To Have a Heart, That You Have Stolen: Holmes POV
I was sitting somewhere I never thought I'd see again; Watson's study, I was in disguise as an old man, but, still, I was there, again. I had decided to return because I was about to wrap this case up, and I didn't want Watson to have to suffer any more sadness. I decided to tell him that I was here, though I was so worried that he'd hate me for what I'd said. I couldn't let him suffer any more and I had to face him, I couldn't hide from what I've done forever.
I then, when Watson turned around to look at his book shelf, I tore off my disguise. Watson stood and stared at me for a few seconds, his blue eyes filled with surprise, then he fainted. I loosened his collar and rushed to get some brandy. I poured the brandy down his throat, but to no avail. Then, a sudden inspiration came over me, I bent down and kissed Watson gently, it felt amazing, this thrill went through my veins, and an even stronger feeling came over me, it was unlike anything that had ever happened to me before. It woke him up, but not before I raised my self slightly, though I was still leaning over him.
He awoke slowly "Holmes… did you just…" Watson traced his lips with his finger, surprised. Then, he punched me straight in the face, and sat up hurriedly. It hurt both physically and emotionally; he hated me, I shouldn't have told him. My eyes began to waver and wet for the first time in I don't remember how long, all I know is that it had been forever, but it was interrupted by a shout from Watson,
"You're a cold unfeeling beast!" he screamed as he stood, I followed, "If you felt, how could you abandon me for those 3 years, no matter what your amazing plan!" He continued shouting with pent up anger, sadness and frustration, all bundled into one. My eyes burned away the tears and turned steely.
"If you want to then leave!" I sneered harshly
"I would I if I had a place to go! It's enough that you 'died' but to have Mary go to, and it all being my fault, and she died for nothing, just a heartless beast!" Watson was still shouting, fortunately, the rest of the house was asleep.
"Now you're worried about Mary, leave to be with her again for all I care!" I was harsh and cold, aided by hurt, I taunted him.
"And I thought you loved me! You have no heart, how could I think a machine had a heart! You just play your games with emotion, your great mind doesn't feel it; so why would anyone else!" Watson yelled with an ironic tone of voice, matching my own, as he leaned into my face, his face hot with anger.
"I understand more than you'll ever know. And being a machine is a great asset." My voice stayed even, cold and calculating. Watson looked like he was about to do something, I expected him to hit me again, or even worse, leave.
"If you're a machine, then how does this make you feel!" He yelled at my face, then, to my surprise, kissed me powerfully on the lips. I was startled, my eyes forgot to look angry, and instead they were a grey surprise. I then leaned into it, letting out all my suppressed emotion out through the kiss, then, we wrapped our arms around the other's waist. I cautiously and gently moved my tongue from my mouth to against Watson's lips, and I timidly opened them. Watson's blue eyes changed from passionate to surprised as they stared into mine, he obviously had no idea I could be so careful and gentle, and honestly, nor did I before then. My tongue caressed the inside of his mouth until it retreated back into my own. After a bit longer we broke apart for need of air, I instantly collapsed into the chair that Watson had been sitting in previously, with my head in my hands, full of shock.
He was surprised, but Watson continued from before "I've never seen a machine blush quite that shade of red." He had been right, my face felt hot, and was most likely more red than it's ever been, or will be.
My voice steadied, as I looked up from my hands into Watson's stunning, blue eyes "I'm sorry, John, we shouldn't have, I shouldn't have; you deserve a calm, nice life. That's why I left, so you could live happily with Mary, not having to worry about me. I just put you in so much danger, I could never forgive myself if anything happened to you." My face returned to being hidden behind my hands.
"But, Sherlock," Watson was obviously surprised by the switch from family, to given names, but he didn't falter "I want you not her." He gently lifted my chin from behind my hands and stared into my eyes with that look that always melted my cold heart.
"Why did you marry her then?" I asked curiously, critically, and honestly, all at the same time, as he sat into the chair that I had been sitting in originally, that he pulled over to being next to me.
"I thought I could never have you, with your disdain for love. I decided not to dwell on it and instead married her. She died because I was so restless with you dead; I thought it was my fault."
"It was never your fault, it was my decision."
"I understand how it hurt you now, though; I will never leave you again." Watson gently kissed my lips; it was short and sweet, sealing a promise, I knew he meant it.
"I will never leave you again either." I mumbled with the red line across my cheeks deepening with every moment.
"So, Sherlock, how did you survive, the fall…" Watson continued, still using my given name, we then went on to have the conversation chronicled in "Holmes Returns" and freed me from the trouble of Moraiaty's final subordinates.