Chapter Text
John was at his sister's place when he received Sherlock's first text. Then another, and another… One every hour. Laughing as John was becoming more and more restless, he even put his phone on mute since the beginning of the day!, Harry picked it up while he was in the kitchen checking on the food. On his return, Clara and Harry were reading Sherlock’s texts, cooing ‘poor man’ and ‘men are idiots’…
“What? Give me that Harriet Watson!” He tries to get his phone from her hand, but she tackles him while tossing the phone to Clara.
“John! You must talk to the man!” She was playfully pushing him on the sofa, where she simply sits on her brother to immobilize him. “He clearly love you. It’s all in the sub-text.”
“I don’t want to read them! I’m over him…” His tone was ridiculously unconvincing.
Pining his brother down, Harry winks at Clara who starts reading the texts aloud.
Hi, it's me. SH
You know it’s me, sorry for the obvious. SH
I mean. I am sorry. SH
I shouldn’t have act like that, it was stupid. SH
I don’t mean that I am stupid, but the way I acted was. SH
Ok, maybe sometimes I am stupid. Like being at my parents’ place for Christmas. This is stupid. SH
And I should have replied to your texts. SH
I really should have. To all 34 of them. SH
Like you should reply to mine… SH
When you are ready. SH
Good night John. Merry Christmas. SH
It's December 26th. The middle of the holiday season. So, it’s a great moment to be forgiven and everything. SH
I am back at my place. Ms. Hudson is really jolly. Or she’s having an epileptic crisis. SH
It’s nerve-wracking either way. SH
I’ve been sending texts for more than 24 hours now. You really not want to talk to me… It’s ok. I understand. SH
Sorry. I won’t text again. SH
“This is the last one, one hour ago. John… talk to him! You are obviously not over him…” Clara was trying with pleading puppy eyes.
“Yes, brother, call him! Don’t be proud… He is asking for your forgiveness!” Harry was hugging her little brother. “Come on…” Then John’s phone rings. For real. A real phone call. John closes his eyes, his resistance fading. What? He’s actually calling? “John! What are you doing! Reply! It’s Sherlock!” Shaking his head, the doctor let the voice mail take care of his heart. I will simply erase it, I can’t hear his voice… But too late, Clara – that conniving bloody little sister-in-law – clicks on the message and Sherlock’s baritone voice resonates in the living room.
“John… It’s me Sherlock… Sorry. Obvious again. I said that I would'nt text you again but I have something to say so… I’m calling you. But you are either a) not near your phone or b) you don’t want to talk to me.” After a few seconds, the detective chuckles sadly “Or c) you desperately want to talk to me but you’ve been kidnapped or you finally killed that meddling sister of yours and you left the country.” At these words Clara lost it and laughs gleefully. Harry quickly hisses shtttt to quiet her! “I’m so sorry John… the last days have been… Anyway.” The detective voice broke… “If it’s either a) or c) call me back.”
Clara and Harry look at John expectantly, but John simply pushes his sister away and stalks out of the room.
5 days later...
Sherlock, was agitated. Not knowing what to do… I apologized! Many times! And I did nothing wrong! I was… I was confused and I needed time to think, that’s all! “MS. HUDSON!”
The old lady, who was trying to change Sherlock mood by giving him all his favourite threats, summersaulted. “Yes, darling.”
“I’ve said I was sorry. I never said sorry that much time in my life. No even to Mommy when I burned her vison coat.” He was pacing the living room, unable to relax. “What can I do! It’s been DAYS! Nearly a WEEK!”
“Are you talking about John, Sherlock?” The poor lady was already a little tipsy as she opened a second bottle of champagne to celebrate the upcoming year.
“Of course! Who else! If you have nothing to say that can help me, please shut up and go! But leave the biscuits.”
She taps him roughly on the hand. “SHERLOCK!”
“Sorry…” The detective was really looking contrite… I’m messing up everything.
“That’s ok, you’re under great stress at present…”
“That! THAT’S NORMAL! I said sorry, you said ok… That’s all, case closed!”
“Matters of the heart are more complicated” The experienced lady murmurs, hugging Sherlock. “Maybe try to do something that he knows it’s difficult for you, something out of the ordinary…”
“I can’t just send flowers…” The man argues with a defeated tone. “I tried.”
“Ooohhh Sherlock. Don’t worry you’re gone find something. For now, we are relaxing, drinking champagne and waiting for the fireworks on the tv. It’s New Year’s Eve, I don’t want you to stay here alone…”
“Ms. Hudson!” He kisses her on both cheeks “You’re a genius!” He sent a text quickly to Greg then went for a quick shower and a change of clothes.
John was bored to death. And sad. Probably more sad then bored. He was sitting at a big round table, with Mike and his wife as well as other friends from work. Irene was here with him, she’s the one who forced him to get out of his flat, but his table was empty as all the other were dancing or at the bar. He sighs, wondering if he could sneak out to before the countdown to midnight. What else can be done when you are at a New Year’s Eve party, without someone you wanted to kiss.
Mike was coming back to the table with two drinks, a big goofy smile on his lips. “Ouf! I can’t dance like this anymore! I’m more a slow pace kind of dancer…” He sits down heavily and looks at him. “Are you ok, mate?” He places a drink in front of John.
“Yes, yes… I’m just tired, is all.” Who am I fooling… “I’ve been stupid… I don’t know what to do. I still love him, you know but… but I can’t forget those weeks were he let me imagine the worst. It was important for me, it was… us. Finally. And then he abandoned me.” He raises his glass to Mike and takes a sip. “He’s not the only one with doubts and questions. He should have been able to wait for us to talk together.” Mike, not knowing what to say – is there anything to say – nods and sips his drink, his hand on John’s shoulder.
His wife found them still lost in their thoughts fifteen minutes later. “Boys! It’s almost midnight! Come on, Mike - I want to dance with you!” She drags her husband onto the dance floor. “And you, Doctor Watson, Irene is waiting for you!” John rolls his eyes, knowing perfectly well that Irene wasn’t in need of a partner for the last dance of the year. With either a man or woman! She was in fact dancing currently with a pretty blonde, even if she was glancing at him frequently. He shakes his head, ‘Don’t worry, I’m fine’ in her direction and rises to leave the reception hall, not wanting to be around the tumultuous crowd at midnight.
Sherlock was running, mentally thanking Greg for John's whereabouts, trying to figure out the fastest way to do the few kilometres between his flat and the reception hall where the doctor was. John, My John… His shoes were slipping on the lightly snowy sidewalk, his curls bouncing in every way destroying the two minutes styling he had done before rushing out of 221b. Each passing minute bringing memories of the last two years. It looks that we will never be friends… Go on, impress the boy!... I’m sorry John, I don’t do friends… Nice meeting you again, hope to see you at another time… I wouldn’t endure half of your quirks from a mere date!... I am your friend… You can tell me anything… I don’t need happiness!... Oh God John I was a fool, I was so wrong! He remembered John's look of possessiveness when someone looked at him too closely, his eyes when he said ‘I love you’… When his hands were on him… He finally turned onto the street and found himself in front of the hotel. His chest was heaving, trying to get control of his breath. He had run faster than he ever had, even when trying to catch a criminal, but John was worth a thousand cases. He adjusted his suit, tried to fix his curls and walked inside the hotel in search of the reception hall.
John was advancing with difficulty, passing thru the couples and happy inebriated bachelors, barring with a tight smiles the advances of many women and a few men, before he reaches the edge of the room. He closes his eyes for a second, the sadness of being without Sherlock suddenly overwhelming.
“John…”
The doctor opens his eyes slowly, not trusting his ears… It was real, Sherlock was in front of him. The beautiful, mad man… Oh Fuck, I missed him so much!
“John… I won’t talk to you again if you don’t want me to, but could you please… Give me a minute. Please.” Sherlock was uncustomarily nervous. “First, I want to say that I’m sorry about the way I… abandoned you that morning.” John remains silent, not trusting himself to not simply jump in his arms already. “It wasn’t something that you’d done.” The brightest smile appears for a second “You were… perfect. Simply perfect.” His head falls, it was clearly hard for him to express his feelings, especially in such a public place. “I've been thinking a lot in the last weeks. And I realize, among many things, that I never answered you..”
With a small voice, John asks “About?”
“I love you, too.”
With blinking eyes, John utters “What?”
“I never replied to your declaration. I’m doing it now officially. Doctor John H. Watson, I love you.” As he was gazing into the eyes of the man in front of him, the countdown starts and the partygoers start singing and shouting.
“How am I suppose to respond to that?” John chuckles as hope was spreading in his chest.
“You can tell me that you still love me… That I didn’t muck up everything.”
“Are you sure… I won’t be able to go thru that again. I don’t want pity, I don’t want uncertainty, I want you. You and everything that comes with it. I’m willing to deal with the craziness and everything as long as you love me.”
“I love you. I love that you don’t accept any bullshit from me, I love that you are impressed by what I do, but know your own worth, I love that your very presence made me better, I love that you nag me to eat and to sleep… I love when you leave my flat and that your scent is everywhere around me but I prefer it even more when you are near me and that I can sense it directly from you, I love that you are the last person I text in the evening and the first in the morning...” He frowns a little “In fact, I think it would be more efficient if we were in the same bed, but if you want to go slowly I understand…” His eyes lock onto John's, hoping that he’s able to convey all the love he fells in each fibre of his body. Balloons and confetti were falling around them as the hour struck twelve. “And, at last, I am here because when you are honest enough to see the truth and realize that you want to spend the rest of your life with somebody, you want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible.”
A gobsmacked John shakes his head “Oh God, what am I supposed to say to that!”
With a coy smile, Sherlock suggests, “I love you, maybe? And that you’re ok with the whole ‘sharing a bed’ thing?”
Taking the tall man by the lapels of his coat, he pulls him into a kiss and murmurs between each breath. “I love you”. After few minutes, a blushing Sherlock and John realise that the crowd was cheering them.
“Happy New Year, My darling John…” The detective wishes gently, holding the doctor close.
“Happy New Year, My love…”
*
Far from the excitement, Irene Adler was sending pictures of the couple to an unregistered number.
You were right, they are made for each other. IA
Thank you for your cooperation in this matter, you will be greatly rewarded. JM
And now? IA
I will let them have a few months of bliss… Then the Game will begin. JM
Closing her phone, Irene watches the couple that was now dancing among the crowd, a feeling of uneasiness in the pit of her stomach. She brushes it away quickly, They are strong enough... and walked languorously in the direction of the perky blonde, leaving her guilt behind her.
Fin!
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