John stood in his doorway looking at the man in front of him. It couldn't be him, he was dead. John saw him jump of of St. Bart's and he walked over to his still-warm corpse and took his faded pulse. He had visited his grave everyday since then but even so, here he was, standing in front of him with those cheekbones just begging to be punched.
John's fist flew up and forward, but was halted in midair by a skinnier and pale hand.
"John"
"I hate you so much right now, Sherlock" John growled, ignoring the dead man. "For all of this! YOU MADE ME ACT LIKE A FREAKING IDIOT!"
"You're still acting like an idiot, John" John breathed in a shuddery breath and fell lump into the detective's arms, glad he wasn't dead but mad he was alive.
*****
The boys were upstairs in their flat and Sherlock was sitting on the couch listening to the fimiliar sounds of John making tea and grumbling about Sherlock's hygiene. Sherlock smirked and put his hands together to form a steeple, he fingers brushing lightly against his lips. He had this all planned out like a mental checklist (actually, that's exactly what it was).
•Explain to John that he jumped to save the life of his friends.
Check.
•Tell John what he was keeping from him.
Not quite yet...
John set the steaming cup on the coffee table in front of him and sat down next to him.
"You adjusted to me rather quickly" Sherlock noted aloud. John took a sip of tea and nodded.
"Yeah well, after military train and you, one learns to adjust under any circumstances"
Good. That would make breaking this news to him a lot faster, and Sherlock needed fast to fit all his plans in one day.
"So Sherlock," Sherlock turned to look at John. "Those things you said on the rooftop. About you being fake, a magic trick and all-"
"We're lies" Sherlock finished. "But Richard Brook was real and I really did pay him"
John nodded as if he didn't hear Sherlock correctly, and Sherlock thought maybe he wasn't going to put up a fight, but then that wasn't the John Waston he knew, was it?
John stood in front of him scanning his mind for words that would express his thoughts, but there none.
"I need some air..." John said quietly. "Give me five minutes..."
Sherlock snapped his fingers and pointed at John, who gasped in surprise as a laser sight was aimed at his chest. How had he missed Moran crouching in the shadows of the flat.
"You can get some air in the car ride" Sherlock said darkly.
John swallowed.
YOU ARE READING
Liar, Liar
Fiksi PenggemarJohn was overwhelmed to discover that his only friend was still alive outside of his dreams. But should he be? Sherlock has been keeping extremely dark secrets from the soldier and John thinks just maybe he should have taken Donovan's advice and KEP...
