John arrived to 221b Baker Street an hour later. At first he walked around the empty apartment looking around. It looked the same, just empty. He stayed a bit longer in Sherlock's room. Looking at the empty bed. Then he went up to his old room. There he started to hang up the clothes to dry. Then he sat down on his bed. It all looked the same as it had done two years ago when he'd lived there. He picked up the phone to see if Sherlock had texted him. But he hadn't. John felt so bad for leaving him at the hospital. He's heart ached for Sherlock. He felt so alone and so lost. He tried to call him on the phone but no one did answer. He wanted to explain everything, but not in texts. He sat there and stared at the phone when it suddenly rang.
- Sherlock...! John gasped when he answered.
- No, not this time John, Mycroft said.
- Oh, hello Mycroft.
- Hello John. I'm calling to tell you that I'm leaving Sherlock now. I've been there all day.
- How is he?
- Physically he's fine John, mentally is another story.
- Oh...
- What happened between you John? He's not talking to me. And he's refusing help with his drug problem.
- But he's gonna be ok?
- As I said, he's gonna be fine physically, but mentally John. I really don't know. But the doctors are sending him home tomorrow afternoon.
- Oh that's good, John said. I'm already here at Baker Street.
- Oh, really, so Mary kicked you out then?
- Yes she did...
- I'm not surprised, I saw what she saw. And it looked suspicious John.
- I know, but it was nothing, John lied not wanting to tell all truth to Mycroft.
- Don't lie to me John, you know I know.
- Yes, of course you know.
- See you tomorrow John.
- Wait, but if you knew all the time why did you ask me what happened?
- I wanted you to say it out loud, you fool.
- Oh, okay then...
- Later John!
- Tomorrow, Mycroft.
The next day John felt nervous. He didn't know what to do, so he ended up walking around the flat, picking up stuff just to put it down in the same place again. Pacing around without a goal. Preparing a cup of tea, just to forget to drink it. Mrs Hudson had made him something to eat, but he'd forgotten about that too and now it was cold and not tasty. Finally he ended up in his old chair silently waiting for Sherlock to come home. He was sat there deep in thought when he heard the door open downstairs. John stopped breathing and looked up, all awake. Heavy footsteps, two pairs, walking up the stairs. Mycroft was the first to walk in to the room. John stood up. They nodded a silent hello to each other. Then Sherlock appeared in the doorway. Tall, dark and handsome. He looked tired, dark circles around his eyes. And he looked thin, which worried John. He was dressed in the white t-shirt from the hospital, pyjama pants and his coat. When Sherlock saw John, his eyes darkened but he didn't look away. He kept his eyes fixed on Johns. Mycroft saw what was going on and rolled his eyes.
- Hi... was all John was able to say. His mouth felt parched.
Sherlock looked at him a bit longer, same look in his eyes.
- I should go and change. Sherlock said. Excuse me.
Then he hurried in to his room and closed the door. John stared after him, then he sighed and sat down again. Mycroft appeared beside him.
- Give it some time, John.
John nodded.
- Are you sure about what you want? Mycroft continued.
- Yes I am, John sighed, I really am.
- That's good. Mycroft said, warmth in his voice. I'm gonna leave you two alone now. I bet you have a lot to talk about. Take care of him for me, alright?
- Yes, I'm gonna try.
- And the place is clean?
- Clean?
- Yes, no drugs?
- Yeah, it's clean. Mrs Hudson had already checked everything before I arrived.
- Good.
- Yes.
- Good luck John.
- Thank you.
Mycroft started to walk out of the apartment, but he turned around and faced John one last time.
- You are the best thing in his life, make him see it.
Then Mycroft walked away. John heard the shower starting and knew that Sherlock was inside. John felt the urge to go in and join him and he tried to think of anything other than Sherlock naked and wet, but he really couldn't. A moment later Sherlock appeared in the kitchen. His hair wet and messy, just wearing an unbuttoned bathrobe and boxers. John just stared. Did he do this just to torment him? Sherlock started to look around the kitchen. He put the kettle on for tea and stumbled around looking for something to eat. John stood up and watched him.
- No clothes, really? John said
- I have a bathrobe, Sherlock said not paying attention to John, it's more than I had when I visited Buckingham Palace.
- Yeah, that's true.
Sherlock had made himself a sandwich and started to eat it, still walking around the kitchen.
- Do you want tea John? He said with his mouth full.
- No thank you.
- Oh, ok. More for me!
He poured a cup for himself. He started drinking it while still pacing nervously around in the kitchen.
- Are you ok? John asked.
- Me? Yeah, I'm fine, Sherlock said.
Sherlock's body was shaking and he walked around nervously.
- Are you gonna live here again?
- If it's ok with you, John said.
- Yes, yes it's fine. It's all fine. I'm fine, Sherlock said sarcastically
Sherlock drew his fingers through his hair, up and away from his face. His face was in darkness, his eyes were shifting around and didn't look at John.
- Can we sit down for a while? John asked quietly.
- I don't wanna sit.
- Please Sherlock...
- NO!
Sherlock shouted at John. John looked at Sherlock, he was hurt.
- I just want to explain myself, John started.
- No! I don't wanna sit. I don't wanna hear your explanation. I already know what you're gonna say and I don't want to hear it!
Sherlock looked right at John, his eyes were dark and angry and that made John angry too.
- Really?! You know what I'm gonna say. Sherlock is so smart he knows everything with just a look.
John shouted at Sherlock. Sherlock did not answer.
- So tell me, what was I gonna say!
- No.
- Tell me!
- No!
They stared at each other across the room, challenging each other with looks only.
- So you knew how I was gonna tell you that I fucking love you you fucking idiot! John shouted. I'm in love with you! In. Love. With. You - you stupid moron!
At this John stopped shouting and then he whispered with shivers in his voice.
- I love you Sherlock...
John and Sherlock's eyes bore into each other's. John looked down, put both his hands over his face and sat down in Sherlock's chair. The anger fell away. He felt tears in his eyes, running down his face, but he didn't want to show them to Sherlock. Sherlock did not move for a long time. Then he hurried in to his room and closed the door.