Hello beautiful people! I really, really want to thank everyone who is reading this story. 40 followers and 17 favouriters, it's so much more than I could have ever imagined, so thank you for that!

The story turned a bit angsty from here, sorry about that. But well, we'll just see what happens... Stay fantastic people :)

Chapter 16

Sherlock came out from the bathroom in his blue dressing gown and his hair still dripping wet. He smiled at John, but it faded quickly as he saw John's expression.

"John? John what's the matter?"

John didn't trust his voice to bear so instead he just held out the phone to Sherlock, showing the words that had destroyed him so completely. Sherlock's eyes widened in shock, and then even more when understanding dawned upon him. He looked even more like a puppy, with those eyes and his hair still wet. "No John, no no no. This is not at all what you think!" He sounded panicky.

"Then please explain to me what this is Sherlock. And tell me the truth." John said in a low voice, still not looking at Sherlock. He fought hard to keep the tears out of his voice, but he barely managed. Sherlock hesitated, seemed to look for the right words to say. Eventually he said "It was for a case. I needed some valuable information which he provided."

"In exchange for what?" John demanded.

Sherlock bit his lip, clearly uncomfortable with all these emotions. "Remember I told you I can be very convincing? That you can get anyone almost anywhere, if you only know what to offer? Well, I knew what to offer." Sherlock spoke with cautiousness, as if he waited for John to break if he said the wrong word. But John was already broken. He was not as stupid as Sherlock seemed to think. He understood that it had been more than just an offer. If the guy had valuable information, he wouldn't trade it just for a promise about more. He would have wanted proof in some way. And it was just that, the proof. What had Sherlock done to get whatever information he required? John's whole inside was burning with the need to know, but when he opened his mouth it wasn't the question that came out. Instead he said "When was this?"

"About two weeks ago"

John did a quick count in his head. He and Sherlock had been together for almost three weeks. That meant… Suddenly the tears weren't a problem anymore. The hurt feelings gave way for a stronger feeling, anger. It was an anger he never felt before, and he let it sink in before he spoke. "You did this, while you were with me? While we were together?" His voice was shaky, but it was now because of the effort to stop himself from screaming. "You cheated on me for information?"

"I wasn't cheating, I was just…working."

John let out a humorless laugh. "Oh so you were working? I see. So you can just go around and sleep with whoever you want as long as it's for your bloody work?" His voice was rising.

"What? No John, I didn't…I would never…" Sherlock sounded pleading now. But still no denial. "I didn't think he would actually want to see me again, that's not why I gave him my number."

"Oh what a bloody surprise! He wanted to meet up for a booty-call! You couldn't deduce that you brilliant bastard?" Even when angry, John apparently couldn't keep out the compliments, and he hated it.

"John, please listen…"

"No you are going to listen to me Sherlock! I gave you all I had; I gave you what no one else has gotten before. I gave you my heart Sherlock, and you managed to break it just like you break everything else. Just like you said you would, and damn it, I should have known better than this!" He knew he had gone too far, but he couldn't stop. The words just flowed out of him, like a waterfall. He stood up, facing Sherlock and panting as though he'd just run a mile. His heart was racing, and his vision was blurry. He realized he was crying, but he didn't even bother to care. Sherlock just stared at him, completely speechless after the words that John had said. He didn't even try to stop John as he pushed past Sherlock, grabbed his coat and slammed the door shut. Sherlock just stood there, the water dripping from his hair on the floor mixing with the silent tears that ran down his cheeks.

John managed to run two blocks away until he broke down. Heavy rain soaked him wet as he sat on the curb. He tried to feel nothing, but in vain. He felt as though he had left his heart behind him, which he, figuratively speaking, had done. He didn't know how long he sat there, but eventually he rose to his feet. He felt lost, in more ways than one. He picked up his phone and texted the only one he could think of.

"Things are a complete mess. Can I sleep at your place tonight?

I'd owe you big time. JW"

Lestrade answered within ten seconds, and John made his way to the eastern side of London.