Chapter Text
'Somebody shine a light,
a frozen battlefield in me,
Somebody make me feel alive and Shatter me.
So cut me from the light,
this is spinning endlessly,
Somebody make me feel alive and Shatter me!'
He was bored.
Unfortunately, as he would have it, but he had no cases, and of course John had been out all day. At work he thought, but it was very annoying, he hated being bored. As much as he hated having to talk to idiots, but this was worst.
So, because of his boredom he resumed a fetal position on the safety of his leather chair, and sulked. He had his blue silk robe tightly wrapped around him as if to try, as best as he could, to keep the boredom at bay, but to his out most dismay it only got worst.
He gave a loud deep sigh, that if John were here would have gave him an annoyed look and would ask what he wanted. The truth of the matter was he didn't really know what he wanted. A case maybe, but that didn't feel like it would help. He just couldn't think, and when he couldn't think properly he would get even more annoyed, and he knew that if John returned to him acting this way that it just wouldn't end well for either of them.
He was contemplating on continuing his blood sample experiment when he looked over at his violin, sat untouched on the side table, collecting dust. He just didn't feel like playing before, so he had abandon the thing all together for a while, at least, until now.
He decided right away that that's what he would do, so he sat up, with as much effort that he could manage, and moved his hand over to grasp the wooden instrument .
He leaned it up, propping it onto his leg, and then started to tune his instrument of choice. Well, it really wasn't his choice. It was that of his parents, who at the time insisted that he do something other than create chaos in the Holmes household, so he did as he was told, against his free will, and took the lessons.
He found after sometime that he actually enjoyed the stringed instrument, and continued, without fuss, with his lesson, and got better and better. He became connected to the stringed instrument in a way that he didn't think he'd be able to find. Whenever he felt any type of emotion that would hinder him the ability to think properly, he would turn to his instrument of chose, because now, he did choice to have it in his life.
That is, until he discovered dancing.
He had passed a dance studio on his way home one day from school, and stopped dead in his tracks. He thought that it was ridiculous at first to be watching, but then he became mesmerized by the fluid motions that the dancers in the studio were creating. It was graceful, and yet had the fire of power all behind it. It was exhilarating .
So, since he first saw the dancers, he decided to take dance lessons as well.
Therefore, when he had completed his violin lessons, he would go straight over to the dance studio and learned how to dance.
It was always a danger to do this because his parents would seriously disapprove of his decision to dance as well. So, he would practice as told on the violin, but then in secret he would practice his dancing. He learned to Waltz, and river dance, and then ballet. Which was his absolute favorite to do. It was extremely difficult to master ballet, but once he had he did it all the time, along with combining it with contemporary dance, he was able to make it his own.
But he wanted a new challenge and he knew exactly how he would do this.
He went back home after a dance lesson one dance, sneaking his dance bag, and shoes in. to the safety of his room, to where he started to experiment with his violin and dancing at the same time.
It became even more difficult. He practiced all the time now with this new challenge before him. He would trip and fall, or would miss a note, or would completely forget to play while he was dancing. It was truly a challenge of mind over matter. To be able to control his movements while he danced and played at the same time.
After almost a year of this he finally was able to do just as he set out to do. He was able to finally find a harmonious melody of dance and music all at the same time, and it felt amazing.
He had never felt more alive, than when he was doing both of the things that he fell in love to do.
He did this for almost another year. Just falling into the realms of his emotions and feeling alive, free, being himself, until Mycroft had come home.
He was in the middle of one of his sessions, with his tights and a white t-shirt thrown on, with his ballet slippers, playing his violin away, when he heard an audible gasp at the door. He stopped immediately what he was doing turned quickly towards his older brother.
"Mycroft?" His eyes were wide with surprise. Not by the violin but his attire.
"Sherlock. What have you?..."
"Please, Mycroft, I just wanted to try it out. I have still practiced with the violin but I walked by the dance studio and I just wanted to try it out and..."
"Enough." He was cut off min-ramble by Mycroft raising a hand to him. He tried to plead with his eyes for Mycroft not to tell, but of course somehow he knew that it would never be so easy.
"I'm sorry Sherlock. I truly am." He said this as his parents took all his dance things. His tights, shirts, bags, and to his dismay, his slippers. He watched as they took away something that he had made apart of his life, and he couldn't say a word.
"No, you get to be sorry. I will never forgive you for this." He said with as much venom as he could muster, and slammed the door on Mycroft's face, leaving him to wept in a curled position against the door. He hated him, he hated his parent, he hated that they took dancing away from him, but worst of all he hated feeling alone once again.
After these events he was instructed to come home on time right after his violin lesson which got shortened as well, and he hurt. He hurt so much. It got worst when the other students in his class found out that he had been going over to the dance studio. Apparently a group of girls in his grade was walking by and had spotted him in the studio and had snapped a bunch of pictures of him. He was devastated.
He felt everything start to crumble all around him. He would play when he needed, but it still didn't help, and then he turned to drugs.
He stalled in his tuning trying to shake himself of the awful memories. It had been a tough time for him. He was happy when he was finally free of his parents household, but it still didn't help. In fact it only got worst. He had to admit if he hadn't met Lestrade that he may have been lost forever , but he had and started to continue his first love which was solving crimes.
This went on for several years, but in the time frame, his mind wandered back to the idea of drugs which he had been able to clean himself of, but his mind went back.
Then the unthinkable happened. He met John. It felt like how it was when he danced and when he played all at once. Alive. He made him feel alive. So, he indulged with this new feeling keeping close, but not too close, but it couldn’t be helped he fell so deep. So, during the times that John was away to work or other, he turned back to dancing once again.
He had purchased some tights, and slippers a few years back just because he could, but never indulged into it, but then he fell when John came and said 'Fuck it' and indulged.
It felt amazing. Even more so when he was able to combined other pieces of music to match his violin playing and his dancing. It was even more amazing because he would think about John and him solving crimes together, and he would dance even harder. He felt alive once again, and so he did this practice, but he would wait till John was gone and when he knew Mrs. Hudson wouldn't disturbed him and fell into his love of dancing once more.
There were times where he almost got caught, but was able to keep it a secret. And the secret of his growing love for his flat mate , but he was almost too late when he had come back after two years of being away.
John was getting married and had a baby on the way. He was once again devastated.
He did go back to drugs but it was for a case, but then again it wasn't. Then everything with Mary happened. Him shot. A few months later he was saying goodbye, and not saying goodbye, Moriarty, then Mary got killed.
It all seemed to fly by so quickly. Now here he was tuning his violin, two years after Mary's death. John had finally come back, and it seemed everything was going back to normal, or so he thought.
John had come back but he acted different towards Sherlock, not bad, but good actually, but he still couldn't figure out what was going on. Lately John had been looking at him for long periods of time, or touching him on his shoulder or his hand, lightly, but firm at the same time, and each time it happened it would take his breath away.
He shook himself of these thoughts and resumed back to tuning once he was satisfied. He gently set the instrument down and went to his room to retrieve what he needed.
He didn’t have a whole lot of time for the major slippers so kept to his simple pair. Lacing them up underneath his trousers, then slipping his robe off, leaving him in only his black trousers, white button down long sleeve shirt, and of course his slippers, he stood back up, and went back to the sitting room.
Once he came back he went back over to his iPhone, plugging it into his iHome , and selecting the song he wanted. Once he found it, he went back over to retrieve his violin and bow, walking back over to the middle of the room where there was more space, and once he was ready and in place, he took a deep breath and turned to his player and pressed play.
As the music began it's slow build, he breathed slow, and deep, closing his eyes, right before, then he picked up his violin and started to play. As he started to play, he swayed in time to the music, moving his foot forward and then arching his back right when it began to pick up. He threw himself forward, moving his legs around, picking them up as it started it's slow climb to the crescendo.
'I pirouette in the dark
I see the stars through a mirror
Tired mechanical heart
Beats 'til the song disappears'
He spun in a circle, swinging his leg around him, pitching forward in order to help propel him into the crescendo , and once it came he pushed himself forward onto one foot, picking his other leg up to feel the weight of the song as it lifted him higher and higher.
'Somebody shine a light
I'm frozen by the fear in me
Somebody make me feel alive
And shatter me
So cut me from the line
Dizzy, spinning endlessly
Somebody make me feel alive
And shatter me'
Then he dropped his back again arching it into the song, the music lifting him into the dance that he was creating. He was able to push forward to leap into the air landing on his foot, and lifting the other only to letting it swing back down into an arch to carry him into another spin.
He was panting, breathing hard, heart beating against his chest, he felt so alive.
He was able to push himself onto the point of his toes, stretching himself wide, allowing the music to tingle and electrify every nerve ending in his body. He raised himself to his full height and then with the crescendo once again had him drop ping down low, swooping back up to jump, spin in the air. This was fantastic.
'Shatter me!
Somebody make me feel alive
And shatter me!'
It all made him feel truly alive, and with that came the flittering thoughts of John came back into his mind. He felt like everything would come to a dead stop, but no he refused his minds effort to make him stop and only pushed himself more. He wanted to feel this, needed to feel this, because this, this was how he felt for John and he wouldn't miss another opportunity to indulge into this feeling. This feeling of being...Alive.
'If only the clockwork could speak
I wouldn't be so alone
We'd burn every magnet and spring
And spiral into the unknown'
He threw himself into the crescendo once again, ducking down only to throw himself back up into the air, spinning and landing gracefully onto his feet. He pushed forward, dropping down, rolling on the floor and then jumping back up again. He pushed everything he had into the song, into the music, his dancing. Allowing the emotions that he was feeling ride right through him, all over him, right into his very heart and soul. This was everything he could ever want and it was all because of John.
'If I break the glass then I'll have to fly
There's no one to catch me if I take a dive
I'm scared of change and the days stay the same
The world is spinning but only in gray...'
These were the few times that he allowed himself to truly feel what he wanted, without fear of rejection, or being called a freak, none of it mattered, not now. Now, was his time, and how he felt free to be himself, to be able to feel the pounding infection of love that poured through his very veins for the one person that ever showed him any type of love in return. He wanted so much for it to last longer, but he knew it couldn't, and it wouldn't as the beat started it's descend into the final verse.
'If I break the glass then I'll have to fly
There's no one to catch me if I take a dive
I'm scared of change and the days stay the same
The world is spinning but only in gray'
He swayed in time with the final mid-verse and then hit it hard into the final crescendo. His fingers flying across the strings, feeling the bitter sweet bite of metal bruising the pads of his fingers, as he turned, pushing his body hard with urgency into the finale, but w ith the full high strength of grace as he moved.
'Shatter me!
Somebody make me feel alive
And shatter me!'
He pushed into the final verse, jumping high one last time, landing on the bottom of his foot, his other leg up and then slowly lower back down to a stop.
He was breathing hard as if he were running a marathon, sweat dripping from his brow, he probably would have been disgusted if he hadn't felt so amazing at the moment. He took another deep breath trying to slow his breathing, his eyes still close trying to calm his fast beating heart, when he heard his name.
"Sherlock?"
He freezes.
Not even daring to open his eyes, he knew that voice anywhere. John, who had come back early, but he wasn't suppose to be here. He was suppose to be late coming in. Why? What was he back?
His heart resumed to beating as if it would burst from his chest, he slowly opened his eyes. He was terrified. He expected to see annoyance, or a horror of confusion, or even anger for making so much noise, but no what he saw nearly took his breath away.
"John? Are...Were you crying?"
Chapter 2
Summary:
The End to a New Beginning.
Notes:
So here's the last chapter. Sorry I meant to post this on Valentine's Day but work was killer so that defiantly didn't happen. Anyway here's chapter two Enjoy!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
"John? Are...Were you crying?" He said this cautiously, feeling like he was walking a very thin line. He knew that he probably shouldn't have been asking him questions but he was...nervous, so he choice to avoid everything that just happened to focus solely on John. But of course John wouldn't have it.
"Well, maybe I was you git, but that was...Jesus, that was..."
" Embarrassing ."
"No, it was.."
"Terrible, annoying, awful..."
"Beautiful."
Sherlock thought that his heart had stopped. Of course that was entirely impossible but he assumed that in some cases, like this, that the heart could
defiantly come to a full stop.
But did he, did John just say that what he had just done was beautiful?
He stood there in near shock, trying all his might to deduce to see if there may be any flaws to Johns' composure, anything to entail of him lying about him being beautiful...
No.
Not him.
His dancing, and violin playing, yes, but him physically no, never. Though he wished that he did.
He looked and observed but he saw no signs of lies or desist , no, he only saw what could be described as warmth, compassion, awe, and even...
Just like a freight train his thoughts came to an abrupt stop once again.
No.
No.
John couldn't, didn't. John just didn't love him, well, not like that at least. Not the way that he wished he would, but it was a hopeless dream that he liked to indulge in every now and again, just as he had done only moments ago.
But oh did he want him too.
He was released from his thoughts when he felt a warm hand touch his quivering hand still clutching onto the stringed instrument, and he felt the hand gently pry the violin and then bow away from him. His eyes were wide with evident shock, staring doe-eyed at his flat-mate, as he was ever so gentle, taking extra care to place the instrument back where it belonged, with all the love that he had truly never had seen from his friend before, well, again that wasn't true.
He thought that he didn't see. That he was oblivious to his friend's actions or when his 'friend' stared at him much longer than what would be deemed appropriate, but he never said a word, and he never would. He loved when John watched him, praised him, or was in general just by him. He felt lost without John, and when he was ever around he didn't feel so alone, or afraid any more, no, he felt...Alive.
When the violin was back in it's home John came back, not close, but close enough. He could see the dark under his eyes from the lack of sleep, and the exhaustion of work for ten hours every day, and the greying of his blond hair, he was beautiful in every single phrase of the word. Pure perfection.
He stood in front of him with confidence, and more warmth in his smile, that reached all the way to his eyes. His deep grey-blue eyes, and he smiled up at him.
He shook his head, turning his head away for a moment, "Oh Sherlock." He said with a chuckle.
"Why are you back early?" It was all he could think of to say, because John was so close, not close enough in his opinion, but close enough to where he could feel the warmth coming off him. He could practically feel the heat from his skin radiating off of him and he wanted so desperately at that moment to touch, to feel, just to have him closer, just to see if his skin was just as warm as he thought it was. But he stood still, so very still, trying to keep his face neutral, but John could see.
He could see how nervous Sherlock was, how lost he looked, confusion written all over his face, so he smiled at him again.
"Sherlock, I came back because I wanted to see if, well, if maybe, I don't know, if maybe you wanted to go out on a...I mean...go out and have dinner with me?"
Sherlock's mind instantly went to work on what John had just said. He watched as John shuffled his feet back and forth, looking at him then anywhere other than him, avoiding eye contact and his attire was more formal than usual. He also kept licking his lips, and his cheeks had a slight pinkish hue to them. These were all the clear signs of nervousness, he had known him long enough to know of his nervous habits whenever he exhibited them, but why would he be so nervous? This couldn't be just a night out to dinner, there had to be more to this, so why would he....
It started to become a frequent pattern now it would seem, because his thought process came to a screeching halt again as he soon began to piece together the meaning behind all of this.
John Hamish Watson was asking him out on a date.
A date between him and John.
He stood there blinking rapidly several time trying to assess and understand the situation that had just been laid before him, he just wanted to understand. He always thought, no, no always assumed that...
"Sherlock?"
….....
"Sherlock?"
….....
"Well, if you don't want to I understand. I just thought that I would ask..."
"But I thought you weren't...interested. I always assumed..."
John chuckled with a knowing smile. "That I wasn't gay. Well, you're right I'm not, but I am bisexual though, I have to say that I always assumed that you weren't interested in me either, that is, until I saw your playlist."
"My...My Playlist?" He said with utter confusion, now defiantly written all over his face. His composure and control, slowly slipping from his grasp.
"Yes, your playlist. I figured that you may have been interested in me when I saw that the name of the playlist was, 'John Makes Me Feel Alive.'" He said this crossing his arms, looking very smug but in a warm loving way, over anger, or annoyance.
Sherlock simply stood there in what could be said as absolute horror. He knew he should have put a password lock on his phone, but one, he was lazy and didn’t want to have to hassle with that, and two, because he had it with him always, so how is it that John found out, how long did he know?
"How? When?" Was all that he could manage, still dumbfounded by this new revelation.
"Well, you were in the middle of your experiment on day, and in your hast to stop a fire from starting you had left your phone on the desk. I just happen to see that you left it and went to return it when I saw that your phone hadn't turned off yet. Yes, I know I shouldn't have but I was curious and looked to see what you had up. I didn't expect anything really, but then I saw that you were updating your playlist and saw the name. That was maybe three months ago? Sorry, I know I should have said something sooner but I figured it was nothing until I saw what you did today."
Sherlock stood in shock. Three months. Three god damn months! He knew! But then how....?
"It helped me come to a decision as soon as I saw you dancing to one of the songs from the playlist. I love that song, and you knew I liked it, and the way that you were dancing.."
Sherlock blushed at this, ducking his head down to avert his eyes from his but then he felt a warm hand to his cheek lifting him back up to a glaze of ocean blue eyes.
"Was absolutely beautiful. You were beautiful." He said with a warm smile, smoothing his thumb over his cheek.
He was defiantly blushing bright pink now. 'Beautiful. He had said I was beautiful.' He thought to himself in shock. For so long he had lived in a life where no one saw him as anything but a freak or a monster, and here right in front of him was the one person in the whole world who thought otherwise.
He held back the tears that threatened to flow, swallowing to catch his breath or he knew he'd absolutely loss it.
"You, you think I'm beautiful?" He said it in a whisper afraid of the repercussions if he were wrong.
"Oh God of course I do! Jesus! I thought that you were attractive the first day I met you but you had made it very clear that you were married to your work so I never pursued."
"But John what you don't realize is you became apart of my work. Ever since you shot the Cabbie driver to save me I knew that I was in deep, but I've always been afraid."
"Afraid of what, love?" He said looking concerned, still stroking his cheek.
Sherlock unconsciously leaned into the hand. Nuzzling at the warmth that it gave off. "Afraid of falling in love. I fell in love once you see, but it didn't end well and I never tried again. I was so afraid of getting hurt like I did before so I stopped, I never tried again, I..."
"Stop." John had now place both of his hands on his face, he was so close to tears but he still refused to allow them to fall.
"You don't have to be afraid anymore. I'm here now. I've had a lot happen in the pass two years, but I finally woke up and smelled the fucking roses. You will always be safe with me here. Do you know why?"
"No, why?" He said, sniffing now.
"Because I love you, you git, and I always have. I'm sorry it took so long for me to see that." He said smiling wide.
Sherlock couldn't help it. It felt like a dam had just burst forth and everything was unleased. He lunged forward and captured John's lips to his. He was clumsy at this from the lack of practice, but he was able to gain it back quickly.
He was afraid that he had made a mistake when he felt John stiffen under him upon contact with his mouth but then he heard a soft sigh escape him, and he was kissing him back.
As the tears fell, he kissed John like it was his last day on earth, mouth open giving him everything he had, and he felt John recuperate in return. It was bloody fantastic. He's had many kisses in his life time. For a case, or for whatever he saw the need, but they never felt like this.
When people said when you met the one its like fireworks go off, well they certainly weren't exaggerating, it felt like New Years Eve when the fireworks exploded from Big Ben and The Eye, it was amazing.
When they finally came apart, they didn't stay far, pressing their foreheads together just feeling each other, breathing the other in. He hadn't realized that he had put his arms around the shorter man, with a hand cradled on the back of his head, where John had placed both of his hands in his curls, which happened to be very pleasant.
He hmmed a soft sigh as the last of the tears fell. They further apart just enough, and he felt John cleaning his face of his fallen tears with his thumb, then moving forward again kissing the tears away. He couldn't help but laugh, he was just so happy that he started to chuckle, he felt giddy, and it was a wonderful feeling to have.
"What're you laughing at?" John said starting to laugh himself.
"Sorry, it's just. I'm so happy, and I don't think I've ever felt this way before." He said laughing again.
John smiled wide and began to laugh as well. They held each other for a time, just laughing and giving sweet kisses to each other. During this time they had migrated to the sofa where they were just holding each other. John, with his arm wrapped around the slender detectives body and Sherlock holding him with his long arms, his head propped on his good shoulder, sighing in content like a very satisfied cat.
"I'm sorry." Sherlock said after a time.
John looked over to him confused. "What for, love?"
"I'm sorry for being a idiot and not telling you sooner."
"Telling me what?"
"Telling you about my feelings, and well, the dancing thing."
John chuckled lightly, which caused Sherlock to snap his head to look at him.
"No, no I'm sorry, love. I didn't mean to laugh. It's just. I've sort of knew about the dancing for a while, but as for the feelings part. Well, I guess we're both idiots then. Two big idiot s in love." He chuckled again.
Sherlock didn't though. He was shocked again. "How long?"
"How long what, Sherlock?" John saying calming down from his laughter.
"How long have you known about the dancing?" Sherlock said, very cur ious as to how he found out. He had kept it under lock and key. So how?
"I was cleaning the flat one day, and I found a bag sticking out from underneath your bed. At first I thought maybe it was your, hm well, anyway, I was curious again, and peaked inside, and found the dancing stuff. It shocked me at first but then I laughed because all the high jumps, the delicate spins, it all made sense. You were a dancer. That was probably, God, about four-five years ago." He said.
Sherlock was in defiant shock overload now. He knew for almost five years! Five years, and he never said a word. 'God I love this man.' He thought happily to himself, then started to laugh as well.
"Well, I suppose that is pretty funny." He chuckled.
John smiled and laughed with him. They fell to a comfortable silence again, until Johns phone went off. Sherlock sat up so John could get to his phone and looked at the time.
"Oh, Sherlock, um, are you still up for going out to dinner with me. I made reservations if you would like to go. If not I understand..."
Sherlock stopped his sentence by kissing him again, and pulled back.
"Idiot, of course I still wish to go. Just give me a moment to shower, and get dressed and then we can." He said going to stand. John followed stopping him before he went any further.
"Sherlock?"
"Yes?"
"Thank You, and I love you too, you git ." He smiled going up on his toes to kiss him again.
Sherlock sighed against his lips and finally pulled away.
"Moron, I love you as well." He said with a smile moving away to get ready before saying, "You know John. I could give you a private performance if you wish, but I'd like to be in my ballet attire in order to do that. Would you like that?" He said with a smirk disappearing into the bathroom.
John sighed, licking his lips at the thought of Sherlock in tights. "Yes you idiot. I would love that very much." He said mostly to himself, but Sherlock was able to catch before immersing himself away to think about everything that happened today.
He wasn't perfect, but neither was John. They had scars, and so many dark secrets that it would terrify anyone who got too close. All he knew was that he would still face dark times, but now he knew that he wouldn't have to face it alone, because now he knew, that the one person who actually cared about him, actually loved him after all.
So he danced away in his mind palace, renovating the John wing to a larger addition in order to make room for all the new adventures they would discover together.
"Somebody make me feel alive
and
Shatter Me!"
Fin.
Notes:
Hope you enjoyed it! Comments and Kudos are welcomed! Happy Late Valentine's Day!
Mojojojojlc on Chapter 1 Sun 15 Feb 2015 05:14PM UTC
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Nitpick (Guest) on Chapter 2 Tue 17 Feb 2015 11:41PM UTC
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Mojojojojlc on Chapter 2 Tue 17 Feb 2015 11:53PM UTC
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Kate (Guest) on Chapter 2 Sat 21 May 2016 01:53AM UTC
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