If You Love Me, Let Me Go

Chapter 22: Into Battle

Falling in love. It's a long way down. That's what makes it almost impossible to return.

The trip to Heathrow airport took a little longer than expected due to the never ending traffic jams that attempted to delay the city's movements. Every hour in London was rush hour, although John didn't mind. In fact, he was grateful for the extra time he had to admire the overwhelming city that had brought him so much joy over the years. And the man behind it. He arrived at his destination with plenty of time to spare before he was due to board the flight that would take him beyond the clouds and away from everything that had caused him both love and heartache over the last few years. Despite doubt gaining control over John's recent thoughts and allowing him to see that he deserved better, he still loved Sherlock dearly. He wasn't sure if he'd ever be ready to leave but he certainly couldn't think with a clear mind while they were both in the same place. That much he did know. John hadn't been prepared for anything that had happened to him during his return to London. He had achieved things that he didn't believe were possible but more than that, John had experienced happiness he wasn't aware that existed.

Without any assistance from his driver, John struggled to gather the rest of his belongings from the car before walking through the doors to the airport, turning back one last time to admire the allurement before his eyes.  The sky never failed to amaze John. It was an endless canvas that colours are tossed upon. Some days it was a pure, uninterrupted blue that stretched seamlessly across the page. When the sun rose, it was a child's painting, bright pinks and oranges piled on top of each other, reflecting off low hanging clouds that filled the world with a haze of wonder. When the fierceness of a bad tempered storm arose, the harsh glow of lightning would illuminate the gathering piles of dull grey clouds that are angrily pushing against each other. At night, the moon glowed, giving the speckle of stars a guide light. The sky was always alive, growing at each passing moment, a constant changing canvas that protected London's endless beauty and everything it had to offer to the rest of the world that would be sure to envy it. It didn't matter where John decided to go, he would always be able to see the stars and sleep easy knowing that somewhere, Sherlock could too.

"Excuse me, sir. Thank you." A petite woman with a sweet, singsong like voice spoke, catching John completely off guard as she hurried passed him wheeling a heavy trolley full of abandoned suitcases.

John glanced down at his own luggage before feeling the pit of sadness swirl in the gut of his stomach. He took a long deep breath, trying to discourage the uneasy feeling that he didn't care for and began making his way towards check in and then security. John knew how airport procedures worked by now. He had traveled around most of his life so it was no secret that nothing exciting would be happening in the next couple of hours. He began taking off his watch followed by his much loved jacket, the only one that he currently owned, ensuring to place his belongings neatly in the tray provided by the airport staff. John didn't hesitate to ask for help lifting his suitcase up before he successfully made it to the other side, without the added embarrassment of setting off the alarms. John soon redressed himself but discovered something he had missed in his jacket pocket. He slipped his hand inside before retrieving a rather small envelope. Remembering that he'd placed his ticket safely in his wallet, John reinspected the envelope, finding the handwriting on the front incredibly familiar.

Sherlock's.

"Sir, you can't stop here. You're holding up the rest of the passengers." The man holding John's suitcase spoke with an understandably strict tone.

"Right, of course. I'm sorry." John slipped the envelope back into his pocket, took back his suitcase and continued his unenthusiastic walk towards the gates.