Work Text:
A Necessary Conversation
20th, March 2022
“You’re joking. There’s no possible way that you’re telling me the truth right now.” John’s eyes were wide.
“I wouldn't joke about something like this, John.” How tedious.
“We have to take her where for her swimming certificate?”
“Don’t be obtuse, John. You heard me the first time.”
“I really don’t want to go there again. The last time we were there, we were covered with shock blankets and taken to A&E for observation. Not to mention how far away it is from the flat. It would take us over two hours to get there.” The memory sent a shiver down John’s spine.
“Rosie’s swim instructor isn’t able to make it to the usual location. She had a recertification class to teach there to other lifeguards and swim instructors. She won’t have time to get back to London to make our appointment and give Rosie her completion certificate.”
“I suppose we could make a day of it. Bristol is lovely. There’s a park near there. Could pack a lunch. She has been looking forward to finishing her lessons. She’s been telling all her friends at school about her course and her instructor.”
“I think it would do us good. Don’t you? Go there. Face whatever demons we may still have, lingering in our minds.”
“You’re actually thinking about the positive aspects of psychology?”
“I just think it would be nice for us to face it together. As a family. We left there right after a significant trauma and never had a chance to make our peace with it; if such a situation could exist after something like that.”
John shuffled his feet. “We’ve never really talked about that, have we?”
“We’ve danced around it a bit. But we’ve never really had a conversation about it, no.”
“Would you like to talk about it? Now?”
“I suppose we could. If you’re up for that.” Sherlock looked hopeful.
“I’ve always wanted to ask you: Did you think I was Moriarty when you first saw me? Or think I was involved in his plot?”
“To be honest, for a few seconds, all I saw was the semtex on your body. I was unable to think for a few seconds. The thought of you dying was all I could think of. You being a part of Moriarty’s nefarious scheme? Never once crossed my mind.”
“Honestly, I thought you did think that. I thought, ‘Oh God. He’s going to think I’m involved in this, and take me out!’”
“You really thought I would hurt you?”
“I know you wanted to beat him. If you thought I was a part of that, I wasn’t sure how you’d react to seeing me that way. Not to mention when he made me repeat his words to you.”
“Never. Not for one moment.”
“Really? Not even to best Moriarty?”
“You were so valuable to me, even then. I was truly terrified for your safety, John. I knew you’d never be involved with his conspiracy to ruin me.”
“I guess I underestimated you. That was foolish of me, yeah?”
“No, John. You underestimated yourself. You tend to do that quite a lot and I wish you’d stop.”
“Noted, love.”
“I mean it. I loved you even then. My first and only concern was your safety. And then you went and tried to sacrifice yourself so I could escape. Not to mention your willingness to die with me when it looked as though there was no other way to eliminate him other than shooting that semtex vest. I can still see your nod. We’ve had that ability since we met. Wordless conversations.”
“I was prepared to do those things, you know. Let whatever happen to me happen so you could get away and survive. And, at the end there, I was prepared to do whatever it took to remove Moriarity from this world. It would have been my pleasure to die alongside you, Sherlock. I’d do it all again.”
By this point, they both had tears in their eyes. So much sentiment for a Wednesday morning. They hadn’t even had breakfast yet.
“We can’t talk to each other about living and dying for and with each other like that without at least a hug, can we? Come here, Sherlock, Christ!”
They walked to each other with a renewed purpose; their arms circling behind a back and a neck; a forehead on a shoulder and another on a chest. John lifted his head from Sherlock’s breast after a few moments: “I’d die for you, you know. In a second.”
“And me as well. Although I’d prefer we didn’t have to ever make that choice again.”
“We’ll both try to make better choices. Especially with work. Rosie needs us, and we need each other. “ They held each other for a few moments, their watery eyes drying without tears falling. This would not be an unhappy day.
“So, would you let Emily know that we’ll be bringing Rosie next week?”
A kiss to the top of John’s forehead was confirmation enough. More of that nonverbal communication.
“While you call her, I’ll make us some brekkie. How about bacon and toast?
Another kiss to John’s hair and a tight squeeze around his back.
By the time Sherlock was done with his call to Emily, he returned to the kitchen to already find the bacon crispy and the toast buttered and jammed.
The mood in the flat felt lighter, the people living there never realising there was something weighing it down the whole time.