Falling For You

Liar?

John sat in his armchair waiting for Sherlock to burst dramatically through the door. He had let the madness go on for two more days after their pleasant snogging session, but enough was enough. He had to talk to Sherlock about everything before it was too late and he was in too deep. If he kept going, he knew that his feelings for Sherlock would explode and he'd never be able to recover. Sure enough, Sherlock threw open the door and smiled at John.

"That was tedious," Sherlock beamed. John tried to smile, but he couldn't keep lying to Sherlock like he was fine when he knew the truth. Sherlock, because he was a genius, saw this straight away. He went over to John, softly creeping across the floor, and tried to kiss him but John shoved him off. Sherlock knew immediately that something was wrong.

"Sit down, Sherlock. We need to... we need to talk," John said, trying to manage his way to the end of the sentence. Sherlock nodded, his heart already falling to pieces. he tried to remain calm. Surely John wasn't happy with him. Sherlock wondered if he wasn't good enough. If he wasn't experienced at the kissing. He felt so incompetent, but he sat down in his black leather seat and stared across at his timid doctor love.

"We're not going to have one of those heart to heart conversations, are we?" Sherlock wondered.

John shook his head. The anger was already building up inside of him. "No," he replied.

Sherlock tried to act cooly. "Good. I'm sure I wouldn't be very good at one of those," he chuckled. But John knew he was fake laughing, so Sherlock stopped and his usual solemn look reappeared on his face.

"Sherlock, I..." John ran his fingers through his hair, trying to figure how to say the words he didn't want to say but knew he had to. "When Moriarty took me, I woke up and you were there. And I heard what you said to him about pretending."

Sherlock's face resembled the face he made when he was proved wrong. He was in total shock. He thought that John had been knocked out when he said that or he wouldn't have said it in the first place. He wouldn't have said anything if he knew that John had been able to hear him. His heart was pounding in his chest with the thought that he had slipped up so bad, but he decided that he would remain calm and try to fix this mess. He could tell John that he loved him because then John would realize that he really cared about him.

"Let me explain," Sherlock begged. But John wouldn't give him the chance. He was over Sherlock lies and Sherlock digging himself out of every situation. John had to say everything he had said to himself in the mirror that morning as he prepared himself for the speech that would either make him or break him.

"No. Not this time, Sherlock. This time I'm doing the talking. I heard you tell Moriarty that you were pretending to... Jesus, I can't even say it. Just... just tell me if that's true, Sherlock. Just tell me if you meant what you said that day," he begged.

Just then, Sherlock's phone buzzed. He dug it out of his pocket.

Liar? -JM

Sherlock's heart stopped. He couldn't let John find out that Moriarty was coming for him. He loved John. He looked up from his phone and saw the only man, the only person that he would ever love, and he turned his head. He would have to let him go to save him. It was such a sacrifice, but if he wanted John to be safe from Moriarty, so he had to lie one last time. The biggest lie of all. The lie that would break him. Sherlock took a deep breath. He tried to act like he didn't care when really, John was his whole world.

"It's true. Every word," Sherlock lied, his robotic voice returning.

In that moment, Sherlock believed that he would never kiss another person ever again. He had his first and last kiss with John Hamish Watson, and knowing that he could have kissed him again but he couldn't absolutely killed him. He could have told John the truth, but it wasn't about Sherlock anymore. It was about what was best for John, and he had to put his love first, even though it pained him to do so.

John jumped to his feet. "That's it. Sherlock, out of all of the horrible things you've done, that you've made me do, this has been the worst. I... I can't believe you would do this to me. I just can't," John said, his breath shaking and his hands quivering in fear and sadness. Sherlock looked straight at John and convinced himself that he could finish this off.

"I'm sorry," he shrugged nonchalantly.

John rolled his eyes and started to walk away, thinking that it would all go away if he refused to accept it, but he knew that wasn't how things worked. So, he turned back to Sherlock, the man he was sure he would never stop loving, and bit his lip to stop the tears from rolling down.

"I'm leaving. I'm going to bed and then tomorrow I'm leaving. And I don't want to talk to you. Don't talk to me again, do you understand? This time you've gone too far, Sherlock. Way too far."

And with that, John Watson stomped up the stairs to the room he hadn't slept in since Sherlock's fake death two years ago. He collapsed onto his bed and started crying, not even bothering to close his door. At the same time, Sherlock was trying to figure out why he was crying. He didn't cry often, and the only times tears had painted his face was because of John Watson. Sherlock thought he could apologize, so he went up the stairs and stood in John's doorway, watching him sob. Sherlock sobbed right along with him, but then he went down to his room and locked the door.