A week went by and Mycroft was still in a coma. His wounds and bruises started to heal but he didn't wake up. Mr and Mrs Holmes were with him night and day but Sherlock did not visit again. He spent most of his time at home in Baker Street and composed a tune in D Minor. To John's ears it sounded like a funeral tune, and that made his heart feel heavy. They hadn't said a word about those two kisses. And neither of them showed any trace of wanting to. But both of them could feel the tension between them. They both avoided each other as much as possible. Even Mrs Hudson felt that something was up because she looked at them differently.
One afternoon John was sitting in his chair and listening to Sherlock playing the same tune over and over again. Making small changes from time to time. They hadn't had a real conversation in a week. That in itself wasn't something new because Sherlock had his periods of silence. But this silence was new, the way Sherlock looked at him was new and the way that John looked at Sherlock was new, and all of these things frightened John. Why do I keep thinking of those kisses? Why do I keep looking at him like this? I need to stop. I need to move on. It was just confusion on his side. But what about what Mr Holmes said to me? What did he mean? I am too afraid to ask, afraid to know the real reason. Because what if I get my hopes up and then it's nothing. Hopes up? What am I thinking? Look at him, he's not thinking of it. He's perfectly fine. Like he always has been. But why am I feeling weird. Why do I want him to look at me like he did that night. Touch me like he did that night. Kiss me like he did that night. But look at him, those cheekbones and those curls. And those eyes, it's like I'm drowning in his eyes now. Oh, get a grip John Watson!
His phone buzzed, he'd got a text. It was from Lestrade asking him if they wanted to join him for a beer later. Thank god, something normal, something relaxing, to get him out from the apartment so hez could breathe.
- Greg asked if we want to join him later.
Sherlock stopped playing but didn't turn around to face him.
- Who?
- Honestly, how can you not remember his name?
- Scotland Yard?
- Yes.
- Oh. Join him for what? A case?
- No. Not this time. Join him for a beer.
Sherlock turned around and wrinkled his nose.
- Not my thing. You go.
Sherlock turned around again and put the violin under his chin again. He placed the bow on the strings and started to play. John looked at him. It's probably better that I go alone. Us drunk together would probably end badly. Then he left the room and went up to his own to change clothes.
Greg Lestrade and John met at the local pub and after a couple of beers talking about old cases and memories Greg looked at John.
- Are you alright?
John looked up from his beer and became aware that he'd been staring down at the foam for quite a while.
- Oh, yes. Yes I'm fine.
- Are you sure about that?
- Yes, definitely.
Greg looked at him and frowned.
- Well. I know that face, I've seen it before. You're not fine. What's going on?
- It's just... Mycroft. I'm so worried about what will happen. And I'm worried about Sherlock.
- Really?
- Yes. That's it, nothing else. John said and licked his lips.
Greg frowned again.
- No. I think you're lying, there's something else going on. Something has happened with you and Sherlock.
- Why do you say that?
John started to get nervous and licked his lips again.
- You usually don't shut up about him, his deductions and the cases. And tonight you haven't even mentioned why he didn't come along with you. Something is up.
John sighed and looked down again. Was it so obvious?
- Yes... Something happened.
- Did I do my first real deduction then, Greg smiled.
- You've been hanging out with Sherlock, something must've stuck, John smiled back.
- So, do you want to talk about it?
- No. I don't think so...
- You might feel better afterwards.
John sighed again. He's probably right. Keeping this a secret, keeping it inside is killing me.
- If I tell you, you need to promise not to judge and not to laugh.
- Why would I laugh? And who am I to judge?
- I don't know and... I don't know!
- See... just tell me.
John couldn't look Greg in the eye as he took a deep breath and said quietly.
- He kissed me...
Greg looked at John and was silent for a moment.
- Oh... he said, Oh! Well ok.
Silence for a second, Greg sat stroking his chin.
- And how do you feel about that? He continued.
- I don't know...
- You can be honest with me, Greg said. Cause honestly, I am not that surprised really.
- You're not?
- No. I've never seen someone care as much about another person as Sherlock cares about you. He would do anything for you. Anything to make you happy, even if that meant that he'd be unhappy for the rest of his life. He would sacrifice himself to keep you safe. He loves you John. Even a fool can see that.
- What...?
- It's true John.
- But is it love as in "I'm in love" or love as "you're my best friend"?
- I think it's more than a friendship kind of love, if I'm being really honest.
- But it's Sherlock! He doesn't feel anything, not like that...
- Well... he's human.
- I know but...
- You're just in denial. The way that he looks at you, I mean, it's obvious really.
- Is it...?
- Yes.
- But why haven't I seen it?
- Cause it's too close to you.
At this John didn't answer. He was trying to cope with all of this. The evidence is there, right in front of me. Why do I keep denying it? Greg looked at him with concern in his eyes.
- Are you alright?
- It's so much to take in...
- I know.
They sat there in silence for a while. Then Greg stood up, gave John a pat on the back and went to buy them more beer. When he returned he placed a whiskey in front of John. John looked at the whiskey and then up at Greg.
- You looked like you needed it, Greg said.
- Thank you, John said and took a deep gulp.
Greg looked at him again. John could see that he wanted to ask him something.
- What is it?
- I just realized, we've talked about how Sherlock probably feels about you, but you haven't said a word about how you are feeling about it all.
- There's no easy answer to that...
- Do you like him?
- Yes I do but...
- Did you like the kiss...
- Well... kisses...
- Oh, so there were more of them?
- Two, yes.
- Two. Ok. And did you like them?
- Well... I guess.
- You did like kissing him?
- Yes, John sighed it was hard saying it out loud, but at the same time it felt like a relief.
- Do you want to kiss him again?
Silence. John wanted to lie and say no but...
- Yes... John sighed. Yes I would like to kiss him again