Note: At last, the final chapter. Thanks for staying with me and reading, following, favoriting, reviewing. It meant a lot to me! Let me know what you think. Hope I didn't disappoint you.

16. A stroll on the beach

Desperate, he threw himself on Mycroft's case. He shoved the previous forty-eight hours into a box and locked it inside a cupboard, within a closet in an obscure area of his mind palace. He immersed himself in the reports of National Importance stamped 'Confidential' and puzzled through them. These were concrete, palpable facts, that he understood. Not the murky waters of emotions and feelings. He was vaguely aware that at different times of the day he heard something of the outside world. He heard the maid's surprise in finding him in the room without a 'do not disturb' sign warning her of his presence; someone else knocking on the door; John walking in and talking to him; someone else in the room talking to John. He did some research on his phone, called in a couple of favours, hacked into some sites. He didn't know how long he had been like that, but when he re-surfaced, he had solved Mycroft's case. He texted his brother. He had been right, it was an interesting case that offered him some relief and sanity. Mycroft must not have had time to look into this. Surely he would have seen the solution himself, much faster than I. But he'll never hear that from me (he already knows it, anyway).

Then... he was done. Where was John?

He texted.

Solved Mycroft's case. Not difficult. Sent the results already. Where are you? SH

He was relieved to hear the reply's buzz.

Downstairs, hotel pub, overlooking the pool. Care for some food? Congrats on the case. I knew you'd solve it. JW

He smiled. Good that some things never changed. John's support still meant a lot to him.

I'll be there soon. SH

He went to the bathroom, and seeing himself on the mirror, decided to clean up a bit. He took a quick shower, deciding to shave at the last minute. He always felt itchy when he didn't. Then he threw in a clean shirt, trousers, his regular shoes and went downstairs.

John had been waiting with a pint in front of him, staring at the distance, his cheek resting on his fist, when he heard Sherlock approach. Who else would be wearing leather soled shoes in a pub by the pool, he thought amused. His breath caught in his throat. Sherlock's hair was wet and springy, he was wearing a pale blue shirt, untucked and with rolled up sleeves again. His trousers and shoes were black. How does he manage to look so immaculate having pulled his clothes out of a suitcase?

Sherlock didn't know what to say. John had worry and distress etched all over his face. He tried for something neutral.

'You've had an eventful weekend.'

John chuckled, his frown softening momentarily. 'You can say that.' He looked embarrassed and averted his eyes. Then, seriously, he said 'You probably have already deduced all that has happened.'

'Not all, no. I fail to understand all this sentiment. I gave up and solved Mycroft's case instead.'

John chuckled again. 'Ah, Sherlock. Sometimes I envy you, you know that?'

'How so?'

'I wish I too could just step aside and store the emotions away. It would be such a relief sometimes.'

Not knowing what to say, he waited. John was still thinking, but decided to wait. 'Are you hungry?'

'Not particularly, no.'

'You haven't eaten the whole day. Here, look at the menu.'

Unwilling to put up a fight, Sherlock ordered Vichyssoise. At least it was cold, liquid-y and easier to swallow. John didn't feel hungry, but ordered some fish ad chips hoping to encourage Sherlock to eat. They both sat, overlooking the pool, in companionable silence. Sherlock noticed John was a bit sunburned, having gone to the beach with Max earlier without sun cream. His hair and eyebrows were slightly bleached.

After the meal, John suggested 'Care to walk on the beach with me?'

'You need some sun cream. You're a bit sunburned already.'

He chuckled. 'We seem to have changed roles. You're right. I'll go grab some. You might want to change your trousers and shoes too.'

'I didn't bring any other type of trousers, and I can go barefoot on the sand. I'll wait for you outside.'

When John returned, Sherlock was already standing on the sand, his trousers rolled up a bit, carrying his shoes in one hand, the other hand in his pocket. God, he looks attractive in anything! John handed Sherlock the sun cream. 'You too will need it, Mr. Pale Face. Or rather, Mr. Shrimp Face.' Sherlock smiled and complied, amused. Ever the doctor...

So they set off, strolling down the beach. Sherlock noted it must be quite late in the day, judging by the sun. After a stretch of silence, John finally spoke.

'You already know what happened between Max and I, don't you?' He spoke looking down at his feet, picking his way through the sand.

How to answer that? Carefully, he replied, 'I know that something happened between you and Max yesterday. I know he was upset because of you and Gwen last night. Are you and Max together now?'

'No. I made a mistake. I messed up. I might've lost a dear friend.'

So being with another man was a mistake... 'Why?'

'Why what, exactly?'

'All of it.'

John exhaled hard, arranging his thoughts.

'Max and I have been friends for many years. I've always known he's gay and I respected that. Over time, he developed feelings for me. We had never actually spoken about it, but we both knew how he felt towards me. Yesterday we came really close to kissing for the first time.'

Sherlock couldn't contain a small intake of breath sound. This felt awkward, he wasn't sure he wanted to know more about this. But John continued, oblivious to his discomfort, staring at the sea.

'I wasn't disgusted or repelled by it. But I wasn't into it either. Max is a friend and I'm not in love with him. We talked afterwards and I thought he had understood. Then, at the wedding party, I was too embarrassed and wanted to distance myself from him. The more I did this, the more he tried to show he was okay with it. I knew I was hurting him, but I couldn't help it. I was a total and complete bastard.' He looked away towards the sea again, lowering his voice. 'Then Gwen surprised me. She too, had a crush on me, apparently. Now that I'm not in the Army anymore, she felt she could act on it. God, you've seen her. I took her hand like a drowning man would a life saver. I was appropriately ashamed of myself this morning. I had intended to go and talk to Max, but he came to our hotel first, so it was useless to try to hide it from you.'

This conversation was beyond Sherlock's ability, he didn't know how to proceed. John was being very honest, so he followed his lead. 'How are things between you now?'

'Shaky at best. We had a long talk today. We came to the beach to talk, but as it started to get crowded, we continued our conversation in his hotel room. We just talked for hours. He'll still be in town tomorrow. I hope I can patch things up with him before we leave.' After a pause, he had a small outburst. 'God, what was I thinking? That was so stupid!'

Sherlock didn't know what to say. He was right. It was unwise to risk a friendship over unrequited love.

'And Gwen?'

'Christ, I had to talk to her too. Which I did when we woke up this morning. I'm not looking for a relationship right now, and thankfully, she wasn't either. She has broken up with her fiancee recently, but she's still pining for him. She's just a friend to me. Not as close as Max and Terry, so I told myself yesterday, to justify what happened.'

After a pause he added, 'To make matters worse, Jeanie and Terry are also angry with me. They think TC is a very appropriate nickname and that I'm a big bastard. In their minds, I egged Jeanie on, just to abandon her when a better offer came along. So in short, all my friends are upset with me right now and it sucks to be me.'

They continued walking in silence for a while.

'John, you and Max have known each other for a long time.' Sherlock said, abruptly.

'Yes, the whole time I was deployed.'

'Then, why now? What made him come to you?'

'Things... change.'

'How do you mean? What things?'

John sighed, 'I don't know how to explain this, but I feel like I have changed. I was trying to figure out the truth about myself, so I asked for his advice.'

They had reached the rocky part of the beach, but merely continued moving forward.

'What do you mean the truth about yourself? Wouldn't you already know it?'

'Until recently, I thought so. Now I'm not so sure of anything.'

'What has changed?'

You, John thought. But out loud he answered, 'Life. I'm not getting any younger. I've always tried to find a long-term relationship, someone to build a life with. This TC crap is just that, nonsense. I've never dated just for the sake of dating, or for sex. I mean, the one night stands happened when I was very young and hurting. After a while that got old. Sex is nice, but I want more than that. Yesterday with Gwen was just...' - he searched for an appropriate word – 'another mistake. My heart wasn't in it either. Lately it's been like that. I can't keep a relationship going because my heart is not in it once the initial spark wears off. So I talked to Max and he got the impression that I wanted... Only to rebuff him later. How stupid was that?'

Sherlock kept on climbing the rocky terrain, picking his way around boulders, listening to John behind him. He was relieved to confirm that nothing had happened. The silence stretched for a while.

'Talk to me Sherlock. What are you thinking? Are you disappointed with me?'

'No. Why should I?'

'For going on and on about not being gay, then almost snogging Max?'

Sherlock reflected about it. He had felt broken hearted when he thought they were together. But knowing now that nothing had happened didn't disappoint him in the least, so he shook his head. 'Not disappointed, no. Surprised.'

John seemed relieved. He continued, 'Some people dream of having a family, kids, career. All my life, all I ever wanted, even more so than being a doctor, was to find someone that I loved who loved me back.' So close, yet so far... 'I've never been alone for too long - aside from when I was in Afghanistan - but I feel that I've always been lonely. I've had two long term relationships in the past, before my deployment. Both times I thought we were going to get married, but both relationships fell apart over time.'

'Have you...' Sherlock suddenly recognised the rock he had just reached. It was the one from which he had observed Max and John. He stopped. John continued walking and passed him, so after a pause, he followed.

'Yes?' John prompted.

Sherlock hesitated, seeing John walking towards the same spot.

John too, recognised the next boulder. He felt regret for what had happened with Max yesterday. Unconsciously, he headed to it again. 'Sherlock, talk to me. What were you going to say?' Sherlock still seemed uncertain.

'Just say it. Hell, who am I to get angry at this point?' He stopped and turned, leaning against the same black smooth rock. It had felt good to feel the warm surface against his back yesterday. So he leaned back against it again.

'Have you considered the possibility that your recent relationships failed because they were women?' Sherlock said quickly.

'Of course I have. That's why I talked to Max.' John closed his eyes, to avoid looking into Sherlock's penetrating gaze. This was just too embarrassing. He raised his face to feel the sun's warmth.

'And?' Sherlock's heart drummed fast in his chest. John had stopped in exactly the same position as yesterday. The only difference being that his skin was darker today, and he was wearing shorts, longer than his blue bathers. He had taken his t-shirt off earlier in their walk, and now it hung from his waist again.

'I could be wrong. But I still think I'm not gay. I've never been interested in men.'

'Oh.'

But today, Sherlock was seeing what Max saw. A frontal view, open and frank. With him leaning back, chest and neck exposed, it looked like a silent invitation, an offer. Today, Sherlock was the one whose chest was heaving with passion and desire. He felt what Max must have felt upon this sight yesterday.

John opened his eyes. Surprised, he recognised that look. In a flash of comprehension, he let his fears and walls drop and melt away. He felt free to say what he really wanted to say. Bewildered, Sherlock watched the different emotions that flickered on that face, being a second behind as he recognised each one. Surprise, shock, confusion, recognition, understanding and...

John smiled. 'There is just you. I'm in love with you.'