I look at your curled up naked body, even in sleep you are beautiful John Watson. I walk slowly towards you as if each step is my last. Your blonde tussled hair lays like an angel's wings across your brow. Tears fill my eyes. Looking at you is too much. I kiss the side of your neck. You stir but don't wake. I lay a note beside your pillow. I sling my duffle bag over my shoulder. "Though it sounds corny, I will always love you, John," I whisper aloud.

My steps sound heavy on the wooden stairs. I open the door and make my way across the street. My shoulders are bent like an old man. Everything aches in my body. I keep to the shadows and watch for her. Mary hurries to the door of 221b Baker Street. Mrs. Hudson opens the door for her. I smile, enter Mary exit Sherlock.

A few hours later I am on a jet headed to Eastern Europe, a one way mission, though Moriarty is dead his spirit still lives. Alone protects me. Alone I will defeat the plans Moriarty's network has planned for London. London will be safe. John will be safe. John and Mary will be safe. Once the plane is airborne I walk over to the bar and pour myself a drink, then another, then another until I pass out.

Prague is a wonderful city; its dark spires fit my mood perfectly. I pull my scarf tighter around my neck, smiling as I think of you. "Drama Queen, that's what you would call me," I think as I torture myself with memories of you.

I don't meet my contact until the next day, so I spend the rest of the afternoon and evening getting drunk. A knock on the door rouses me. I look around me in confusion. The room reeks of cigarette smoke, alcohol, sweat and desperation. How long have I been lying here? I look at the date on my watch. It's a day and a half later. I've missed my meeting. I laugh and then light up another cigarette. The knocking at the door continues. I ignore it. After a few moments it stops and I immerse myself in the covert operation of avoiding my tumultuous inner thoughts. When the door flies open my body jerks in surprise. The cigarette falls from my cold fingers; its ember burns a hole in the rug. "It's a good thing that I used Mycroft's credit card," I think as I smirk at it.

"Sherlock," a voice bites into my self-loathing with an angry snap.

I look up and there is Mary. Her eyes are dark and full of anger. She shakes my letter to John in front of me. "Sherlock, just how much do you think we can take?" She asks in a menacing tone.

My words are slurred. "We?" My heart leaps in my chest. There you are-John. Your face is pale, your eyes puffy. "Jesus, you are beautiful, John," I think as I smile at you.

The anger in your eyes fades; once again I am vindicated by just the slight upturn of your lips. I must cut you off. "What are you doing here? Wasn't my note clear enough for you and why would you show it to Mary? Leave me," I say as I shrink back to the corner of the bed. "How did you find me anyway? I'm on a mission."

"A mission that was not meant for you little brother," Mycroft says as he steps into the room. "Did you honestly think you could make a move without me?"

I turn my back on him and on you too-John. "Leave me alone, let me complete my mission, let me die."

Mycroft sighs. "I'll leave him to you." Then without another word he leaves the room.

Mary reaches me first. "Sherlock, come home we love you."

She takes my hands in her own. "Mary, you must hate me after what I've done."

Mary's blue eyes bore into mine. "Sherlock, I know you've been in love with John ever since the first night I met you and John has been in love with you long before he met me. The fact that you slept together has been a long time coming."

I look at Mary in confusion. "I don't understand," I say.

Mary pulls my head down and then to my surprise she places her lips on mine. Out of curiosity my lips part. When Mary's tongue touches mine I freeze, then her technique makes me respond. Her tongue is strong. Her breath is sweet. When she pulls away I feel cold. "Sherlock, John and I both love you. We both need you." Then she hesitates. "We both want you."

My skin instantly becomes warm as you dearest John wrap one arm and then another around my waist. You take my hand and lead me to the bed. I lay back and let you both explore me. Like the goddess Shiva, multiple hands and fingers stroke me. I am afraid and aroused at the same time. "I love you, Sherlock and so does Mary. Will you let us love you?" You whisper.

I look into your eyes dearest John and though I'm afraid I can refuse you nothing. "Yes," I whisper. I will my body to relax as I let you and Mary strip away my clothing. I start to shake. I am full of performance anxiety. It is an alien emotion, for I have always excelled at everything.

Gently, you and Mary roll me up in the sheet. You both make me feel safe as your bodies shake and bond together. Though the force of your love making batters against me I am safe in the material cocoon you have both wrapped me in. When the writhing and movement stops you both cuddle against me. I fall asleep with both of your moist arms and legs wrapped around me. And for once in my life I don't dream of evil. I don't dream at all. I just sleep. The darkness of my nocturnal wanderings is vanquished by the two loves of my life you and Mary.