Sherlock Oneshots (Mystrade/Johnlock/Mormor)

Sherlock's Speech - Johnlock

(I'm rewriting the speech, but it'll have the same essence. I still love the speech Sherlock gives obviously. It's soooo amazing)

Sherlock's P.O.V

I suppose today was meant to be special. Not special for me, of course. Special for John. And Mary. But not me.

John, for whatever reason, still wanted me to 'enjoy myself'. That's not something that I do very often, so I really didn't think I would enjoy any of it. But, somehow, despite all odds, I had a... nice time.

*

I stood in front of the bathroom mirror, brushing my teeth and tying my tie at the same time. I got toothpaste on my shirt because of course I did. Fuck.

"Fuck." I whispered. I spat in the sink and washed it down. I grabbed a tissue and scrubbed my shirt. I looked back in the mirror. It wasn't too noticeable, I supposed. I dropped to my knees, groaned, and banged my head on the sink. I buried my head in my hands. 'I don't want to do this.' That phrase repeated over and over in my head until it was all I could hear.

Up until that moment, it hadn't fully sunk in yet. I didn't want to watch John marry someone else. That... would kill me. I heard footsteps from the hallway and heard them stop outside the bathroom.

"What are you doing?" John asked cautiously. "Why is your head in the sink and your toothbrush on the floor?" He knelt beside me. "You okay?"

People don't normally ask me that. John always does. He's good. He's very good to me. He shouldn't be.

"No." I responded truthfully. John knew me too well; there was no point in lying to him anymore. He could always tell. "No. I'm not."

"Why? I mean, you don't have to tell me. It's just not often that you get like this, and I hate seeing you upset and-"

"I don't want to go." I mumbled. He was being kind. I didn't want to tell the truth, but I knew that I'd eventually have to. I'm usually so good at hiding... things. Emotions. Ugh.

"What? Why not?" He wasn't offended. He sounded like he actually wanted to know why. I looked over at him. He looked upset, but not upset at me, upset for me.

"I just... I don't like weddings."

His shoulders slumped. I'd upset him. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because today isn't about me. So, I'm going." I turned to face him and put my hand on his shoulder. "For you."

"But-"

"I'm, as you said, your best friend. I'd be a terrible best friend and best man if I didn't go. This is supposed to be 'the happiest day of your life'-" I stood, brushing myself off. John stood too, "and if you want me there, then consider it done."

I walked into the living room and grabbed my violin case. John followed me. "Are you going to tell me why you don't like weddings, or do I just have to guess?" He stood in our doorway and folded his arms.

"I'll tell you. Maybe." He rolled his eyes, and we made our way to the venue. I would tell him. Soon.

*

It was time for my speech. God, I had dreaded it so much. But I decided to look at it in a different light; I got to talk about John, which I'm very good at.

"Uh, I don't exactly know where to start this." A few chuckles. "There's a lot I could say about John, but I won't." A few more chuckles. John grinned to himself. "I honestly don't know if I deserve someone like him. John isn't necessarily the smartest." He looked up at me with raised eyebrows. I placed my hand on his shoulder reassuringly. "But I must say, I've grown not to care very much. He's by no means a fool, and is quite socially intelligent, especially compared to me." Many people laughed. "His emotional intelligence is quite a lot better than mine. But that's not very difficult." More laughs. John shook his head and smiled. "He must be smart. He is a doctor after all. Considering who he is commonly surrounded by, particularly those related to me, there's quite a lot to compete with. But in regular situations with regular people, he was usually a lot further ahead than most in the intelligence department. Intellectualism isn't the be-all and end-all, and I know that I can always rely on him. I constantly question why John is friends with me." I looked down at him. He looked into my eyes, and it was like he was staring into my soul.

I loved it.

"I don't think I'll ever find the answer." I didn't look away from John as I spoke. "But I don't rightly care. I'm just glad that he's let me stick around this long." There was silence for a moment, and I panicked. "Did I do it wrong?"

"No, you didn't. C'mere." John stood and wrapped me in a hug. I put my arms around him and pushed my face into his shoulder. We both stepped back, and he looked into my eyes again. He did that often and it always made my heart jump.

"Thank you." John whispered.

"Of course." I replied.

*

"Are you going to tell me now?" John and I went back to 221B after the reception. Mary was pregnant and went to stay with a friend. John wanted to be with me, and I certainly didn't complain. The two of us got pretty drunk, but not as drunk as the stag night.

"Uh... it'll probably make me sound like a prick." 

"Has that ever stopped you before?" We burst out into drunken laughter. We were sat beside each other on our couch. I slumped against him.

"I just... weddings are a celebration of love and it makes me think about just how lonely I am. There are not many people that are able to put up with me. Who in their right mind would marry me? It just makes me sad to see other people so happy." I took a sip of wine. "I know that's selfish and rude. Whatever. I'm allowed to be sad and-"

"I would."

I spat out another sip. "What?"

"I would. Marry you." 

I pushed my face into his neck. "Then why didn't you?"

"Didn't think you'd want to."

"Was all my staring not enough?" We both laughed again. My breath went down his neck and I felt him shiver. He was a married man now. I couldn't flirt with him anymore. "Honestly, I would've gone out with you if you'd asked."

He lifted my head up by putting his finger under my chin. He stared into my soul again. "Maybe I should've."

"Too late now." I sat up and passed him the wine bottle. "Maybe in another life."

"You do know that I love you, right?"

"I know. I love you, too. You should get to bed before you realise just how much I love you."

"I already know..." He groaned as he stood up, and made his way upstairs.

"Goodnight, John."

"Goodnight, Sherlock." He smiled softly, and we both headed to bed.

At least he knows now. 

So this is shorter than normal but I just wanted to finish something lol