Work Text:
I stared blankly down at the keyboard of my laptop as I tried to write up our latest case. This case was supposed to be easy according to Sherlock, not even a two. He only took it because he was extremely bored having no cases in the last three weeks.
The lady came to us with a case of a missing fiancé which of course Sherlock assumed was simply him being unfaithful. The lady swore up and down that it wasn’t like that, that he wouldn’t do that to her because they had been together for just over nine years and he loved her. She didn’t doubt his love for her even a tiny bit. I believed her, the way she described it made it obvious to me that it was true. Sherlock didn’t believe it even an iota, he didn’t believe in love. I pushed for him to take it though, arguing that he should take it regardless of the fact he thought it was simply cheating.
Sherlock took the case for me. I sighed as I clenched my fist above my keyboard, guilt rushing through me. For a moment the guilt turned to blinding panic, my throat closing up as I gasp for breath. The view of my keyboard disappeared and in its place came a vision of Sherlock racing down an alley in front of me, just as it happened earlier tonight. The suspect was running down the alley in front of us. We didn’t know that the suspect was leading us towards his allies. He turned the corner fast, Sherlock right on his heels turned it just as quickly, right into the waiting ambush. In reality I had been right no Sherlock’s heels, turning fast enough to knock him out of the way just as one of them shot. In my imagination I was too far away to knock Sherlock down and I turned around the corner in time to see bullets cutting through my best friend.
Warm hands on my shoulders shaking me brought me back to reality so I was starring into the worried eyes of my best friend. As soon as my eyes focused the worried look on Sherlock’s face disappeared, hidden behind his cold exterior. I gasped for breath, as I tried to stop myself from shaking.
“John. You were having a panic attack. Why?” Sherlock tilted his head, studying me carefully. I knew he didn’t understand human feelings much but this shocked me.
“Why?! Why am I having a panic attack? For a genius you are an idiot.” I yelled, pushing him away and standing up. Sherlock stumbled backwards, eyes widening. It would have been amusing had I not been so angry.
“Is this about earlier? We are both fine. Its over, we are both fine and most importantly we caught the suspect.” He murmured in confusion. It was an interesting expression and I would have found it greatly amusing, again, if I wasn’t so angry.
“Is getting the suspect all that matters to you?” I snarled at him, spinning around to stare down at him. He leaned back to stare up at me, giving me a brief nod. I scoffed. “Of course that’s all that matters to you. You don’t even care that you could have been killed… or me.” I said the last part quietly, briefly showing my pain before I put on my soldier face. I straightened my back, falling into my soldiers stance.
Sherlock stood up and stared at me. “Of course getting the suspect is all that matters. I’ve told you before sentiment is a weakness.” I stared at him before stumbling backwards into my chair. I stared at him brokenly before shaking my head and looking down, but not before seeing some hurt in his eyes.
I swallowed hard and blinked away the tears that burned my eyes. I stood up quickly and grabbed my coat on the way out the door. I couldn’t stand to be in the same flat let alone room as Sherlock.
I was in such a hurry to get out of the flat that I didn’t see Sherlock step towards my retreating back as if to stop me. I hurried into the pouring rain, pulling my coat tighter around me. I started walking, having no idea where I was going, still seeing the vision where Sherlock was killed. It stung even more now because I knew Sherlock didn’t care if he lived or died, and even more hurting was the fact he didn’t care about me either.
I don’t know how long I walked around before I ended up in the park. I dropped down onto a bench, putting me head in my hands as I tried not to cry. I swallowed hard before giving a bitter laugh. I guess I now knew what it felt like to have my heart break. I felt sick to my stomach as I finally felt tears roll down my face along with the rain.
I couldn’t believe I had let myself fall in love with the sociopathic asshole. I sat up straight, eyes widening as I realized what I had admitted to myself. I had just admitted to myself I was in love with a man, and more startling with Sherlock. I really was an idiot like Sherlock always called me.
A broken sob escaped me as I truly realized how much trouble I was in. I was in love with my best friend, my sociopathic best friend who cares nothing for me. I gave a self depreciating laugh as I buried my face in my hands. I couldn’t believe Sherlock had been able to reduce me to tears when getting shot and invalidated home hadn’t made me cry even a little. Sherlock was right, sentiments make you weak.
I’m not sure how long I sat on that bench in the rain, crying quietly while everything that had happened today replayed in my mind. The near miss that could have cost Sherlock his life, the cruel words, everything.
I sat there until I was shivering from the cold, numb down to my bones, the imaginary ache in my leg back with a vengeance along with a deep ache in my shoulder. I straightened up, looking around in hopes of finding something that would help me find where I should go next, what I should do next.
A shadow slowly approached my bench while I debated where to go. The shadow grew and lengthened until it was a tall, lean body that I instantly knew to be Sherlock. I stared at him nervously, sitting up straight, swallowing hard.
“Sherlock?” I squeaked, though I would deny it adamantly. I stared at him with wide eyes, starting to shiver even more, hard enough to make my teeth chatter. I wasn’t sure if the tremors were more from the cold or from the shock of seeing Sherlock. “What are you doing here?”
Sherlock pulled his coat tighter around himself before sitting down next to me on the bench. He looked distinctly put upon, as if I had forced him to come after me. He glanced at me before blinking in surprise. “You’ve been crying.” He stated the obvious, surprising me, something he never did.
I gave a bitter laugh before saying “No shit Sherlock. We aren’t all as cold hearted and empty as you.” I hadn’t meant to say that, I knew it wasn’t a hundred percent true. Sherlock wasn’t completely cold and I had a little coldness in my heart, I just proved it by saying what I did.
Sherlock shifted nervously before sighing and folding his hands underneath his chin, his signature thinking pose. “I shouldn’t have said what I did John. It was untrue.” He swallowed hard before nodding, having decided something. “I lied, you should know I lie…” He glanced at me, taking my hand in his before covering it with his other hand. “John, you’re freezing, lets go home.. back to the flat where you can warm up and I can explain.”
I stared at him in shock before nodding, noticing my shivering once again. I followed him numbly back towards the street where he hailed a cab. “I don’t think the driver would want me in his cab.” I murmured, indicating my soaking clothes.
Sherlock ignored that, grabbing my arm and dragging me into the cab. He ordered the driver to head towards Baker Street. He didn’t look at me the entire drive to the flat, staying silent the entire time until we arrived and he dragged me out of the cab again, throwing money at the driver.
He dragged me through the front door and up the stairs, completely ignoring Mrs. Hudson as she poked her head out of the door to see what was happening. He kept dragging until we were through the door of our flat and into the bathroom. Sherlock turned on the shower as hot as it could go before stepping away from me. “Shower, warm up, get dressed and come into the sitting room. I’ll make you some tea.”
Sherlock left the bathroom and closed the door behind him. I stood there for a moment before slowly getting undressed and climbing into the shower. The hot water stung, warming me up painfully though I welcomed it.
I stood under the hot water until I heard Sherlock knocking softly on the door. “John, are you almost done?” His voice was soft, almost hesitant. If my heart wasn’t feeling so cold and broken his hesitancy would have broken it even more.
I turned off the shower, stepping out to find my warmest pajamas sitting on the edge of the sink. I gave a small smile before frowning and sighing. Why was he trying to be so nice when he had just told me the truth not to long ago.
I dressed slowly before leaving the steaming bathroom, slipping into the sitting room where Sherlock was pacing nervously, two glasses of tea sitting on the table. When he saw me standing nervously by the bathroom door he turned to face me completely, indicating the coach where a blanket was sitting neatly on the couch cushion. “Sit down, cover up.” He murmured, stepping a little closer. I sat down and cautiously wrapped the blanket around me, watching Sherlock nervously.
He perched on the couch, folding and unfolding is hands as he looked at me. “Drink your tea.” He ordered it quietly before taking his. I took mine and sipped on it, sighing a little as the warmth slid down my throat.
I sat there quietly sipping my tea, waiting for him to say something. It wasn’t until I had finished over half my tea that he spoke again. “I’m.. I’m sorry John.” He said quietly, glancing up at me sadly. He sat there as if waiting for me to say something. I didn’t though, if he wanted me to forgive him he needed to do a lot more than that.
He swallowed hard, staring at me for a moment before starting again. “I should have never said that. You didn’t deserve that. John you know I care about you right. I care what happens to you.” I put my tea down to look at him seriously, jumping a little when he took my hands in his. “I would die for you John. I would do anything for you. I should never of said that you didn’t matter to me.” I softened a little while I looked at him, turning my hands a little to hold his hand a little.
I bit my lip nervously before giving him a small smile, forgiving him a little. He tightened his hands around mine, looking at me desperately. “I only said that because I was… I was scared. I never thought of sentiment as anything other than a weakness found on the losing side. But then you showed up and turned my world upside down. You made me start feeling things, made me care what people, well actually just you, thought of me. When I ran ahead of you tonight I was terrified, when the shot went off the only thing I thought of was you. That’s never happened to me before. On a case I never thought about anything other than the case. You make me feel John. It scares me, that’s why I was so… mean.” I bit my lip as I looked at him. “I’m sorry. Please forgive me.” His eyes were so full of pain I couldn’t help but forgive him.
“I forgive you Sherlock. I will always forgive you.” I stared at him, trying to show him how I forgave him without giving away how much I was in love with him. “You’re my best friend.”
Sherlock sighed and let go of my hands before scrubbing them over his face. “That’s not.. I want to be more than friends John.” He lowered his hands so I could see his eyes, I could see his fear. “I’m in love with you John.”
Sherlock looked at me as if I was going to hit him for saying that or simply tell him I wasn’t gay. I gave him a happy smile before cupping his cheek, leaning in slowly to press my lips against his. “Good. I love you to idiot. I’ve always loved you.”