When John came to 221B (he refused to call it "home" any more) to retrieve his personal things after staying on Mike's couch for three weeks, he fully expected to be greeted by a black car or the man with the umbrella himself. Deep inside he hoped for Mycroft's arrogant voice telling him (again) that caring is not an advantage and that John should have stayed out of Sherlock's life.
The street was empty though, the brisk autumn night not being too inviting for a stroll and it seemed everyone had a loved one to be at home with.
Well, everyone except for John.
The doctor fished his keys out of the pockets of his dark jeans. Sherlock's favourite pair on him, he remembered with a sad smile. Pushing the front door open, he saw a light coming from Mrs. Hudson's flat. He went to knock on her door which was left ajar but his former landlady was already on her feet and standing before him.
"Oh dear, it's good to see you're finally home. You two had quite a domestic, hadn't you? I'm worried about him, he hasn't left the flat since you stormed off. I brought him food but you know him, he's not one to eat a lot. Especially these days.", she said, almost on the verge of tears.
"He's been worse that he was after your wedding. I don't know what to do about him any more. I'm sorry, you've finally come back and I'm chatting with you! You should go up, off you go, John."
With her last words, Mrs. Hudson shoved John in direction of the stairs, almost making him trip over the first step. When he first entered the house, he wanted to tell her he only came back for his belongings, but now he didn't have the heart to do so.
Instead he climbed the stairs, which seemed steeper and darker than ever, to go "into battle" as Sherlock might have put it. He feared to find the detective in a puddle of vomit, to have died from on overdose.
But when he opened the hardwood door, said man seemed to be almost relaxed as he knelt in front of the fireplace, throwing pieces of paper into the flames.
"Uhm, hello... Sherlock. I just wanted to call you Mr. Holmes, but given our history that seemed stupid. So... you don't have to turn around. No need to make it more awkward than it is. I'm just here to get my stuff. Suppose you haven't already boxed it, so it might take a few minutes. Sorry to disturb you."
All this he said rather to a mob of black curls than to the man himself. When John had reached the stairs that led up to his old room to fetch an empty bag, he was shocked to hear a thin voice instead of a full and dark baritone one.
"The answer... it would have been yes. You're probably not interested in knowing but I thought... well, I thought it would be easier to get over it. Now you know you're the one who won. My heart, my brain, this... I don't know what this is."
Without thinking about it, John crossed the living room, his hands balled as fists. When he reached Sherlock, he grabbed a bunch of dark hair and yanked the detective's head back.
"Don't you dare, Sherlock! Don't you dare making ME feel guilty and bad about it. YOU are the one who ruined everything. You knew about my trust issues. You knew how afraid I was of losing you after you threw yourself off a roof. Hell, you knew about my ex-wife who was lying and cheating on me the whole bloody time. And still...", he tightened his grip on Sherlock's head "still you decided to betray me. Because you think you know everything. Well, surprise! You don't."
John let his fingers slip from the hair he gripped fiercely and suddenly all of his strength left him. Sobbing quietly he slid down to the floor next to Sherlock who hadn't said a word since John started his rant. Instead he wanted to hug John, pull him close and tell him that everything will be fine. But he knew it was off-limits, so he simply shuffled a bit closer and listened to the sound of John's sobs as well as the gentle crackling of the fire.
At least five minutes went by before Sherlock dared to say something, fearing he might lose his only chance to solve the most important problem of his life.
"John. When I say I'm sorry, I know that it's not nearly enough. So I will spare you and me the pain of apologies that won't do any good. Instead I have to admit you're right. I'm not a smart man when it comes to relationships and it seems I have miscalculated. Or as you would say – I fucked up big time. If there's anything I could do to make you feel better, please let my know. I'd like to inform you that I was miserable over the last three weeks. Of course Mrs. Hudson has already told you so. But I didn't harm myself and I certainly didn't do any drugs. I'm sure Mycroft would be happy to confirm that."
When John didn't react at all, Sherlock took a deep breath before going on.
"I realized though that without you, I don't have any reason to live any more. Please don't regard this as a suicide threat. I'm simply stating my feelings here. You're not a part of my life, John. You ARE my life. Blogger, friend, lover, chef, caretaker, doctor. I wouldn't need any other person in my life if I had you. And I want you. With all of my brain. My brain, which makes some very stupid deductions once in a while. I know this whole... thing can't be fixed by telling you how I feel. I know there's work to do. But for you, John, I'd work on myself as hard as I can. I want to become a better human being for you. You know I'm not one to beg but tonight I am. Please John, come back home and give me a chance to prove that I could be the one you want to spend the rest of your life with. Please."
It took all of Sherlock's strength for him to sit and wait for an answer. Even if John would yell at him again, it would be welcome. He knew he should be the one making John happy instead of hurting him more than anyone else had ever done.
Sherlock thought John must have fallen asleep when there was no response and he wanted to give in to temptation and turn his head to look at his doctor.
Even bigger was his surprise when he felt a head lean onto his shoulder and he noticed the light lemon smell of John's favourite shampoo.
No words were spoken that night and it was far from any "and they lived happily ever after". But it was a beginning to their very own fairy tale.
