccably bad timing.

John knew he had to start getting a move on things, but he didn't think Sherlock was ready yet... However, the problem was, was that Sherlock was ready and John knew that... he just didn't want to end this... he didn't want to break Sherlock like he said he would so he was forcing himself not to see it.

They got back from a case one night and Sherlock was in a bad mood because he couldn't solve it. Of course he couldn't solve it... John was the cause of it and he hated himself for it. That was a first and he didn't like it. "It's fine... you'll catch him eventually..." Of that John was certain, but that was because John would have to reveal himself to Sherlock and it and then Sherlock would understand. He would also hate John, though he supposed that didn't matter because he was supposed to torture him.

"Ha!" Sherlock growled and flopped down on the couch.

John swallowed and walked over to him with tea. He sat down on the coffee table in front of Sherlock and sighed, "Here..."

Sherlock thought about rejecting it, but didn't. He slowly took the cup and sat up. He looked down into the mug and swallowed hard. He didn't know what to say, but he wanted to talk to John about so many things... he was just frightened.

John sighed and looked at him, "What's on your mind?"

He shook his head once and didn't say anything.

John debated on what to do because he could tell something was clearly wrong, but the John Sherlock knew wasn't supposed to be that clever. However, he felt that Sherlock's John was good at being able to tell when something was wrong so he slowly put a hand on Sherlock's knee, "You know you can tell me anything..."

"I know... just... I know it's stupid, but when I can't solve a case I'm afraid you'll... I don't know... you'll stop putting up with me and leave..."

John's heart hurt because he understood everything Sherlock was saying. Even though he didn't have friends he could understand. He knew it was silly, but he always fantasised about having friends... and then he would have nightmares that when he stopped being clever they would leave him because they weren't there for him, they were there for his brain, "Sherlock... I'm not here because you can solve cases..."

"Then why are you here John!" He snapped and glared at him, "Because I can't for the life of me figure that out! I keep thinking that you'll end up leaving, but you keep staying! No one ever stays and yet here you are! You're my friend... and I would even consider you my best friend, but I know you don't feel the same!" He growled. "Sorry– just..." He swallowed thickly, "I've never had a friend because no one has wanted to be my friend and I don't know... I don't know how to act... I–" He took a shaky breath and looked up at John, "I am so scared you will leave me, John, and I really can't have that..."

John swallowed hard because he knew it was time... this was what he had been waiting for and he hated every single minute of it, "You are my best friend, Sherlock... I'm not here because of how clever you are... or the fact that you can give me adventure. I'm not here because of the eyeballs in the fridge or the fact that you have money... I'm here because I like spending time with you... You make me smile when I'm sad and even when I'm not. I can see you for who you actually are and not for what the world sees you as. You aren't a freak, you aren't abnormal, you aren't weird... you are brilliant, and kind, and extraordinary and I don't care who believes that. I believe that and that's all that should matter." He smiled softly.

Sherlock's heart thrummed as he looked up at John. He had never felt this way with anyone and no one had ever said those things to him... it made him special... like he belonged, and that was something he had been searching for forever. Something he had given up on finding until John came along. He smiled softly and swallowed some, "John would you like to watch a movie with me...?"

John blinked a bit because he wasn't expecting that to come out of Sherlock's mouth after what he had just said, but he supposed that Sherlock tended to surprise him often. He nodded and slowly stood up a bit. He turned around and then sat on the couch next to Sherlock.

Sherlock picked up the remote and started to click through channels until he settled on James Bond movie. John seemed to like those and he wanted to please John. He didn't want to watch a movie at all, but he thought John did and that was what mattered.

John smiled and leaned back against the couch.

After a while Sherlock swallowed and then slowly wrapped an arm around John. His heart was pounding and he thought that that was tedious, but he hadn't tried to do anything with John since he tried to hold his hand. He was terrified John was going to reject him again, but instead he just hummed and nuzzled closer. He actually nuzzled to him and Sherlock's heart swelled.

John closed his eyes and wanted to pull away so badly, but he couldn't. He needed to do this because it was his job, but it hurt so much. He hadn't experienced this pain since he was three. He hated himself for it because he thought he closed off all feeling, but here he was. He didn't want to hurt Sherlock and yet he had no other choice. He was getting too attached and he didn't know what to do... He wanted to scream.

Sherlock kissed the top of his head and held him closer, "I don't know what you are to me, John, but... thank you." He whispered quietly.

John said nothing in return and just reached for Sherlock's hand.

~O~

Later that night John snuck out of the flat. He knew Sherlock would be able to tell he was gone, but he also knew that Sherlock wouldn't try to follow him or be able to tell where he went. He took a cab to his car and then drove to his mansion. He was panicking and he hated every minute of it. He didn't want to do this and he didn't want to admit to anyone that he didn't want to do this.

John swallowed hard as he walked into his house. It was quiet, but that was to be expected... It was late... Really late. And since John wasn't there at the moment there was no one to make messes... Basically this was just some long arse holiday that all his servants got to enjoy. He didn't mind though because they never got to take breaks and for some reason he was feeling generous.

He swallowed as he walked around his house. Looking at things, touching things. He didn't know why he was there but it seemed to calm him in a way that being a Baker Street couldn't. It wasn't that he hated it there... He absolutely loved it and that was the problem. He knew what was about to come of this all and he couldn't breathe!

"John?" A voice startled John out of his thoughts and he almost dropped the vase he was holding.

"Jesus!" He growled and turned to glare at what appeared to be Mike. "What the fuck?"

Mike winced and swallowed. He slowly put down the crowbar he had been holding and gave John a sheepish smile, "Sorry... Thought it was an intruder. Um, what are you doing here...?"

"I had to get out." He stated simply. "Sherlock was being annoying." He huffed, though there was no power behind it.

Mike could tell and he was so scared for what the real reason was, "John..." He warned slightly. "I may be stupid compared to you, but I can still read your emotions... I always have been able to..."

John scoffed a bit and looked down sadly, "Yeah, I suppose you have..."

"Do you want to talk about it..."

John opened his mouth to say something, but then snapped it shut and shook his head. He turned around and walked to his room without a word.

Now, if Mike was anyone else that lived in the mansion he would leave John be and go back to bed. However, Mike wasn't just anyone so he followed him. He was concerned for his friend – and yes, that's exactly what John was to him even if John didn't see that... He knocked on the door firmly, but softly, "Can I come in?"

John still didn't say anything, but after a moment the door creaked opened and Mike walked inside.

John walked back over and sat on his bed, staring at the hot tub in the corner of his room, "Someone's been using that..." He sighed. "Normally I would want to find them and kill them for that, but right now I don't care... Maybe they even deserve it..."

"Deserve to be killed?" He frowned and sat next to him.

"No, deserve to sit in the hot tub." He nodded some and then laid down and looked up at the ceiling.

Mike about choked on air and slowly laid down next to him. "That's... Different."

John just shrugged and didn't say anything for a while, "Sherlock's probably going to wonder where I am..."

"It's not like you care..." Mike sighed.

"Except for I do..." He swallowed and slowly looked at Mike, but Mike wasn't looking at him.

"Oh. I suppose you should. He might wonder where you are and then this whole thing would be blown..."

"That's..." He paused and pursed his lips, "Not why..." He whispered.

Mike knew... Of course he knew! But he was hoping he was wrong. He swallowed thickly, "John you can't-"

"I love him..." John blurted, cutting him off. "And I think I am slowly dying on the inside..."

Mike swore under his breath. "You can't love him John... You have a job to do and he's going to die either way."

"I know.. But maybe it would be better if I wasn't the one who killed him..." He whispered.

Mike growled and then slapped him. "John!"

John gasped and then glared at him, "What the fuck!" He narrowed his eyes.

"If you don't kill him you'll be on his shit list! And I don't give a flying fuck if you're suicidal and want to be, but you are not dragging the rest of your staff down with you!" He snapped. "Because that is what would happen! You don't love him you're just caught up in the moment of someone having feelings for you because you haven't ever experienced that! So grow the fuck up and start planning the last step!" With that he stood up and stormed out of the room, slamming the door.

John swallowed hard and then just broke down crying. He couldn't possibly tell you how long he cried for, but eventually the sun started to come up and John had to go back. He walked into the flat and Sherlock was there.

John swallowed hard and looked away.

"You were crying." He stated, "Why?"

John sighed. He was hoping that Sherlock would still be sleeping, but apparently not, "Reasons..."

Sherlock swallowed and didn't know what to do, only that he wanted to help. "What reasons..." He whispered.

John swallowed and knew he had two choices. He could tell Sherlock or he could shrug it off. He was going to tell him not to worry about it, but something else came out, "I don't want to lose you..."

Sherlock blinked and John looked away, "John..." He whispered, "Whatever gave you the impression that I was..."

John winced and growled at himself. "Sorry.. I don't- I don't know what came over me! Ignore that..."

"John… You're not going to lose me… I can assure you that much." He whispered quietly and stepped forward, "You have helped me so much… With Mycroft's disappearance and just… with everything. You've made me a better person and that's something that people have tried, and failed, to do. I want to be better because of you, John..." Sherlock swallowed and kept walking forward until he was practically touching his chest with John's.

John swallowed hard and looked up at him so that he could look into his eyes.

"You've made me feel loved and that– that is something very hard to do..." He swallowed hard and looked away.

John could tell he was uncomfortable and so was he, but he felt like this was something they needed to do, "You make me feel the same..." He whispered and slowly reached forward to grab Sherlock's hand. He entwined their fingers together and John slowly started to stand on his tip toes.

Sherlock used his free hand to run it through John's hair softly. He rested it on the back of John's neck and slowly started to pull him in. His heart was pounding, but he knew that this was the right thing. It felt right and that was all that mattered.

He closed his eyes and just when their lips were about to touch the door to their flat flew opened and John yanked away so fast he fell over and groaned.

Lestrade was just staring wide eyed at the pair and didn't know what to say at all, "Jesus..." He whispered.

"TIMING LESTRADE!" Sherlock screamed and glared at him.

"Right. Sorry this is all my fault of course," He rolled his eyes and then sighed, "Listen. We were mailed an envelope addressed to you, would you mind coming down and checking it out?"

John's heart just dropped and he swallowed hard. Mike just decided to go through with it... The big plan had been set in stone for months and he knew that John wasn't going to do a damn so he did it himself. This was it... This was the end... And it killed John.

Sherlock sighed, "Yes, I'll be down in a few moments."

John swallowed and slowly walked up to him once Greg had left. "Let's run away together..."

Sherlock choked on air and narrowed his eyes at him, "John! We have a case to solve! Maybe later... But I don't see why... We have a good life here..."

"Sherlock!" He snapped, "Forget about the bloody case and just pack your bags! For me! We can move to America or Australia and you can solve all the cases your little heart wants to! But let's just get a fresh start!"

Sherlock frowned, "What are you hiding from me, John?"

"NOTHING! I'm just sick of solving cases!" He growled.

"Cases are my life, John! You don't have to come if you don't want to, but don't try to force me into something that I don't want to do!" He growled and then stormed out of the flat.

John swallowed hard and closed his eyes. He counted to ten and then followed Sherlock. He knew he should apologise, but he couldn't... He was angry and that was their last chance... He decided to push all the feelings away and focus on the case like he had originally planned. He had never backed out of a clients request before, he wasn't about to now. He tried to run and he failed. He wasn't about to give Sherlock any second chances.

He sighed and slid into the cab with Sherlock. Sherlock was pouting on the other side and John couldn't take it. He looked down and sighed, "I'm sorry... That wasn't fair of me..."

Sherlock huffed and wouldn't look at him, "No, it wasn't."

"I just..." He stopped himself and swallowed hard. He couldn't tell Sherlock about who he really was, "I don't want you to get hurt on a case..." He whispered.

Sherlock smiled softly and finally looked at him. He took his hand and sighed, "I promise you, John... that wont happen." He whispered.

John gave a tight smile and nodded, "Okay..." Though he knew that wasn't true at all.

~O~

Once they got there Sherlock opened the envelope and frowned when he realised it was an exact replica of the Study in Pink case.

John looked at it and frowned, "What's this then?" He asked, even though he knew.

Sherlock frowned, "I'm not quite sure..."

John sighed and they waited. It beeped and the pictures of the shoes came on. Sherlock went to 221C and the shoes were sitting there. John played dumb like he always did and every move was killing him. They went through the woman in the car, and then the man on the busy road... the old woman who had to die. John thought he would care now that things were different... Now, that he loved Sherlock, but he didn't and that was why they couldn't be together. Sherlock hadn't changed him as much as he thought and maybe Mike was right about everything. He didn't love Sherlock... he just loved the attention. He didn't have a heart, he couldn't feel things. However that little voice in the back of his head kept echoing to him over and over again. 'Everyone has a heart, John. It's just a matter of finding it.' Sebastian's voice kept ringing.

And then Sherlock got the message about the body on the beach and they were off again, old woman forgotten. John was almost certain the little boy was going to die as well, but Sherlock managed to solve it just in time.

They went to the brother's house next and Sherlock was able to retrieve the memory stick. It was mesmerising to John how Sherlock was playing this out exactly how he wanted it to. However, it hurt him at the same time.

They went back to the flat and John sat down. He took a few deep breaths and then walked into the kitchen. He grabbed a bag of Sherlock's experiments and put it down the disposal.

Sherlock blinked and then ran to him, "What the hell, John!"

"I'm sick of the mess so I'm getting rid of it," He growled. "Jesus Sherlock! Could you be any messier!" he huffed and reached for another bag.

"STOP!" Sherlock growled and tried to yank it away, instead it sent the thumbs flying everywhere.

John didn't care because he tortured people for a living, but Sherlock's John would. He growled and then shoved Sherlock, "Clean. It. Up." He spat.

Sherlock glared daggers at him and then pinned him up against the wall, for the first time John was afraid of him, "No." He growled and then let John go.

John swallowed hard and shook his head, "Whatever." He huffed, "I'm going for a walk."

Sherlock just glared at him and didn't say a single thing. He had no idea what was wrong with John, but he didn't question it. John was just stressed.

John left the flat and then broke down on his way to the mansion.

~O~

John walked to his room and got dressed in one of his suits. He slicked back his hair and put his gun in the back of his trousers. He swallowed hard and took a deep breath. He splashed water on his face and told himself over and over again that he could do this. He stood up straight and took a deep breath and then walked to the pool.

~O~

Sherlock was hurt and angry at John. He didn't know why John was acting so funny! Yes, he was probably stressed – about their half confession and then not talking about it. Sherlock didn't see the big deal but he could see why it would bother John. He was kind and loving and that sort of stuff was important to him. He sighed and pulled out his laptop. He wasn't going to send the email saying he found the memory stick to his mystery killer, but with John angry at him and him angry at John he thought that he would. John wouldn't even know! By the time he got back from wherever it is he went Sherlock would be home and everything would be done with. He grinned slightly at the fact that he could finish this without John knowing. Then once it was done him and John could work on moving forward. Talking... Tedious, but necessary.

The reply was almost instant. The mystery man told him to meet him at the pool where little Carl died at midnight. Simple enough... He did have his doubts that John would come home while he was gone... Though, if that happened he would probably just assume he was in his room sulking. He slipped his coat on and then grabbed the memory stick. He took a deep breath and with one last moment of thought went upstairs to grab John's gun. He hummed and made sure it was loaded, and then left the flat.

~O~

John swallowed hard and hid behind the wall like he had planned. He could hear Sherlock open the door and walk inside. His heart sunk to know that this was actually happening, but he had to be strong and toughen up.

"Bit surprised you picked this place," Sherlock called out as he walked closer inside. "The pool where poor little Carl died is a bit much, don't you think? A bit tacky... Though, I'm not much of one to feel bad for people. However, he didn't have to die. John wouldn't be please at the fact that I don't care if died or not, but then again he isn't here..." He sighed and looked around.

John's jaw clenched a bit and he glared at the wall across from him. He wanted to say something, but he didn't trust his voice.

"Anyways... I have what you're looking for. The memory stick! That is what you wanted... Isn't it?" Sherlock hummed some.

John took a deep breath and then stepped out from the shadows. He cocked his gun and pointed it at Sherlock, "No, actually I wanted you." He growled a bit because talking with no emotion just wouldn't happen. He had to settle with anger.

Sherlock's back was turned so he couldn't see who it was – oh but he could hear him just fine... His voice cut through the room and echoed and Sherlock's heart felt like it was breaking. There had to be an obvious explanation, but all that came out of his mouth was, "John...?" He spun around and pointed his gun right at him. Yes, he hoped it was a trick, but he couldn't take chances and John was pointing a gun at him...

John laughed and shook his head as he stepped forward, "Surprised you didn't catch on sooner. I took you to be a genius, Sherlock Holmes. Though, I guess in all fairness you were never once able to solve my crimes so it only made sense that you weren't able to solve this one either." He huffed.

Sherlock wanted to cry and wasn't that just tedious. He knew it wasn't a trick because John looked different... He held himself differently, his hair was slicked back, he wasn't in those ghastly jumpers... And for the first time Sherlock could actually deduce him... Assassin, parents left him when he was younger, miserable, lives in a mansion with slaves, Mike works with him, and so on... And then he realised that John was letting him see all that and it hurt him more than anything. John was showing him all of this to tell him it wasn't a trick... This was really happening right now and it terrified Sherlock. And then Sherlock got angry because he had loved this man. He had loved everything this man was, but the man he loved was fictional and wasn't there at all, "So everything we did – everything you said! That meant nothing to you?"

John swallowed hard and his face softened. He looked pained and he opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out so he tried again, "I'm sorry..." He whispered.

"I LOVED YOU!" Sherlock screamed and his hand holding the gun started shaking.

"And wasn't that just the thing that made this all work..." He swallowed hard. "I needed you to love me, Sherlock. I needed you to break... You didn't love me; you loved some man I made up. He doesn't exist, Sherlock! He never will!" He growled and clenched the gun tighter in his hands. He wanted so badly for that man to exist, but he didn't and that pained him.

And then Sherlock broke. He started crying and he just threw the gun across the room. He was actually surprised it didn't go off when it hit the wall and fell to the floor. "No! He's in there somewhere! I know it! Come back to me... Please!" He whimpered and wanted to run to John, but he stayed where he was.

John's throat squeezed and he shook his head, "He's not... I was hired to torture you for months, but... I'll make it quick."

And then Sherlock's eyes snapped opened and he swallowed hard. "Torture..." He echoed. "All those gruesome cases that I couldn't solve... Those were you...?" He whispered.

"Of course they were me!" John snapped, "Who else would they be? See, people think you are so fucking smart, but I can outwit you!"

Sherlock swallowed hard and shook his head. That wasn't important now. "So... This is it then? You're going to kill me?" He spat, "But you're not following through with your mission. You said you were supposed to torture me so why the fuck aren't you following through?" He snapped.

John swallowed hard and tried to look away, but Sherlock was glaring at him and he felt like it was impossible to look away, "Sherlock, don't..."

"It's because you feel the same way!" He growled, "You don't have to do this! We'll run away! Just like you said..." He whispered quietly and continued to step forward.

"DON'T MOVE!" He screamed, but Sherlock kept moving anyway.

He got up right next to John, so that the barrel of the gun was pressed against his chest. He raised his hands and wrapped them around John's hands, "John..." He whispered quietly, "Please..."

John choked on a sob and looked up at Sherlock. He didn't want to do it... he didn't want to do it ever, but he had no choice, "I'm sorry..." He whispered quietly and then pulled the trigger.