John silently slid the teacup across the table towards Sherlock, silently commanding the other man to drink. Sherlock ignored the cup, looking anxiously at the window. "It's sunset."

"Yes it is, Sherlock."

"I want to go outside."

"You can't." John crossed his legs, taking a sip from his own cup. "I'd worry about you."

"You'd not. Come on, five minutes! I can find out so much if I'm out when he is."

"You'll sit here and wait until sunrise, like a normal person," John chuckled. He reached out under the table to give Sherlock's knee a squeeze. "You're not going to listen to me though, are you? You rarely ever do."

Sherlock looked down at the hand on his knee with shock before slowly covering it with one of his own. "Come with me."

"No. I want to be here to welcome you back once you're five minutes are up. You will be back after five minutes...right?"

"Not ten?"

"Five."

"Seven?"

"Five."

"Six?"

"If you keep asking, I'll lower the time."

"Ten?"

"Four."

"Alright, five."

"Good boy." John smiled, giving Sherlock's hand a squeeze before pulling his hand away. Sherlock reluctantly released John's hand, but he continued to silently stare down at where their hands had been. After a few minutes, John looked up, giving his friend a puzzled look. "Sherlock?"

"Did you ever bother to look for a wife?"

"Excuse me?"

"Did you ever bother? I mean...did you ever like someone enough to want to spend the rest of your life with them?"

"No, Sherlock. Like you, I was married to my work."

"And now?"

"I have my work and you to take care of. I don't have time for a wife."

"You should consider it. Marriage. You can't spend the rest of your life taking care of me."

"What?" John looked at him with wide eyes. He felt a large lump form in his throat and the room suddenly felt so cold.

"Once this case is solved, I'm going home, to London. That's where I'm needed. The city would crumble and burn without me. But you...you're meant to stay here, in Baskerville. You're meant to get married and have children and whatever else people consider appropriate."

"But...what about...this?" John waved his hand between the both of them.

"I don't understand."

"Our relationship!"

"John, you know that..."

"I know! I mean our partnership! Our friendship! Are you saying that those things are temporary?"

"Of course. All relationships are temporary. It was only a matter of time before this one was meant to end."

"You..." John could feel the tears in his eyes, but he would be damned if he shed one. "You don't know what you're talking about."

"Yes I do. I knew what was going to happen once the case was solved. I had hopes that you would be mildly intelligent and also understand."

"But...but I..." John couldn't breath. He felt like his heart was shattering inside him, and the one person who could heal it was the one breaking it. "I thought..."

"Leave the thinking to me, John. I always was better at it than you. You can make the tea and provide me with the reports I need."

"So that's...that's all I am to you? A tea server and an informant?!"

"Please lower your voice, John. You're always irritating when you yell."

"I have a good reason to yell! I thought we were friends, Sherlock. Partners at the very least! Now I'm being told that I'm only good for serving tea and giving you reports! Not only that, but once the case is finished, I can expect to be abandoned! How do you think that makes me feel, Sherlock? Do you have any idea in that cold heart of yours?"

"John, it's ok. It's alright now."

"No it's not!" John threw his hands up in the air, pushing his chair back. He stormed over to the doorway, looking back at Sherlock. "Friends protect people, Sherlock. It's no wonder you don't have any. You had me, and now you've proven that you can hurt me worse than any friend."

"John..." Sherlock quickly stood up but John had already slammed the door shut and run upstairs to his room. He slammed the door and felt his knees give out. He slid down the wood, collapsing onto the floor. Now that he was safe and away from those seductive gray eyes, he could let his tears fall freely. He wanted to sob and scream and yell, but he couldn't seem to force a sound past his lips. All his body could give him was more tears.

John opened his eyes, first noticing how the morning sun's light had made a small golden puddle on his floor. He looked up and rubbed the sleep from his eyes, noting unpleasantly that they were also extremely puffy from the shed tears. He hadn't heard Sherlock come up, so he assumed the wanker was still downstairs, waiting for his tea. John was determined to only make enough for a single cup.

He went downstairs, noticing that it was strangely quiet considering that Sherlock would probably be awake, as usual. He was shocked to see that there was a severe lack of destruction, experiments, cadavers and Sherlock. A part of him was glad that he could avoid any unpleasantness about last night, but he found that worry quickly took over. Where was he? Had he gone out last night? Oh God, would John discover that Sherlock was the new casualty? John realized a little while later that he had begun pacing, almost subconsciously. He was angry at the detective, no doubt about it, but he still considered himself to be Sherlock's friend.

"John..." John looked up anxiously, recognizing the voice. He was alive. Sherlock was alive, thank God. "John..." Why was his voice so weak? Was he feeling guilty? John ran to the door and gasped loudly. Sherlock stood in the doorway, completely naked and covered in blood. The great Sherlock Holmes also looked terrified. "John...what happened last night?"

I'm so sorry for this short chapter, but that's just the way this story wanted to be formatted lol The next chapter will be an apology since it's significantly longer than this one!

Please, reviews are the lifeblood of this story. Even just one is enough to inspire :)

Happy Thanksgiving!