Trust Issues

Out of the Frying Pan...

The day went by slow, there was nothing to do but sit there and think about things, so of course John was running through his mind how he was going to apologize. Greg was right; it would be the right thing to do. Sure Sherlock didn’t know the first thing about family commitments, and John was definitely being a diva about it, but he knew that they both would miss each other to the moon and back when John was dropped off on that dock. He wanted to end on a good note, not a teenage girl ignoring game. When diner came more men were able to get up from their makeshift beds on the floor. Even Greg was able to get to his feet, but John only knew he was leaving to give Sherlock and John more privacy. The men disappeared down the stairs, and the ones that couldn’t would be far away. John knocked quietly on the door, hearing Sherlock call ‘enter’, as he always did. John opened the door and walked into the Captain’s Quarters, where Sherlock was sitting on his desk, writing a letter or something. The fire place was burning with a new stack of logs, lighting the place up mysteriously.
“What can I do for you Mr. Watson?” Sherlock asked.
“Uh, I just wanted to apologize for getting over dramatic back there. I know you were only trying to help.” John said. A small smile broke on Sherlock’s lips as he put the quill back in the ink.
“You don’t have to apologize Mr. Watson, I assume this is a big decision for you.” Sherlock agreed. John nodded slightly. “What have you decided then?”
“I need to go back home, I can only hope you’ll take time out of your life to come visit me once in a while.” John decided. Sherlock’s smile faded completely and he looked down at his desk, as if not wanting to hear that answer.
“Mr. Watson you know how busy we are here, and as much as I’d love to visit you I don’t think I’d be able to. The other men certainly won’t be as excited, and if the boat stops here again I fear they’ll raid the town again.” Sherlock said simply.
“They’ll raid the town?” John asked with surprise.
“Not when we drop you off, but if we come back we might have to.” Sherlock said truthfully. John nodded, but he hated it. Why couldn’t life be simpler, when he could stay with his family and the person he loved?
“But I’m sure you’ll fit right back into the civilian life Mr. Watson, as long as you make sure to not tell them everything.” Sherlock assured.
“Civilian life. Even the word is boring. You know what’s waiting for me there? Rebuilding houses and an arranged marriage. How am I supposed to pretend to love someone when I know you’re sitting here all alone?” John asked.
“You both know the whole thing is an act anyway.” Sherlock pointed out.
“But usually the other person isn’t in love already.” John objected. Sherlock was going to say something, but whatever it was got stuck in his throat. He looked up at John with such a mix of emotions John didn’t know how to react.
“You, you love me?” Sherlock asked in a small, amazed voice. John gave a small smile, surprised that Sherlock hadn’t figured that out already.
“Well, ya a bit.” John shrugged. Sherlock looked very confused about how to react to that, as if he’s never heard those words before. At first John thought he was mad, or that he’d just laugh in his face, but Sherlock sat there in silence.
“That’s uh, wow, thanks.” Sherlock said quickly, his words falling over each other in a sort of panic. John rocked back and forth on his heels, looking around the room and wondering what exactly to say next. He hadn’t exactly meant to say that, it just, slipped out. Sherlock looked very emotional, his face glowing red and his foot tapping at a rapid pace.
“Well, uh, that’s all, I guess, ya.” John decided, turning towards the door.
“I love you too.” Sherlock said quickly. John froze, his hand hovering near the door handle. He turned back to see Sherlock looking ten times more scared, but there was a slight determination in his eyes. John smiled slightly, but slipped out of the door before either one could say something they would probably regret later on. He took a deep breath, thankful for the cool air to bring down his sudden spike of blushing. That didn’t help at all, now they both admitted that they were in love with each other, it wasn’t supposed to go like that. Even worse, Sherlock looked more upset about John’s leaving then John was. His heart was beating rapidly in his chest, he wanted to go back in there, but he knew if he did he’ll probably stand in the door way muttering rubbish and officially spike their relationship to mega awkward. John sighed, seeing that the deck was now empty of anyone lying around. He made his way down the wooden stairs to the dining hall, hearing the men talking from the stairs. After John got his food he went to their spot in the table, where both Greg and Moran were sitting, not eating anything and looking pretty miserable. In a hush John told them what happened, making both their faces, once miserable, light up like Christmas.
“Wait, so he actually…” Greg asked, but John raised a hand to shush him.
“Yes, you heard me,” he looked around the room for anyone else that was choosing to tune into their conversation. “Please don’t make me repeat it.”
“But Greg told me you were going back to where ever you came from.” Moran pointed out, twirling his fork in his hands and looking at John with confusion.
“It’s like I can’t avoid this at all! Yes, I am leaving soon.” John sighed, saying it like that made it sound so official. John hated himself for it, but he simply had to leave, at this point he had no choice.
“Sorry mate, didn’t want to get you all worked up.” Moran said, raising his hands defensively.
“It’s fine.” John muttered. Moran nodded, going back to halfheartedly picking at his food.
“He’s probably killing for a kiss by now.” Greg pointed out, looking up, as if he could see through the ceiling to where Sherlock probably sat, lost in thoughts.
“Last night, do you even remember that?” John asked.
“Wouldn’t forget it, but still, declaring your love isn’t just something you walk away from.” Greg said.
“Greg come on, give him a break.” Moran muttered. Greg rolled his eyes, but sat back in his chair and raised an eyebrow at John. He knew Greg was right, but he wasn’t going to see the captain again today, or at least he wouldn’t be chasing him down. If Sherlock wanted to come find him John wouldn’t walk away. John sighed, not hungry at all now. The rest of the night was filled with meaningless conversation between Greg and Moran as their one free day in a long time came to an end, everyone climbing into their bunks and falling asleep to the soft rocking of the ship.