Sherlock POV

Later that evening, when we finally returned to the flat after the case was closed, John began his usual ramble. I was always flattered by the things John would say, but this was more welcome than most praise. It had been my first case since the... John referred to it as the incident. My confidence had been shaken, though I would never admit it; I worried that the personalities would piece together in a way that would destroy my deductive abilities. I needn't have worried. If anything, the case seemed to have sailed to conclusion far quicker than it would have otherwise. Still, nothing built up my ego quite like hearing John's gushin. my heart rate sped up, my face flushed slightly and I couldn't help my grin at the flattery.

I could bathe in the warm glow of his feelings, bask in his flattery and covet all of his attention and still it wouldn't be enough any more. I no longer wanted to be selfish and cold, to take from him and never give back, I wanted to make him feel the same things that he made me feel. I wanted to be his friend, his brother, his everything. Just as he was mine. My old self would have cursed my other personalities for making me feel this way, the sociopath was already hating it – he had taken to leaving messages on the walls of my mind palace telling me to focus on work – but the rest of me fullheartedly loved John, though I would never truly admit to it. I didn't need to. John already knew.

"So how did you think of it?" I blinked, realising that I hadn't paid attention to what he'd said, I had been too caught up in my thoughts. Apparently, he noticed that I had zoned out. He didn't remonstrate my behaviour, however. He just rolled his eyes and reiterated his question, "How did you think of pretending to be a dragon of all things?" I chuckled and moved in closer, smiling down at him,
"Simple. Her hair showed small signs of tearing around the temples, along with flakes of silver paint, from a cheap plastic crown. She had a small trace of pink glitter, her trainers had a picture of one of those Disney Princesses, and she had a book filled with fairytales in her rucksack. It was rather easy realising that she wanted to be treated like a Princess. In fact, it was child's play… quite literally."

He grinned and breathed out, as his voice caught on his single world,
"Fantastic." I gave him a smile, allowing half of my mouth to twitch upward, and he returned the look. We stared at each other for a moment, and then he laughed and turned towards the kitchen, "Are you hungry yet?"

"Famished."

"Will takeaway do?" he asked, reaching out for the menus pinned to the wall. I caught his elbow before he could leave, however.

"John." He paused and looked back at me, surprised.

"Yes, Sherlock?" I cleared my throat, not sure how to proceed,

"I hope you realise... you mean a great deal to me."

"Really?" he asked, looking more surprised by my voicing my feelings than that I actually had feelings.

"Indeed, a great deal. I would be lost without you. It was only your friendship... your everything, in fact, that saved me these past few months. I know I can never truly reciprocate the human warmth you have shown me, but I hope that - if I spend the rest of my life trying - I might at least pay back even the smallest part of the debt I owe you, John. You mean more to me than I can say." He smiled once more, his entire face frightened as he looked up into my eyes,

"That's good to hear, Sherlock, but you don't owe me a damn thing. We're partners. There is nothing that I given you that you have not given back in full. I hope that we can spend the rest of our days together because I want to bloody well prove that to you."

The silence was heavy in 221b, the tension growing, and then it broke and we simply began to laugh. It started as a giggle, and then it grew and grew, until we were clutching at each for dear life. He embraced me and, for the first time, I wholeheartedly accepted. It was a long time before we finally pulled away, and I gestured for him to sit down.

"I think perhaps I might try cooking tonight. I believe Mrs Hudson did the shopping today." He shot me a dubious look,

"Is that wise, Sherlock?"

"You would be surprised." He grinned, shaking his head,

"Well, let's hope it's a pleasant surprise. Try not to burn down the house-"

"Yes, Mrs Hudson will have a mind to raise the rent." I pulled a book from the shelf, an untouched recipe book, and I was listened to the sound of John tapping on a keyboard behind me.

Blogging again. I wonder what he would say.

I would have to read it later.

The end.