Chapter 26

Quickly tiding up the dishes from the tea and straightening the flat, John stifled a yawn, glancing around the flat making sure nothing was hazardous, like loose papers or chemistry journals littering the floor (wouldn't want a repeat of that one night again), to his flatmate who sprawled ungracefully on the settee conked out. Apparently, tonight's activities were more strenuous than anticipated by either men, he wouldn't want anything to hurt Sherlock or his pride, that would only make his spirits sink even further than it already was. Tonight was mostly cheery, granted a few moments were strained, but it didn't last long-thankfully!

Molly was the life-saver during those moments. "I don't care what anyone says, but I know for a fact Sherlock has a soft spot for the good-hearted doctor," John commented under his breath as he cleared the floor of Sherlock's case files, "Their conversation, under the pretence of making tea, was the solid proof of it. Everyone knows tea does not take that long to prepare, even if the water was a frozen block and had to be melted. It's so obvious. No matter how hard he denies having any sentimental attachments to anything or anyone, Molly is THE exception, probably the only one ever. It takes such kind-hearted and determined lady to handle this grown-child. I only hope whatever happened between them helped convince Sherlock about the type of friends he has. We're certainly not fair-weather friends."

After taking a final glance around the flat and making sure his flatmate was safe, John trudged up the steps to have a nice long hot shower.

Flopping down on his bed for the night mobile in hand, John dialled to his fiancée. It couldn't wait any longer, this conversation needed to happen. The question need to be asked, and a decision needed to be set in stone.

Where would they live?

"Hello Doctor," Mary spoke after answering the first ring, "thank you for dinner at your flat with company. I enjoyed it quite well. Now I know you wouldn't be calling just to chat, you have something important in mind. Out with it."

His Mary was far too sharp for any small talk. He had met the perfect lady to be his wife. How he loved her so much.

"Yes my Mary," John responded with a smile in his voice, "you're quick in deducing. Might make Sherlock jealous."

Mary laughed. Her laughter just made John smile silly like a love struck teen.

"If you insist it Doctor, Mary continued, "you mean to discuss tonight's conversations, most particularly of what happens to us after we are married. I may not be up to the level in deductions like you and Sherlock are, but it was fairly obvious he wasn't feeling too comfortable at dinner."

John's stomach felt uneasy discussion the issue, it wasn't that he didn't want to live with his wife, but he had this concern to his friend.

"Yes my Mary, you're becoming just like Sherlock. Quick with deductionS, I am hardly so. I did notice his behaviour. He doesn't usually like to eat much anyway. What do you think of it? Where should we live?" John ventured.

"Dear Doctor," Mary began softly and sweetly.

Her voice just made John turn into a pile of mush. How glad he was Sherlock was not anywhere near his room. If Sherlock heard or saw any of this, John would never hear the end of it and run the risk of Mary finding out. He shuddered. Something are better kept hidden. It was for the benefit of everyone.

She continued, "Nothing needs to be discussed Doctor. I know what must be done and I have no resentments at all. He is not your friend alone. Remember? When he and I first met, I told you I liked him. I really do. He is a good man and your best friend. Besides, I know Mrs. Hudson would be more than thrilled not to lose one of her tenants."

How on earth did he find a lady like this? She was perfect from the start and still is perfect. He was a mess, yet managed to have the most darling lady want to spend the rest of her life with him.

John returned,"As you wish my Mary. We will move in to flat above Sherlock's right after our honeymoon. Mrs. Hudson has secretly been preparing it for us, though she doesn't know that I sneak up there occasionally and look around."

So it was settled then, and all too easy it was, but it was really just like that. Mary would live in her husband's building just so the two of them would be near their friend/best friend. The rest of the conversation turned into ideas of what the couple planned for their new place, how the layout would be designed, what furniture would they need that the flat didn't already furnish. It was conversation both of them enjoyed very much; however, in the back of their mind the reason for such a place to live haunted them like a bad aftertaste. Nothing could rid the constant reminder of what was to come, and the increasing number of challenges everyone would face.

Sherlock was left alone slowly coming into consciousness shortly after John went upstairs. He looked around and decided there was nothing requiring his attention so he stayed on the settee replaying the events earlier that evening.

At last! I'm alone again. Alone is what protects me!

Everything that happened tonight was too much! I anticipated none of this, why so? I can usually guess out how the ending of anything would turn out. Molly. She's shocked me the most. Of all the people that are in my life, I expected her reaction to my future as one full of relief. I would no longer be badgering her at the morgue or experimenting on the body parts I "borrowed" from there. I didn't know she cared that much, that she remembered our conversation ages ago: 'You've always counted to me Molly'. Of course you do, I just didn't know I counted as anything to you. I thought I was nothing more than a fantasy of yours. I thought I was nothing to you.

Tired of laying on the the settee, Sherlock's fingers followed the wooden grooves of the wall as he stumbled about noisily to his room. "I hoped John doesn't hear this," Sherlock berated himself for his clumsiness. Groping around trying organising his things off the bed, which was cluttered with papers, books, and experiments was not easy at all since his Nyctalopia took a sharp nose-dived within the last couple of weeks. He didn't even bother turning on the lights as it would have made very little difference to him, in dim lightning it was as good as if his blindness was fully manifested. How he loathed every moment of this dreaded condition.

John didn't notice the Nyctalopia. Good. It would stay that way. He must not know until absolutely necessary.

His body desperately needed to rest, so he just shoved everything to one side and curled up in a ball hugging the pillow. Not sleep. Never sleep. Only rest. Sleep meant eyes closed and the brain was running on minimum power. "That simply couldn't be done, especially not at a time like this!" the man reasoned with himself whilst massaging in the oils molly applied on his burns earlier.

Rest implied, according to Sherlock, keeping the mind fully functioning and eyes opened, but not attentive to any particular object. Merely just a blank stare. "Suppose I could practise that aimless stare feeling, as I'll be doing it quite soon all the time," Sherlock mumbled to himself adding in a dry sarcastic laugh, "Not that it would matter anyway, since I wouldn't be able to know how I would look like. That's such scary thought though!" He scoffed at the thought then a surge of terror seized his thoughts.

What if I open my eyes in the morning and the sunlight doesn't burn my eyes anymore? What if I closed my eyes and the last thing I saw was a dark room, a dark room to be my last remembrance of what I would no longer have? That is a terrifying thought. I would have missed my last chance to see the light. That simply won't happen. I will make sure of it. I want the last thing I see to be most memorable. What is THE most memorable thing or person to me? I don't know.

A-N: Thank you again for reading another chapter of this story. Any comments you leave would be lovely!

I hope you liked the Watsons, as far as I think, John may have been a soldier and a doctor, and Mary as a dangerous spy, they're both capable of loving each other and displaying those feelings. Just a reminder: Sherlock and Molly will not become a couple, at least not in this story. They're just confidantes of one another.