Warnings: Eventual Johnlock slash (Rating could go up), Unbeta'd, I'm not British, Bullying Mentions of drug abuse, AU
Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock.
More notes at the end of Chapter.
Days would turn into months, which would include many 'dark moods', slamming doors, midnight chases through the alleyways of London, and a vindictive man named Moriarty. Things had been going great until John becomes a hostage to a crazed psychopath at a pool. When John first steps out into view, and Sherlock's eyes meet his, he can see a flash of hurt and anger before Sherlock's face blanks entirely. Moriarty steps out, Sherlock slowly exhales but no other sign of relief is shown. John reveals then that he is wrapped in explosives and from then, it is a battle of wits to see who would escape alive.
This particular case ends with an explosion and a quick, reflexive move on John's part that plunges both, blogger and detective, into the icy waters of the pool. When both heads resurfaced, all that remained on the scene was blackened scorch marks and bits of debris floating in the water.
As they travel home, Moriarty's morbid threat hangs heavily on their minds. "I'll burn the heart out of you!" Sherlock realizes that is exactly what John is. His heart. They ascend the stairs in an awkward silence that entails both have something to say but can't (won't) say it. Both parties are equally tired but the adrenaline keeps them awake. John has a feeling that if he could go to sleep, he wouldn't be able to, due to images of 'what if's' haunting his dreams. Instead of heading up the stairs to his room, John goes into the kitchen to make tea. He retrieves two cups, mostly out of habit, and places them on the counter. He retrieves the kettle and tea bags from their hiding place and puts the kettle on to boil.
When the kettle slowly begins to heat, John feels his legs give out and slowly slides down the counter onto the kitchen floor. There, he clutches his knees to his chest and places his head on his knees. 'I could have died tonight. Sherlock could have died tonight…...Sherlock...' All other thoughts recede from his mind as he begins to imagine the world without this infuriating man. He doesn't notice the other man's presence, he doesn't hear the kettle whistle signaling it has finished boiling, and he doesn't hear the other man cutting off the stove and remove said offending kettle. What John does notice is the warm heat of a body sitting next to him on the kitchen floor. When John lifts his head he is met with cool, calculating, verdigris eyes that seem to know what he is always thinking.
Sherlock can read the terror of the evening and an overwhelming fear on John's expressive face. Sherlock slowly grabs John's hand and places it over his beating heart. John leans forward and lightly presses his lips to cupid-bowed ones.
The kiss is chaste but John's eyes flutter closed as he feels a jolt of electricity run through his veins. John pushes forward slightly, as if to deepen the kiss, but Sherlock has not moved and has remained completely rigid. John jerks away with burning cheeks and wide eyes when he sees Sherlock's shocked expression. "I-I'm so sorry! I shouldn't have done that.. Look, let's just forget this had ever happened. You can delete it. I know you don't feel that way about me. You probably haven't felt that way about anyone before." John laughs nervously before continuing, "Like I said, we can just delete this and pretend it has never happened. After all I'm not gay. I just-" John quickly stops speaking when he notices Sherlock's forlorn expression.
"Are you mocking me? Is that it? Let's play with Sherlock's feelings! He can't possibly care!" Sherlock says as he quickly stands, " He doesn't have a heart! After all he is threadless. Even his soul mate didn't want him! Sherlock doesn't have feelings! Who could possibly want or need Sherlock Holmes!?" Sherlock's breathing hitched at that last part and he quickly turns away from the confused army doctor. John rises to his feet as well and reaches forward, "No! That isn't it at all! Sherlock, I-." Before John can even touch him, Sherlock has moved and is quickly walking to his room. A hand comes up and wipes across an angular face and John realizes that Sherlock is crying. A door is slammed and John is left alone.
John walks over to the door and gently knocks but receives no answer. After several minutes of consistent knocking and still no reply, John trudges up to his room and slumps down onto the bed. Hours later, when the house is still and John is asleep in bed, Sherlock would venture out of his room to retrieve his violin. He would draw the bow across the strings, turn the peg slightly, and then proceeds to play.
John wakes up with a start. He isn't sure what has awoken him but that no longer matters because he hears music. It isn't the type of music Sherlock normally plays. He has heard Sherlock torture the stringed instrument, he has heard him compose pieces with such beauty that could make you cry, but he has never heard such a morose, heartbreaking piece being drawn out of the varnished violin. The high notes are quickly drowned out by low, melancholic tones that John can feel and his heart sinks in his chest as each mournful sound resonates throughout the near silent flat.
When the song ends, the flat is plunged into silence once more.
Notes: Sherlock may seem a bit OOC but I figured that if someone had been verbally tortured consistently throughout their life, you have a right to be a little bit hurt by someone you love. Yes, I'll let that escape now, Sherlock does love John but he is a little bit confused at the moment. Give him time, he'll make it :). I have this thing for crying Sherlock (I'm a bit of a masochist). It causes my chest to go all tight and heart to hurt... That makes me sound like a weirdo O.o Anyway, I'm rambling. I hope you enjoy the story!
This is the song I imagine Sherlock playing watch?v=9n49-W3cX8g (A Time for Us)