Chapter Text
“Yes, mummy! … Yes, I do understand. You already said that twice now … I am listening! … I don’t quite see how that should be necessary. Yes, I am eating enough. … Of course I’m sure of that! I’m not an infant anymore, mummy! … No, you don’t have to worry. I’m fine! I’m telling you, I’m fine. … Mhm. Yes, sure. I see … truly devastating, yes. Of course.”
Sherlock rolled his eyes in annoyance – a gesture that seemed to come to him naturally by now. He was pacing up and down the flat in his pyjama pants and a dressing gown and was dying to end the phone call with his mother. It had been going on for what felt like two hours now and knowing his mum, it was quite likely that it had indeed been that long.
John was at the clinic and he had just finished up a case so his mum had insisted on calling him because “I barely hear something from you these days” and “It’s almost Christmas already, Sherlock!”. And the fact that it was mummy made it all the more impossible for Sherlock to refuse her wish.
A few days ago he had indeed refused her when she had asked him to go to the opera with her and his father. They wanted to watch the annual Christmas concert but he had declined, making them take his brother instead. He was paying the price for that now.
Though in his defence, he had actually been busy with a case that night and in no way had it been possible to focus on something else. And it sounded like his parents and Mycroft had had a wonderful time together anyway, so what did it matter?
“Sherlock, my dear, are you still there?”
He sighed dramatically and directed his focus back on what she was saying. “Of course I’m here, mummy. Where else should I be? You were saying?”
“Ah, yes, so as I said I met her and then we started talking a bit because we hadn’t seen each other in so long – it’s been almost ten years now, Sherlock! Can you believe it! – and she told me all about the cottage – you remember the cottage, don’t you, Sherlock? The new one she and Richard bought. I told you last time.”
“Mhm, yes.” He just hoped she would get to the point soon.
“Yes, anyway, she told me all about Grace and how she is doing now – you do remember Grace, yes, Sherlock? You used to be such good friends.”
They had indeed never been friends. He did remember Grace but that did not mean he wanted to. Grace was Margaret’s daughter from her first marriage, before she had married his uncle, Richard, and become part of the family. Sherlock hadn’t given Grace much thought but he remembered her as a boring and annoying little girl, keen on disturbing his precious scientific research. His mother – oblivious to his disinterest – continued talking.
“She used to be so shy, always followed you around when we had family gatherings! We always thought she was so impressed by you, that girl! Margaret told me she is married to another woman now, can you believe it! Her name’s Lauren and she’s from Canada and – well, that’s not important now, is it? I just can’t believe she hasn’t invited us to the wedding! We were so close but she didn’t even tell us! We’re still her family, are we not?”
He hummed, not really listening anymore.
“I just don’t understand how she could keep it all secret from us! But isn’t it wonderful, Sherlock? What with all these same-sex couples who are finally able to marry now! I’m so glad! Maybe you and John could think about it?”
What?!
Sherlock had almost completely wandered off to his mind palace again when the last sentence had suddenly registered in his brain and brought him back to the here and now with a bang. What was the mad woman talking about? Him and John what?! Marrying?! Surely that was not what she was implying. Was she saying that he and John … that they were in a relationship? A romantic relationship? She hadn’t even met John once in her life, how would she – He had to stop himself before he would hyperventilate on the spot.
“Mummy, what are you talking about?”
“What? Oh, Sherlock! Don’t tell me you didn’t listen. Again! I was just telling you that your cousin Grace –”
“Yes, I know!”, he shouted, interrupting her impatiently. “Grace has eloped with another woman and you’re devastated they didn’t inform everyone, I got it.” He had to stop himself from rolling his eyes again, vibrating with nervous energy. “What was it you said about me and … John?”
“Oh, I was just being a bit silly, I know. It’s just, I’m so happy for you, Sherlock! Finally being in a relationship with that boy and I know it’s not been that long. Thinking about marriage now would indeed be a bit fast but I just couldn’t help myself, I’m so –”
“Our relationship? What relationship? I think you’re becoming delusional!”
“Oi! That is not how you talk to your mother, Sherlock Holmes! I’m talking about you and John being a couple, of course! Mycroft told me all about it just the other night. Honestly, I’m a bit disappointed you didn’t tell me yourself but I understand it just takes some time and –”
But Sherlock had stopped listening. Mycroft. Of course it had to be bloody Mycroft who was to blame for this! Had he seriously told their parents that he and John were … that they were an item, so to speak? Why on earth would he do that?! Just to get his revenge for the opera night?
Sherlock thought that seemed a bit over the top and downright cruel of him – especially because he knew John would never think of Sherlock that way. But then again, “a bit over the top” and “cruel” were exactly the words he would use to describe his elder brother, now that he thought about it. And here he was as a result, his mother delighted that he was in a relationship that didn’t even exist.
But oh, how he wished it would! That it was all true and John his boyfriend. How often had he laid awake in the middle of the night, thinking of John’s smile, the glitter in his dark eyes that made them look like the night sky and his hand on Sherlock’s. But no matter what dream his mind conjured, it would never become reality and he had to face that.
Sherlock falling in love with anyone had been improbable to say the least but nevertheless it had happened. John falling in love with him though, now that was just impossible. So he had tried to get over this … infatuation, of his. He hadn’t really succeeded in that until now.
“Mummy, I think you might have gotten the wrong idea about me and –”
“Oh, no, you don’t! Nothing of that sort! Really, Sherlock, you don’t have to be so defensive! I’m totally okay with it, really, I’m overjoyed! You don’t have to hide this anymore. I’m just so elated you have found someone to look after you after all these years! Oh, I had almost given up hope, you know, but the right one was just waiting for you! You must be so happy!”
He swallowed heavily. He was happy, absolutely cheerful, even – though he would never admit that – to have John in his life. Their friendship was indispensable to him. Still, that’s all it was and all it ever could be. Friendship. While John valued him as a friend, as source of reliable adventure and adrenalin to fuel his addiction, that was the only role he would ever be able to fulfil and so it was the one he had to play.
“Oh, I simply need to meet him! I want to thank him, I’m sure he’s just wonderful, that John! I read the blog from time to time, you know. What do you say? You must say yes, Sherlock, you must! Why don’t you bring him along when you come down for Christmas? You are coming home for Christmas, are you not? We haven’t seen you in so long! Of course, I understand you’d want to spend your first Christmas as a couple together but really, you’re welcome to do so here!”
Sherlock wanted to explain. Wanted to explain to her how there was nothing romantic between him and John. Wanted to tell her how Mycroft must have made up that story to get his revenge for going to the Christmas concert against his will. Wanted to make clear to her that however much he loved John – was in love with him, really – John would never love him back because he was “not gay” and Sherlock was lucky to have him as a friend at all. And surely he wouldn’t like to accompany him to his parents’ home for Christmas to talk about their non-existing relationship.
He planned on gently declining the offer because they were not together but then he thought of how delighted mummy was and how she had given up hope he would ever find someone who would tolerate him enough to be in a relationship with him. And before he could help himself he heard his voice say: “Yes, of course, I’ll ask him.”
Immediately after he felt like taking John’s gun from his room and shooting himself right through his precious mind. What had he done?! Why on earth had he said that? Cold dread crept through him as he thought about explaining the matter to John. Wow would that sound? “You see, my mother thinks we’re a couple and I didn’t deny it so now we are invited for Christmas and I already pretty much said yes.” ?
He was beginning to feel ill.
That was it, he had ruined their friendship, just like that. Just because he was greedy and longed for it to be the truth.
But he had not heard his mother that happy in years. And it was just one visit. He could prove to his brother that his stupid plans were no bother to him and show mummy how well he was doing, that there was a person other than his parents out there who didn’t just like him but love him – even if that was just a ruse. A ruse, which he wished would come true.
What was he thinking! It would never come true! John would never even agree to this! He was straight and his friend, he wouldn’t be okay with pretending to be his … his … boyfriend. All he had done was ruin everything thy had built since their fateful meeting almost a year ago! Oh God …
“Sherlock? Are you still listening?”
“Hmm, sorry, what?”
He heard his mother sigh. “Oh, I really wonder how that John of yours puts up with you. I can’t wait to meet him! I was just asking if it would be alright for you to arrive on the 24th so we can spend Christmas Eve together as well? It would be easier for travel, too. But I guess you’ll have to make sure with your John … I’ll make that chocolate cake you like and we will all have a wonderful time!”
“Yeah, okay”, Sherlock answered calmly, though his mind was on fire. All he was able to process was how she had said “that John of yours” and “your John” and how he desperately wanted John to be his in every sense of the word.
What was he doing?
“Lovely! That’s just lovely! I need to tell Siger! I really hope to see you two, my dear! Well, I have to end the call now but take care of yourself! Oh, I suppose that’s John’s job now, is it?”
“Uhm, yes, I … hrm, see you”, he said faintly and threw his phone across the room as soon as she had ended the call.
Then he weakly stumbled to the sofa and flopped down on it. Panic engulfed him as he desperately opened the gates to his mind palace and tried to find a solution for this personal hell he had just created for himself.