Chapter Text
John takes Sherlock’s hand and his reaction is immediate. He’s completely and totally lost. The touch of John’s hand, the tight hold. John begins the same calming motion as a few days ago, swiping his thumb back and forth over Sherlock’s hand. But unlike a few days ago this isn’t a tenuous grasp as he’s falling asleep. This time it’s deliberate. Sherlock knows this action has words behind it, but he doesn’t know what they are. Still John is pulling him towards his body and he allows himself down. He edges ever closer to John. John’s eyes close, his breathing steadies. Asleep. Sherlock lets out a breath and watches him. God John.
The scotch was nice and should have lulled him, but he’s in John’s bed and John deliberately took his hand. No part of his mind or body isn't focused on this and trying to understand what it means.
Outside of criminal motivations he isn’t especially well versed in romantic entanglements or relationships and emotion. Sentiment. Yes. He admits it now. It's part of him and as long as he learns to control it, to structure it within his makeup then he should still be able to function as normal. He will still have the cases and maybe he will also have this.
The minutes tick by and he knows this should be especially boring, tedious even and yet he can't quite find it as such. He allows his eyes to close and enjoys this for what it is. Maybe this is all they're meant to be to each other, but it's more than he ever expected and this is good.
Still he wants though he knows it's not okay. John is still dealing with the loss of his wife and also John has often pointed out he's not...that many times before. Still Sherlock remembers a conversation long ago in an abandoned building when the woman said they were a couple and John's response was one of...acceptance? Resignation? Frustration? Truth be told he imagines anyone who could care for him in any fashion must feel all of those and more on most days.
Tonight was a repair and renewal and something even more. But there’s a connection still missing, words still unsaid.
John is apparently having a nightmare. The motion behind his eyelids is rapid. He tosses his head to the side. His brow furrows.
“John?” Sherlock calls.
He doesn't wake but responds with a soft “hmm.”
“I'm here,” Sherlock says. He hopes that's enough. In the dead of the night when he was captured and tortured for weeks the John of his mind would walk around each room of his palace and say just that to Sherlock. That calmed him more than any meditation or drug, at least more than the ones he had on hand.
A small smile creases John's lips and he's okay it seems. The dream must change because he breathes steady and his lips part. Sherlock doesn't let himself think about these things often. He doesn't dwell or indulge. He doesn't fantasize or imagine. Not often. But right now he wonders about the possibility of being allowed to feel as he does.
John shifts closer to Sherlock and Sherlock imagines he must be dreaming. The phrases "you're here" and "you're back" slip from John's lips. Though his eyes don't open. John is still on his side shifted towards Sherlock. He reaches out a hand to Sherlock’s waist and pulls him near, takes in a breath and repeats. "You came back."
This breaks Sherlock's heart a thousand times over. He can only imagine that John is dreaming of Mary. He isn't sure what to do. Does he wake John from what must be a happy dream or does he withstand the torment of the situation.
Before he can decide John maneuvers Sherlock closer. He can smell the alcohol present on his breath. It's both sweet and sour and reminds Sherlock of why John may be dreaming more heavily. John's hands drift south and take in a handful of Sherlock's backside. The grip is incredibly intoxicating to Sherlock and try as he might to stop it. He lets out a small sound of contentment. To be touched by John is something he never felt possible even in the most amazing of circumstances.
Sherlock thinks back to the first night he wanted this and how he realised it was an impossibility then. He tries to shake his head and remind himself that it is still an impossibility. He is not who John is reaching out to touch, to want. It’s Mary. She is still here in the room. He thinks of the cup remaining in the sink. She is still in John’s heart. He thinks of the words uttered moments ago. As John just said...she is “here.”
Sherlock doesn’t have time to dwell on this further as John’s upper body moves that much closer to Sherlock then his lower half thrusts forward. Sherlock's body is alight. A harsh breath is forced from his lungs. He feels his body respond quickly. He has to stop this. He has to. He tries to take a calming breath and get under control, but John's lips travel and find their way onto Sherlock's neck. He lays a gentle kiss there which breaks Sherlock. His eyes sting with the thought of what he cannot have. He cannot continue this.
"John?" His voice is calm, hushed. He doesn't want to startle John or cause him any anguish. But his voice turns firm as he repeats himself. “John.”.
John doesn't respond. At least not in the way Sherlock plans. John thrusts forward again, grips Sherlock further and caresses. Sherlock thinks he might be dying or has died.
Did he not make it off the plane? Did this past year not happen?
John Watson hard against his leg is the most amazing feeling he’s ever experienced. He absolutely wants, needs this to somehow be for him. In this moment he hates Mary for ever existing, hates himself for ever leaving, hates Moriarty for requiring the sacrifice, hates his brain, hates everything. In a few moments John will wake up and the horror on his face will be something Sherlock cannot stand to see. Still this has to end.
“John.” Sherlock says his name louder. His voice is strained with distress. John’s hand, which was caressing Sherlock’s backside rather expertly stills. John himself stills. Still he says nothing. Sherlock is trying to figure out if John wants the dignity of pretending this didn’t happen or if he should try his level best to make a joke to ease the tension. But all he can say is his name.
“John?” He says it this time in question, wondering if John is fully awake.
John pulls back a bit, the light is low, but Sherlock can make out his eyes. As expected they are set in horror.
“I’m--” he clears his throat, voice rough with sleep. “I’m sorry. I must've been dreaming.”
“I know,” Sherlock says. “It’s--It’s fine.” At least, Sherlock thinks to himself, he’ll try to make it fine. He thinks what John needs in this moment to make it better for him. He decides to ask, though he doesn’t want to ask, deciding to put John’s needs above his. “Do you-um, often, dream about...Mary?”
John shakes his head a bit. “No, Sherlock I-I was dreaming.”
“Yes, I know. It’s fine. I know you must miss her.”
“I do, but- I’m sorry.”
“I’m sorry,” Sherlock says, placing a hand on John’s shoulder. Trying to look in John’s eyes, but John closes his and looks away. His grip falls from Sherlock and he lays on his back, looks up at the ceiling.
“Sherlock, I--” John stops to clear his throat. "I was dreaming. One moment I was awake in bed and then I dozed off. And somehow it got jumbled up. I-I dreamed that I asked and , well, you said yes and right I’m guessing that didn’t actually happen and then I kinda….Jesus I’m sorry. I didn’t want it to be like this. I’m sorry.”
Sherlock hears John speaking, but also a buzzing fills his ears, muffles John’s words almost. Sherlock’s world falls off kilter and realigns and he can’t quite parse John’s words. It doesn’t quite make sense and Sherlock is rather sure he didn’t fall asleep himself, but perhaps he did because what John said doesn’t quite make sense in his reality.
“You--what?” Sherlock blurts. “What did you say?”
“I’m sorry. I really am. I thought I asked. I--I don’t want to force anything on you.” John takes a breath, inches further away creating a wide berth of space between the two. “We um--I’m sorry. I can uh...I can go sleep in my bed if you want.”
Sherlock says nothing, and he knows he should probably say something, but his brain is whirling, going around in circles, and it does not make sense.
‘No, I’m not asking no.’
‘Associate.’
‘For anyone cares I’m not actually gay.’
‘We’re not a couple.’
‘What the hell are they implying?’
“Right,” John says. He sits up “I’ll go.” He starts to shift as if he’s planning to leave.
Sherlock can very easily see the next moment and the next. How they’ll play out. John will leave and go upstairs to the bedroom. Sherlock will stare at the ceiling all night and wonder what happened. They’ll ignore it in the morning. They’ll ignore it forever. Eventually John will find another Sarah then another Mary. He thinks back to the letter John wrote to him short weeks ago.
Sherlock,
I trusted you when I knew I shouldn’t. And you made her trust you too. I know you didn’t mean for this to happen. But I can’t help but wonder if I didn’t stay in your life and let her stay too then this wouldn’t have happened. And now it’s just me and Rosie. So I can’t do this anymore. No cases. Nothing. Maybe one day we can be friends again, but for now I have to think about her and only her. And whatever our friendship was has to be placed firmly on hold.
Goodbye,
John
Sherlock reaches out a hand to John’s arm, moves it slowly down until he reaches John’s hand. He laces their fingers together, mimics John’s earlier motion and pulls John back down. John does goes down, but not easy and simple. Sherlock sees the tension, understands it, understands he has to say something. In this John cannot translate the world to him, Sherlock has to explain himself to John.
John is lying on his back looking up at the ceiling. Sherlock stares at his profile and tries to think, tries to think, tries to think.
“Please God,” John says. “Please say something.”
“Something.”
John huffs out a laugh which turns into a groan of frustration.
“Say something about what just happened. If you want to forget it I--”
“No,” Sherlock says. He shakes his head. Forget? “No.”
John turns his head to look at Sherlock. Sherlock sees the question in his eye, but waits for him to speak.
“And?” John sighs.”Fuck. We said we'd figure it out. We'd..." John pauses again. Sherlock waits.“We said we'd get our shit together."
"I know." Sherlock says. At least he knows they said it. What that meant he still didn't quite understand. Are they supposed to lay bare everything before the other? He doesn’t think that’s possible. Not now...maybe ever?
"What if we play a game?"
"I'm not a child, John."
"I know. Just....look this isn't easy for me either."
"I know."
"So....five questions each. Yes or no kinda' thing."
"One."
"One is not enough."
"Three then."
"Fine. But I get two extra "
"Why do you get two extra?"
"Because you played dead for two years!”
Sherlock bites his tongue. Always this. But he understands that at least. "Fine."
“You start.”
"Do you regret it?"
"It?"
"The...thing you--we--you were just doing. The...dry hu-”
"Stop. Don't say it." John holds up his free hand.
"So you do."
"No, it's just that if you say 'humping’ then I won’t be able to stop laughing.” John gives a snicker and the sound eases Sherlock immeasurably.
"Fine just…’it’ then. Do you regret it, John?"
"Yes and no."
"It has to be one or the other."
"Then..." John turns his head to look at Sherlock, ensuring their eyes meet. "No."
Sherlock blinks and blinks as his world realigns yet again. John gives him a gentle poke with his elbow. The one on the arm where their hands are still linked.
"Do you have...no. Do you feel? No, I know you do. I felt it the other morning. "
"Oh God."
"I mean that could have been a biological, a dream about-- But I mean "
"Dear God. Will you get on with it?"
"Do you have those feelings...could you for someone you think?"
"Yes."
"For Irene?"
"No."
John goes quiet. Sherlock can’t interrupt. This is too tenuous for him to even consider pushing his hand.
"For Janine?"
"No. You're wasting your questions guessing names."
"Fine. Your turn."
Sherlock thinks long and hard.
"Did you throw out my spores that time you swore you didn't."
"What?"
"I want to know. You always said you didn't and Mrs. Hudson was at her sisters. I don’t recall throwing them out. And Mycroft hadn’t sent his cleaning minions around to check up on me for ages at that point."
"Sherlock, What? These questions are supposed to be about us. "
"This is about us. And it's a rare opportunity to confirm something I’ve long wondered."
"No, I didn't.” John answers firmly. Then a smile creeps on his face. “But I may have asked Mrs. Turner to do it for me when she came to water Mrs. Hudson’s plants."
“Mrs. Turner! Ahhh. Of course.”
“They were toxic, Sherlock.”
“Should’ve known. She would never look me in the eye.”
“That was probably because she thought you’d figure out she was a part-time marijuana dealer.”
“What?”
“Where do you think Mrs. Hudson gets it from? Plus she owns property in central London along with Mrs. Hudson. She also rarely leaves the house.”
“I can’t believe I missed that.”
“Yeah well you weren’t to know. I only know because she offered me some out of sympathy after you...when you di--were away.”
“Ahh.”
John begins the motion from earlier. His thumb swiping back and forth. He and Sherlock are both lying on their backs again, staring up at the ceiling….again. Avoiding again.
"If I were to kiss you. How would feel about...that?" John turns his head, seems to wait for Sherlock’s reaction.
Sherlock blinks just once and opens his mouth to respond then freezes. He turns to look at John.
"What happened to 'not gay'?"
"Mostly...well. You."
Sherlock’s eyes close and he breathes in this moment. He doesn’t open his eyes, but begins to speak. "I knew a few times. "
"Knew?"
"I knew when Mike brought you in the lab that day. And then over dinner at Angelos. I know when you showed up after I said danger. When you shot a man for me. Half a dozens of times after that of course. I completely knew when I had to leave and play dead. When I came back and when you got married. John, I've known I was in love with you for some time now.”
John takes a shaky breath. He turns and his hand slowly descends to cup Sherlock’s face. He tilts it towards him and Sherlock takes the note. He opens his eyes then turns to look at John.
John smiles and looks into Sherlock’s eyes then speaks. "Whatever happened to being 'married to your work'?"
"You," Sherlock says. His lips are pursed and beautiful around the word.
"I'm going to kiss you now. Okay?"
“Yes.”
***
Sherlock is sat in his chair texting. John is looking around 221B with trepidation, but the knowledge that once this is all fixed they’ll start something entirely new here.
He smiles at Sherlock.
“Are you going to help at all?”
“Of course I am, but I’m off to see my sister first.”
“Perfect timing in the middle of cleaning. Is this a plot to get me to do everything?”
“Of course not, but she may or may not hold me hostage until the place is done. Don’t worry about me. Just carry on with the cleaning and text me when you’re done.”
John laughs and starts to clean. Sherlock does help though then leaves much later than planned. Each moment he’s away with Eurus John worries, but Sherlock texts him before and after up until the moment he is back at John’s place and they discuss how much John got done without Sherlock and the progress Sherlock has made not only with Eurus, but with finding the Borgia pearl.
Molly comes over the next day while Sherlock is gone. John isn’t sure what to say to her, but she puts on a pair of gloves and starts helping. In the middle of John giving up on putting the coffee table back together and realizing they need a rounded one anyways Molly turns to him with a smile.
“So me and Greg are shagging now.”
“Oh! Well um--”
“I wanted to tell you just in case you or other people were worried about...things. I’m okay.”
John isn’t sure if he should say, but he needs to be honest with her and they’ve told no one yet.
“Sherlock and I are um--”
“I know.” She smiles then gets back to trying to piece a mug together.
“How do you know?” John is shocked. Would Sherlock have told her?
“Me and Mrs. Hudson. We kinda figured after the other day when we had Rosie...when you called.”
“Oh.” John thinks back to that night and how they finally said it. He smiles. “So you and Lestrade?”
Molly smiles and tells him all the details he does and doesn’t want to hear.
***
Sherlock finds the Borgia pearl a week later and the place is nearly done. They lay in bed that night close. He's happy and sated in a way he never thought possible, but has been putting off this conversation and trying to figure out how to say it.
“Thank you for the new child proof things in the flat. I appreciate it.”
“Well of course. If Rosie is to--”
“But we can’t move in now.” John blurts it out. They’ve talked. They’ve talked a lot. They know where they stand with each other, but they never explicitly discussed living arrangements when this was all said and done. And time is needed.
“Oh.” Sherlock says. The look on his face is painful and John just wants to kiss it away. So he does. He lays a gentle kiss on Sherlock’s lips and still feels a thrill that he’s allowed to do this with this man whom he loves.
“It’s just for a bit. For Rosie and the minder and my job and for…”
“Safety.”
“Yes, I’m sorry. It’s just --it wasn’t a few weeks ago a grenade was set off in our flat and I just need to try to get something in place first. Mycroft and me are working on security layouts and once we’re done we-”
Sherlock surges forward to kiss him. He didn't expect that.
“So you’re okay with this?”
“Obviously. As you said. A grenade was set off in our flat and we need to make it more secure.” Sherlock stresses the word “our” and John smiles bright. “I agree. I’ll text Mycroft to speed it up though.”
“Okay good.”
As they fall asleep John tells him about the one time things came close to happening with James Sholto and with a few others, but Sherlock is the first man he's been in love with entirely.
Sherlock tells John of every time he almost told John he was in love with him.
They promise never to hide from one another again.
***
Irene is happy to receive the pearl and she gives Sherlock his thanks in the form of him watching her delete his number from her phone. It’s a largely symbolic act, but an important one between the two adversaries.
“If I could give you one bit of advice before we part ways entirely, Sherlock.”
“No thanks,” he says and walks towards her door, but she calls out to him anyway
“Protect that heart of yours.”
Sherlock shakes his head no, but doesn’t elaborate. He's done with that.
***
The DVD shows up and John calls him over. They watch it together in silence as Sherlock stands awkwardly and John sits tiredly, wondering if this is the final message she has for him. Wondering if another will show up each time he gets ready to move.
They look at each other once it finishes playing.
“Janine assures me this is the last,” he says.
John nods. He stands and takes Sherlock’s hand. He pushes the coat off Sherlock’s shoulders and ushers him to sit. Sherlock does and John in turn sits atop and straddles him. They kiss for hours on the same cushions where they finally spoke their truth. When they’re finally breathless and smiling, John remembers they must pick up Rosie. He stands and offers his hand. Sherlock takes it and they walk to fetch their daughter from Mouse.
***
Sherlock kisses John on the day he moves back in. He even allows John to chose the code for the security alarm. Then, of course, changes it when John sentimentally chooses 0129 for the day they met.
They eat dinner then Sherlock helps with the cleaning afterwards. He walks up stairs to put Rosie down as John finishes the last of the dishes. He kisses her on the forehead. John walks in to see him brush back a wisp of hair. John smiles then takes Sherlock’s hand and leads him downstairs to their bedroom. He takes him to bed. It is John’s first time with a man and he’s nervous until Sherlock explains he sometimes gets instantly hard just by seeing John walk into a room.
“You’re lying.”
Sherlock shakes his head. “Ever noticed how often I pretend you’re not even there? It’s self-preservation you see.”
John laughs and kisses him. He uses every tool in his arsenal to make Sherlock feel pleasure and Sherlock somehow finds new spots on John’s body which make him feel like he’s never truly understood what an orgasm was before now. They fall asleep that night and many nights after in their home.
***
They fight.
They scream.
They yell.
They makeup.
They find their way around loving each other and living the life they chose.
Rosie gets older.
She calls Sherlock papa.
Sherlock buys her a dog. John names it Woggie.
This annoys Sherlock to no end as he has suggested Gladstone.
Sherlock’s uni boyfriend shows up and asks for Sherlock’s help with finding his son.
Once the boy is found Sherlock bids Yuri goodbye and John apologises for all those years in which Sherlock had to see him with someone else.
Sherlock says John is an idiot because John is all Sherlock could ever want.
***
Molly and Greg get married.
Sherlock is once again named best man.
John beams as Sherlock gives his speech and brings the entire wedding party to tears as Sherlock thanks Greg for saving his life by giving him an addiction that allowed him to help others and had the added bonus of being slightly less dangerous than the alternative. Greg interrupts his speech to hug Sherlock. Molly dabs her eyes and hugs him as well.
John waits until everyone is busy giving best wishes to the bride and congratulating the groom to pull Sherlock to the side and tell him how incredibly sexy he looks in that suit and how he wants to do things to Sherlock while wearing it.
"Oh?" Sherlock cocks an eye then holds up a key to their room.
John grins and takes Sherlock to their room. He musses up Sherlock's suit very effectively.
***
John asks Sherlock. Sherlock says no.
Sherlock asks a week later and explains he said no because he wanted to ask and the rings he ordered hadn't arrived yet.
Mrs. Hudson makes all the food for the very small ceremony.
She and Sherlock’s mother talk at length to Harry and they all agree those boys are really quite dumb and this should have happened years ago.
Harry and John hug. They apologise and say they'll be more kind to each other. Harry got her 1 year chip and she thanks John for inviting her and keeping the bar dry to help her with this step.
She makes eyes at Janine. Sherlock says it's a rather good match. John makes Sherlock promise nothing happened between him and her. Sherlock reminds John that he is 100% gay and as soon as their sex holiday begins he will remind him of that fact in as many ways and positions possible.
***
Three years past Mary's death a package arrives with a set of maps and a coded letter. John wants to throw it away, but they agree for the sake of Rosie to figure it out. They work day and night tracking down the leads and clues. It leads them around the world twice. Rosie stays with Aunt Molly and Uncle Greg with Uncle Myc providing round the clock security.
At the end of the trail they find themselves in Prague with a gun pointed to John's head and a man demanding Sherlock reveal where Mary was hiding or else he'd pull the trigger. He doesn't believe she's dead and they have unfinished business. Sherlock says he knows nothing, but the man doesn't believe him. The man cocks the gun then Sherlock sees the world stop. He is knocked back and hits his head. Moments later he's come to, but with blood on himself and John.
“John? John? Are you okay? Oh God!”
“I'm fine. I'm fine.” John reassures him. “This is his blood. He's dead.”
“How?”
“I don't know.” They look around for the obvious sharp shooter who took the man out. Once they're back in their hotel room showered and clean they both go quiet, neither wanting to speak the possibility aloud. They decide to clear out the mini bar and order food before their plane ride back. The drinks aren't as strong as they like, but still it helps John finally loosen his tongue.
“It could be her,” John says. Sherlock nods. He doesn't say anything. John isn't sure what he's thinking and he needs to know. “What do you know?”
“I only know what you know. And that...Well I suppose it's possible she did this because she knew she was in danger and that you and Rosie were as well. So she did it for love of you.” Sherlock takes a drink. “I can understand that.” He gives a sad smile. “If you want to return to her given the opportunity I can understand that as well.”
John shakes his head, he takes Sherlock's hand in his and waits for him to look at him. “Sherlock, no. We don't know who it was, but if it was her it doesn't matter. You may have not noticed, but I am desperately in love with you. I have been for some time now. I married you. I want to be with you until the day I die. Okay?”
Sherlock smiles. “Okay.”
In the end they track down a lead to a woman who is not Mary, but rather Janine. John swears to not tell Harry as long as Janine promises this is her last job.
“It is. Just paying back the favor for her. That man should be the last of it.”
She and John visit Mary's grave along with Rosie and Sherlock. They all leave a single rose for her. And bid her a final goodbye.
***
Five years gone and John gets a call from a publisher in New York. They want to turn his blog into a book. He agrees and spends the next few months picking out his and Sherlock's favorite cases. In bed one night he muses to Sherlock about which case to end the book with.
Sherlock suggests the first case where John realised he loved Sherlock.
John sees this for the clever ruse that it is and he knows Sherlock just wants to hear John tell him he loved him from the start.
So John does. He recounts their first meeting to Sherlock. Sherlock falls asleep hearing it. John falls asleep telling it.
They both dream of that first meeting and wake up the next morning with a smile.
The end.