A Home to Return To
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 of the sadness I had seen come over him while I was "gone". I decided to tell him that I was here, though I was so worried that he'd hate me for what I'd written in the letter. I had to face him; I couldn't hide from what I've done forever, no matter how much I would've like to.
I then, when Watson turned around to look at his book shelf, tore off my disguise. Time for the moment of truth… Watson stood and stared at me for a few seconds, his beautiful 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. I was worried, would he be okay? I needed him to wake up; I downed some of the brandy and bent down. Then I kissed Watson gently, my lips brushed against his and 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, for once something felt undoubtedly right. It woke him up, but not before I raised my self slightly, though I was still leaning over him, my eyes filled with fear at what his reaction could be.
"Holmes did you just…" he trailed off, slowly raised himself into a sitting position against the chair and traced his lips with his finger.
"I-I'm sorry." I stammered, hurriedly standing "P-please forget it, don't let my foolishness ruin our friendship, forget it like the letter." My words were hurried, falling all over each other; I didn't want to say what I was saying, I wanted to scream, I wanted to shout, I wanted to cry and laugh with joy and sorrow, I wanted to claim him, ask him if he would take me, but I did none of those. I instead turned away from Watson since I could not bear to look him in the eyes and continued "I'm sorry, my friend, I hope you don't hate me for what I did." I then walked slowly towards the door, wishing for the shout for me to wait that I believed would never come. Just as I reached out my hand and touched the doorknob I felt a gentle and tentative but strong hand on my shoulder. I spun around quickly, surprised by him holding me back, he then wrapped his arms tightly around my waist, pressing his body against mine.
We stood there for several precious minutes, my eyes widened in surprise at Watson's gesture as he leaned fully into me. He then looked up at me from the embrace, staring into my eyes with his blue ones. He spoke in a quiet and comforting voice "Sherlock, I love you; I've loved you ever since we met. I wouldn't be able to bare it if you left again."
I was stunned, not only did he not hate me for what I felt, but he felt the same way, it was more than I had ever dreamed. "John, did I hear you correctly? Did you just…" I asked, giving him a chance to turn around, to not be isolated and in constant fear, though it hurt me greatly to say it.
He understood "I love you Sherlock." He replied simply and honestly, tightening his arms around my waist.
I let out a breath of relief and looked at him, putting all of his trust in me, putting his life on the line, for us… I sighed, maybe I didn't have to be alone all the time, maybe I could be selfish for once, and put my happiness first. With that thought in mind I embraced him pressing his warm body against my undoubtedly cold one. I felt his heart beat against mine, in time with mine, each breath of his soothing my nervousness. I was happy, truly happy, for well, once… all the fear went away though now it was even more dangerous, for both of us, but I knew we would be okay. I smiled, wider than I ever before.