John had always been so sad. He had his reasons, just as anyone else did. He didn't choose to be this lonely guy that almost everyone pitied. He used to be so strong and respected, to some he still was. But now, he was just sad and lonely.
When Sherlock fell...everything just collapsed. John's world just wasn't the same. He didn't believe that it ever would be the same. He had absolutely no hope for the future anymore. Sherlock hadn't just taken his life away, he had taken John's as well. Anyone could see just how empty he was, void of any emotion but sadness. His once bright and excited eyes were now dull and usually surrounded by red.
The crying never seemed to stop, even when in public his eyes stayed watery and dejected. Mrs. Hudson had tried to help him with anything he needed, it just didn't work. He would stay locked in Sherlock's room, whimpering and crying into one of Sherlock's shirts. He had been so desperate to have a piece of Sherlock with him. He would do anything to have him back.
Such a sight would leave anyone heartbroken. Just not as heartbroken as when Sherlock witnessed how much destruction he had caused. Just how much pain he had caused such a beautiful man to experience. Sherlock had never seen John so broken, so miserable.
The sight had brought tears to the detective's eyes. He hadn't been able to watch for long before he ran off. His brother knew where he was going, he was going to cry by himself. Mycroft had always been saddened by how Sherlock was more open with John than with him. He also understood why Sherlock did such a thing. He knew that he and John would always have a stronger connection and understanding of each other. Mycroft accepted that.
From that point, Sherlock hated himself for what he did to his blogger. He never expected someone to actually be upset about his death. No one had ever expressed love for him, not even his family. Not once had he been told that he was loved. The emotion was foreign to Sherlock. He had no idea how he would express such a thing. The one thing he knew was that he needed to return to John as soon as he could.
It took a couple of weeks before Sherlock was able to return to John. These were the longest weeks either had ever experienced. Sherlock was really missing his blogger and he was so ready to just be in his presence. John had been getting worse, every time he closed his eyes images of Sherlock's fall ran through his mind. In other words, he was doing pretty horribly.
Sherlock had gotten back as soon as he possibly could. At the time, John had been in Sherlock's room. Honestly, he pretty much never left that room. Only if he needed to eat or something, even if he was broken he wasn't suicidal. Sherlock had quietly walked through their flat, trying to pinpoint John's location. It didn't take long to find him, curled up in Sherlock's sheets and holding a shirt to his chest. He was just blankly staring at a wall, not even noticing a presence in the room.
Sherlock snuck over to the bed, slowly climbing in behind John. Realization struck John when he felt his back hit someone's chest. He immediately jumped, but just didn't have the strength to wrestle away from whoever it was. A hand slipped around his middle and he glanced down at the hand. He stared at it for a moment before he froze, this was a man's hand.
John turned his head only to lock eyes with Sherlock. He stared in shock and awe at who was in front of him, holding him. A sob escaped the small man, tears glistened in his eyes. Tears of joy, tears of pain. He couldn't believe his eyes. He clutched onto Sherlock with all off his might, Sherlock returned the embrace and tightened his grip on the smaller man. Sherlock held back tears as John cried into his chest.
Before long, John had fallen asleep to Sherlock stroking his hair. Sherlock smiled down at John, soon falling asleep as well. Mrs. Hudson came to check on John and found them both wrapped in each other's arms. She was shocked to see that Sherlock was back but she didn't want to disturb them. She managed to hold in her small freak out until she was out earshot.
~Time skip cause everyone needs lots of sleep at this point...apparently I also need to get some sleep but that's not gonna happen...~
John was the first to wake up. He looked up to see Sherlock's sleeping face a few inches from his own. Knowing that he wasn't just imagining Sherlock brought a small smile to his face. The smile grew when he realized that he was still wrapped in the taller man's arms.
It wasn't long before Sherlock's eyes fluttered open. John had snuggled closer in the little time he had been awake, he wanted to be as close to Sherlock as he could. Sherlock looked down at John and gave a small smile. The soft, gentle tone of the room was soon gone.
"I'm sorry, John." Sherlock was the first to speak. Even if at this point, he was almost speechless. He was still trying to make everything clear to himself.
"Why did you do it, Sherlock? Why didn't you at least tell me that you were ok? I thought that you were never coming back." John's voice had taken on a sad tone.
"I just wanted to protect you. I was tired of putting you in danger. The only thing I bring to others is pain." Sherlock looked away shamefully. John grabbed Sherlock's chin and turned it back to where he could see his face.
He slowly connected their lips, both melting into the kiss. They pull away, too soon in Sherlock's opinion. "Sherlock, I don't care about the danger. I-I...I love you, Sherlock. I knew what I was getting myself into." Sherlock's eyes widened. How did he not know this? How could he not tell that John felt this way about him?
"I love you too, John." John's face immediately lit up. He had only imagined that Sherlock would say those words to him. It never really struck him that Sherlock could feel the same. He pulled Sherlock back in for another kiss, this one lasted longer and held much more meaning.
What they didn't know was that Mrs. Hudson was standing at the door and eavesdropping. She had to calm herself from getting too excited. She slowly crept away until she could hide it from the new couple.
Yo, it's your shitty author. I didn't die, I'm just lazy. This took me way too long to write tbfh. Feel free to start messaging me about this. Just be like "Stop with your laziness and make me a chapter". Also hit me up with some prompts. Whatever you want me to write, I'll do it. Because I don't know what you guys are wanting from me. Also, this isn't edited. I'm not even gonna try anymore. I should probably go, I just noticed that my leg is bleeding...
