December 26th. New Scotland Yard, London. 09:00.
"You're free to go." Was the first words out of the guard's mouth that morning. The Holmes family blinked at him collectively, confusion written on each of their faces. It had been a long, quiet night, and Sherlock felt like he was going to explode from all the unspoken tension.
The guard sighed as he opened up the barred door, standing aside to let Sherlock's family out. "The poor sap didn't press charges. I would have, had I been him."
"Thank you, but we didn't ask for your opinion." Mycroft bit back, shooting the officer a cold glare. The guard rolled his eyes as the Holmes' filed out slowly, making their way to the entrance of New Scotland Yard.
As soon as they hit sunlight, they scatter, making their way towards their own homes. Sherlock is left on the sidewalk, feeling unbearably lonely. It's ridiculous, as he's no more alone than he was three days before, but the sudden realisation of it all hit him like a truck.
With a heavy heart, Sherlock made his way away from the door, sitting down on a bench with a heavy thud.
"I heard you were being released early." A familiar voice said from behind him, and Sherlock whipped around to stare. John.
"What are you doing here?" Sherlock asked, feeling thunderstruck. John was supposed to vanish, to never appear again, yet there he was, wearing the jumper that Mummy bought for him.
"I wanted to see you, to make sure you and your family are alright." John said, sitting down next to him. Sherlock gave John a small smile, his stomach doing all sorts of gymnastics. Perhaps it wasn't too late to tell John how he was feeling.
"Oh, they're incredibly upset with me. Wouldn't say one word the whole night." Sherlock said. "But we're fine, otherwise. How about you?"
Perhaps John could learn to love me too.
"Oh, you know. I'm doing alright." John grinned at Sherlock, which caused another flutter in the pits of his stomach. "Barely got any sleep."
"This is yours." Sherlock said quickly, pulling out the ring that John had fake-proposed to him with. God, he couldn't believe it was only a day ago. "Now you can give it to your fiancée…Meredith, was it?"
John rolled his eyes, a small smile still on his lips. "Her name is-"
"John!" A warm voice called, causing both men to realise just how close they had been sitting. Sherlock looked up to see a pretty blonde woman in a red coat walking towards them. "John, we have so much to do, what are you doing sitting out here?"
She looked from John to Sherlock, confusion flitting across her face, followed by understanding, then anger.
"Is this him?" She asked John, pointing at Sherlock, a frown on her face. Without getting an answer, she turned to Sherlock, glaring fiercely. "Listen, buddy, I don't know who you think you are, but you're a horrible person."
"Mary." John chastised, but she wasn't paying attention to John.
"John Watson is a kind, forgiving man, and he's the only reason that you're aren't going to spend five more years in prison." She continued fiercely. "If it were up to me, you would be in there for a long time."
"John is a good man." Sherlock agreed softly. "I apologise for all the hurt I have caused the both of you."
"Sherlock…" John's voice was so soft, so tender, that for a moment, Sherlock could imagine, could believe…
But it was never meant to be.
"We have to be going now." Mary said, tugging on John's jumper. He stood, letting her loop an arm around his. "Wedding shopping to do, and all that.
"Right…goodbye." Sherlock looked up, looking at John one last time before he was gone. John looked back at him, waved once, and then he was gone, trotting after his fiancée like a puppy.
Alone is what I have, alone protects me.
February 14th. Higbies Coffee Shop, London. 13:45.
"I loathe valentine's day." Sherlock huffed, glowering at the paper hearts strung along the walls in Higbies.
"It's fun." Molly replied, setting a mug of coffee in front of Sherlock. It was a hideous shade of red, and Sherlock glared at that, too.
"Ha." He said, grabbing the newspaper and beginning to flip through it. "It's a fool's holiday, contrived to convince people to purchase more candy. It has no import to the daily lives of-"
Sherlock stopped mid-rant, his eyes widening in shock. He had no intention on stopping at the wedding announcement page, but the picture at the top right caught his eye.
It was a nice picture of John. While he wasn't smiling, he stood there looking pleased, a beaming Mary on his side.
Dr John Watson and Miss Mary Morstan are pleased to announce their engagement, and are to be married the 14th of February of this year.
There was a soft gasp behind him, and Sherlock turned to see Molly standing there, looking devastated.
"Oh, Sherlock. I am so sorry."
"It's fine." Sherlock lied, closing the paper. Upon second glance, he realised it was over a month old. "I'll be fine. John is with Mary now, no changing that."
"You could go to the wedding!" Molly wrung her hands. "You could-"
"Do what, Molly?" Sherlock asked, feeling broken. "Tell him that I'm in love with him? I kidnapped him, for god's sake. He was polite and everything, but I can't do that."
"But Sherlock..."
"I can't." Sherlock sighed, taking a sip of his coffee. "Will you be at my honours ceremony tonight?"
"I wouldn't miss it for the world." Molly said, her smile a little wobbly. "I mean, it's not every day your best friend solves a murder."
"If I have my way, it will be." Sherlock said, standing up and enveloping Molly with a tight hug. "I have to be going."
"But you didn't even finish your coffee," she protested, but Sherlock waved her off, leaving quickly through the front door. He needed to put as much distance between himself and that paper as possible.
February 14th. New Scotland Yard, London. 20:00.
About a month after the incident, Lestrade let Sherlock onto a crime scene; mostly because Sherlock wouldn't stop pestering him, but it didn't hurt that he found Sherlock's elder brother cute, either. Sherlock had solved it in under fifteen minutes, leaving the police officers plenty of time to evacuate when he deduced that the murderer had also planted a bomb under the crime scene to get rid of any evidence. Sherlock was a hero, and New Scotland Yard held a press conference to honour him.
Sherlock's hand was shaken multiple times and he was quite sure that the limb would fall off in the next few hours or so.
He was presented with a sturdy medal that would immediately get shoved into a drawer somewhere.
All in all, it was a tedious affair that Sherlock couldn't wait to be over. He figured that his family wouldn't be bothered to attend, so when he saw his parents and Mycroft coming towards him, he was shocked.
"Sherlock, I am so proud of you!" Mummy cried, flinging her arms around Sherlock's neck and pulling him into a tight hug. "Oh, my baby boy is a hero."
"It was nothing." Sherlock spluttered as Father hugged him as well.
"It most certainly wasn't nothing." Father said. "What you did was incredible, and I am so sorry for not encouraging you to do this sooner."
"You mean-"
"Sherlock, I am proud of you." Father said, and Sherlock felt quite warm. "No more trying to find you a different job. Not from me."
"Thank you." Sherlock said after a moment. Suddenly, the entire press conference seemed a whole lot less tedious.
"Now, when are you going to find yourself a nice boyfriend?" Mummy asked.
"Mummy." Sherlock groaned. "Why would you bring that up?"
"It's just...you looked so happy with Vic- ah, I mean, with John. Are you two still talking?"
"No, we aren't." Sherlock looked away, trying to ignore the tightening in his chest. "He...ah, he got married today."
His mother and father looked absolutely crestfallen, and Mycroft had a smug look on his face that Sherlock knew the reason for.
"Yes, yes. Love is a disadvantage and all that." He snapped at his brother, who merely raised an eyebrow.
"Not at all, brother mine." Mycroft replied smoothly. "It can be very advantageous, at times."
"Yes, well, other times it's not." Sherlock sniffed. "Now, this has been marvellously fun, but I've got cases to solve."
"My little boy, a detective." Mummy said, wiping at her eyes.
"A consulting detective." Sherlock replied as he began to walk away. "The only one in the world."
He weaved his way through the crowds, surfacing unscathed on the other side.
As he began walking away from the crowd, a piece of cloth was flung over his eyes, completely blinding him. He let out a startled yelp, which was cut off as a hand covered his mouth, pulling him into what Sherlock assumed was an alley. He struggled against his captor, reaching out to push against their solid body. He deduced that kidnapper was approximately six inches shorter than him, though a good deal stronger.
His wrists were bound in handcuffs almost instantly, and Sherlock grabbed at them, surprised by their texture. They were unbelievably soft and fluffy.
"This isn't one of my brother's agents, is it?" It wasn't a question, not really, but he felt so foolish for hoping.
"God, no." Replied the painfully familiar of John. "You would have expected a kidnapping from them."
"This is a kidnapping?" Sherlock asked, unsure if he wanted to laugh or cry. "Why are you kidnapping me when you should be going on your sex holiday?"
"Sex holiday?" John asked, his voice sounding blank.
"Honeymoon?"
"Oh! Yeah, no, I called off the wedding a few weeks ago."
They came to a halt, and Sherlock struggled to get the makeshift blindfold off. He needed to see John, needed to get a read on him. Gentle hands lifted the cloth off his face, and suddenly John was in front of him, smiling warmly.
"Why?" Sherlock asked, feeling lost.
"Why what?"
"Why did you call off your wedding?"
John was silent for a moment, and Sherlock felt as though he were going to explode. Perhaps it was just a short term thing, and he and Mary would get back together soon. Perhaps it was Mary who cut it off, leaving John hurting, or maybe-
"I didn't think it was fair to marry her when I was in love with someone else."
Everything seemed to slow around them, and Sherlock couldn't look away if he wanted to. John's smile was too tender, too warm, too everything.
"In love with someone else?" Sherlock repeated.
"And here I thought you were a genius." John teased, though a flicker of worry crossed over his face. "I fell in love with you."
Oh.
"Me." Sherlock repeated once again, feeling rather idiotic. "I kidnapped you."
"Yes, and you stole my heart along with it."
Sherlock couldn't stop himself from lunging forward to press a kiss to John's lips. Overall, it was rather awkward, and quite unpractised, but the bright smile on John's face when he pulled back let him know that he did it correctly.
"I love you too, John." Sherlock said, leaning his forehead against John's, sharing his air. "I missed you these past couple of months."
"But you've been busy." John replied. "Solving murders, saving lives. God, but it's impressive. I just lost my job at the A&E."
"You know, I'm in need of an assistant. A doctor, preferably one that has battle experience." Sherlock said, watching John carefully. "He has to have nerves of steel, patience, and he needs to love danger. Do you think that would be right up your alley?"
"Are you offering me a job?" John asked, clearly amused. "I didn't think you could date someone you worked with."
"I'm self-employed," Sherlock shrugged. "I make my own rules. So, do you want the job or not?"
"Oh god, yes."
A/N: All that's left now is the epilogue.