Johnlock Fluff (mostly) Oneshots

Why Doesn't It Hurt?

Hey guys, I finally updated something. A few things before this chapter - 1. I'm sorry for going so long over Christmas, my mum, step dad, and brother had Covid so I wasn't really in the mood to write, and then recently I've had an important English assessment to revise for which I finished on the 19th of January which I think I fucked up. 2. Thank you guys so much for 35k reads, I really can't believe it! 3. Thank you guys so much for being so patient with me and my varied writing schedule. Anyway, this story is kinda based off of a rant I had at my friend about my ex so ya that's fun lmao. I kinda just made Rosie unexist in this one bcs I don't like her very much. 

John's POV
Tears ran down my face as I stood in the middle of 221B's living room with my best friend and the hallucination of my dead wife. Why didn't it hurt? It should hurt. Sherlock stood hesitantly and pulled me into a hug, and I was so desperate for comfort that I rested my head on his chest and wound my arms around him tightly.

We simply stood there together in silence apart from my sobs which were slowly dying out. Why didn't it hurt?

Well it did hurt, but not in the way it should. I should be hurting for her death. I should be mourning her. I should have felt more.

"Why doesn't it hurt?" I asked Sherlock. "It should hurt more than this."

"What do you mean?" He asked.

"Since Mary died, I should have been in pain. I should miss her. I should want her back. I don't know if I even loved her anymore. The only sadness I feel is the fact that I blame myself, the knowledge that it was my fault." My voice was slightly muffled by his shoulder, but he still understood what I said.

"I'm sure you are just in shock from her death. Once the shock wears off, I'm sure you will-"

"No, that's not it. I'm not sure I ever loved her."

"Why not? You married her; you forgave her after she shot me."

"And I'll never forgive myself for either of those things. I think I loved the idea of her, not her as a person." I pulled back slightly to look up at Sherlock, trying to avoid eye contact with him. I knew if I did, I would give away my secret. "It, it scares me, Sherlock. I don't like to admit it, but it does. What if there's just something wrong with me?"

"There's nothing wrong with you, John. You're perfect."

"No I'm not."

"Yes, you are. You're perfect in every way, trust me."

I couldn't stop more tears from slipping down my face at his words, but I couldn't bring myself to believe him. How perfect could I be if I married someone else while being in love with my best friend? God, Sherlock was so perfect while I was the worst.

After some consideration, I pulled away from our prolonged embrace and finally got the courage to look into his eyes. He smiled softly, if not painfully, at me.

"Are you okay?" He asked me gently. I huffed out an empty laugh.

"I don't know. I really don't, but I have to do this. I don't really have much left to lose, so here we go I guess." Sherlock looked confused at my words but listened in silence for what I had to say. "I think the reason I didn't love Mary is because I never let go of you. You died before I got the chance to tell you I love you, which is what I'm doing now, by the way, and those feelings never went away, so when I tried to convince myself I loved Mary, I couldn't do it, just because I still loved you."

Sherlock's eyes widened and he opened his mouth to say something, but before he could, I cut him off.

"Don't say anything if you don't want to. If this makes you uncomfortable, then I am happy to leave. I just wanted you to know."

"John, I don't, love, I mean. Don't, please." He seemed to have trouble forming words, probably from shock, which was understandable. What I got from what he was saying, though, was that he didn't love me back. This was what I was expecting, but it still hurt nonetheless.

I turned to leave, but Sherlock's hand grabbed my wrist and pulled me backwards.

Sherlock's POV
"...I still loved you." John finished talking. My mind was going a hundred miles an hour, trying to keep up with processing this information. John Watson, My Perfect John Watson, loved me? I had loved him for years and he finally confessed that the feeling was mutual.

I opened my mouth to try and say something, but I was speechless. John then began talking again, something about leaving and me being uncomfortable.

No he can't leave again, I only just got him back!

"John, I don't want you to leave, I love you too." I admitted. Well, that's what I tried to say. However, judging by the disappointed look on John's face, the words came out wrong. We stood there in silence for a few seconds before he turned to leave.

No make him stay, please! I don't want to be alone again, and I don't want him to be alone again!

At this point, my brain was screaming at my body to do something to get John back, and for one of the very few times in my life, I let my heart rule my head, and I grabbed John's arm and pulled him back into a hug.

Now that my heart had control over my brain, I could finally tell John what I wanted to say.

"I love you too, please don't leave me again. I can't take losing you again."

"Okay, I'll never leave, I promise." He whispered back to me; his voice full of emotion. I could tell he meant it.

"Good."

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That was pretty much all dialogue I'm so sorry, and the ending was kinda rough lmao, but it is gone midnight in my defense, so oh well. I hope yall enjoyed it, I have another chapter I'm writing which I hope to update soon. Thanks for reading <3