Promises Series

Promise of Home - Youth Without Youth

The title for this chapter is "Youth Without Youth" by Metric.

By the time Sherlock was done arguing with – and then consoling – Mrs. Hudson, the sun had set, and it was much too late to visit John. Sherlock decided to wait until the next morning. The only thing left to debate was whether or not he'd bring Julia along.

John would be angry with him, furious even. He'd probably want nothing more to do with him. Sherlock could spend the rest of his life trying to convince John to forgive him, and John might decide not to. He could show up tomorrow and be sent away. Sherlock could be an unwelcome nuisance, John could be disgusted with him, betrayed.

He was betrayed, Sherlock thought. By you.

But it was for his own good, he argued with himself. John would've died if you hadn't jumped.

He's not going to see it that way. He watched you throw yourself off a building. He's not going to get over that overnight.

Maybe John would be so overwhelmed by joy or relief and possibly forget his soul-crushing anger. He could laugh and smile and hug Sherlock and hold him close because "Christ, Sherlock, I missed you so much, and you can't leave me again, do you understand me?"

Or, John's rage could consume him and he could end up murdering Sherlock himself. That outcome was much more likely.

What would Sherlock even say?

"I'm sorry I lied about killing myself and let you believe I was dead for two years?" "Do you remember that time when I flung myself off Bart's? Yeah, that. That was all fake, and I'm not actually dead."

Sherlock couldn't imagine that going over so well. Maybe he would bring Julia along. He doubted John would try to harm him in front of a teenage girl. John was too good for that.

There was also the matter of explaining Julia. Sherlock could reason why he'd left, why he'd spent two years away from London, away from John, but housing Julia had been a decision made in haste, partly just to annoy his brother. There wasn't a real upside to having her around, but he liked her company anyway.

He picked up his violin and ran his fingertips over the wood. He half-smiled and started playing, just as well as he had two years ago.

Sherlock decided to let Julia come with him. It was probably best to get all the surprises out of the way. What if John wanted to move back in with Sherlock and saw Julia in the flat without an explanation? If he kept too much from him, John might begin to suspect Sherlock of hiding other things – which he was, but he'd tell John about those eventually. He didn't want John to worry about him. With Julia's cigarette burns and Sherlock's whiplashes, he'd go into doctor mode indefinitely. The thought almost made Sherlock chuckle.

The door unlocked, and Julia and Molly walked in, each carrying bags in both hands.

"Hey, Sherlock," Julia greeted, grinning. "Where should I put all this stuff?"

"Upstairs for now," Sherlock replied, drawing out a note.

"Thanks, that's specific," she mumbled.

Sherlock half-smiled and put his violin back in its case. "Let me take those," he said, prying the bags from Julia's hands. "Follow me."

Sherlock led them upstairs to John's old room. It was actually a bit smaller than Sherlock's, but it seemed larger. While Sherlock's room was a mess of dirty laundry and half-finished experiments, this one was stripped bare except for a wardrobe and a metal bed frame with – thank God – the mattress still there.