A/N: I'm glad to read that you seem to still enjoy my little story. For those who have theories, sorry I didn't get back to you, but I don't want to spoil anything.

So I hope you'll enjoy the next chapter. And because some people asked: there will be a total of 20 chapters.

Thanks to ML for proofreading. You are awesome!

Two Glasses

"I protected you from those who tried to harm you.
And I believed you though I knew the words were lies.
But it was me who had to say that I was sorry.
It was always me you cut right down to size.
How do you feel when the tables have been turned?
What will you do now the bridges have been burned?"
- Gaudi – The Musical, Too Late

Though Sherlock spent the next days at St. Bart's, he didn't talk much to Molly. Well, that was an understatement; he didn't talk to her at all and tried to avoid her as best as he could. Most of the time he locked himself in the lab, where he ran tests he didn't tell anyone about. Without question, occupying the lab so much caused problems and controversy, still Sherlock remained unimpressed and continued his work.

So on day three, after being called by Mike Stamford and Molly again, John Watson took it upon himself once more to talk to his best friend in the hopes of figuring out what was going on. He didn't have any illusions that it would go smoothly, still he wanted to give it a try. After all he was a hopeless optimist when it came to Sherlock Holmes.

John was surprised that the lab was not locked and that he could enter without issue. Sherlock sat hunched over a report of some sort, his eyes scanning the page.

John waited patiently for the consulting detective to acknowledge his presence. When that didn't happen, he cleared his throat loudly and said, "Sherlock, will you explain to me what is going on? You've locked yourself in here and made it impossible for the doctors and students to work."

Sherlock didn't look up from the page he was reading. "Leave me alone John."

"Not until you have told me what's going on."

"None of your business. You have another child to take care of now, remember. Go back home before Mary has to come look for you."

"You're being cruel."

"I'm merely being honest."

"With you, that's mostly the same."

When Sherlock still didn't look up from his work, John sighed and tried another approach, "You hide in your work."

Sherlock replied drily, "I'm used to relying on intellect."

John crossed his arms in front of his chest, getting more and more annoyed with his best friend.

"Why are you being so dismissive of Molly all of a sudden?"

Finally that made Sherlock look up from whatever he was reading.

"It's complicated," he said coldly.

Had the situation not been so frustrating, John would have chuckled. Instead he said without any humour in his voice, "I figure that 90% of all relationship talks include that line."

Sherlock's face became a stony mask and John knew he had hit a nerve. "We're not having a relationship talk!"

John nodded, "Believe me, we are."

Sherlock was about to turn back to his notes, when John gave it another try, "I've seen you two gaze at one another."

Sherlock's eyes narrowed dangerously. "I do not gaze at Molly Hooper."

The amount of contempt the consulting detective said it with made it almost comical. They stared at each other for a moment, both daring the other to say more.

Finally John had enough, threw his hands up in the air in frustration and ranted, "I've been so busy trying to come up with feeble excuses for you - he doesn't know, he doesn't understand, he's oblivious, he's suffering from Asperger's … When I just didn't want to see the truth, which was is much simpler and more cruel. You just plain don't care."

John's words seem to leave the consulting detective unimpressed, and he stated without emotion, "You told me I was not capable of love."

John rolled his eyes, "I've never said such a thing."

A crooked smile formed on Sherlock's lips, "You said I should not give Molly hope where there was none."

The former army doctor shook his head, "I didn't mean… that's not what I meant."

"Why do people never say what they mean?" Sherlock seemed frustrated and desperate at the same time. John could hardly blame him. Fundamentally, he felt the same, although for different reasons.

John took a deep breath and tried to explain, "I know that you are capable of love. Sometimes you show it in a weird way – by throwing people out of a window or jumping off roofs – but I believe that once you love, you love fiercely. I meant that you should not give her hope of a relationship if you were not interested getting together with her."

Sherlock's expression changed. His black brows drew together, his forehead contracted, his eyes became vacant and far away. For a moment John was not sure if his best friend had retreated into his mind palace, when he suddenly spoke up again, "We have not met our Waterloo, John, but this is our Marengo, for it begins in defeat and ends in victory."

The former army doctor just stared at him. "Mate, what are you talking about?"

In a swift motion the consulting detective got up, grabbed his coat and scarf and mumbled while he rushed past his friend, "I must return. Two glasses."

John could only stare after him in disbelieve as he was once again left behind by Sherlock Holmes.