Tall Buildings and Pill Bottles - A Johnlock Story

Better Day?

I bustled around London, trying to shake the hurt, anger, and guilt out of my mind. We'd both said some horrendous things that neither of us had really meant. Sherlock had said some particularly nasty things about me, and but I had fired back with the one thing I'd sworn never to do, to tell Sherlock to be normal. I walked through the streets, tears falling freely down my cheeks. I loved him so much, how could I do this, Oh God, how could I have said that?

Most likely because it was the furthest thing from the truth, and Sherlock had once said that the quickest way to hurt someone was to tell them a lie that they had already believed. He believed himself to be a freak, and that he needed to act normal, but god no, I fell in love with him, just as he is, perfect. He isn't a freak, he doesn't need to be any different than he is, but God, I had told him to act normal.

Snow fell thickly, the wind blowing harshly. I, in the heat of the moment, hadn't grabbed a warm enough coat, instead I had a moderate coat that was no where near equipped for this weather. It was the one I had had on earlier, when I went shopping. I felt the biting cold seeping into my bones, and after a while, decided to return back home. 

I realized that Sherlock and I probably wouldn't be sleeping in the same bed tonight, and I almost had to choke back a sob. I  love Sherlock, and I was absolutely atrocious to him today. I just hope Sherlock can find it within himself to forgive me. I don't know why he would though. What I'd said was unforgivable.

I heard silence when I first opened the door to the flat. I sighed sadly, and climbed the stairs reluctantly. I opened the door, and froze. Sherlock stood there, with his violin, poised at the ready. Before I could even ask, or apologize, or say anything for the matter, Sherlock began playing a hauntingly beautiful song.

I instantly recognized it, All of Me, by John Legend, their first dance as a couple. (AN: Listen to Daniel Jang's violin cover, that's what this is, plus it's adorable) Tears welled up in my eyes and I dropped my phone. The rendition was both low and high, bittersweet and forgiving. Sherlock focused his eyes on me when the chorus came, silently telling me everything I needed to know.

I was forgiven, he still loved me, he was sorry too. I sank to his knees, sobbing with emotion and relief. Sherlock, still playing, came and knelt in front of me as he finished out the song. Tears were spilling over his eyes too. The song finally rang out its last note, and Sherlock gingerly set the violin down beside me.

"I love you, Sherlock, I am so sorry, I didn't mean it, not a single word of it," I choked out, tears still running down my cheeks. Sherlock gathered me in his arms. "I love you too darling, I forgive you, and I'm sorry too. We both said some pretty awful stuff, I love you John Watson, I do. All of you, all your perfect imperfections." He whispered into my ear as we held each other, holding so tight, as not to let one another slip through our arms.

I chuckled and began to quietly hum the chorus and Sherlock joined in quietly, growing louder until we were singing to each other. When we had finished, I carefully placed my  lips on Sherlocks, cupping his face. Our tears mixed together until neither of us could tell who's tears were who's. his hands were graced on my chest, gripping my shirt and pulling me closer.

I had been wrong, neither of us slept on the couch, instead we slept wrapped up in arms. Legs intertwined, hands laced together, foreheads touching. The words of our argument still singed the air, but neither of us were willing to let it ruin us. We weren't completely fine, I knew that, but we would be okay. He'd decided to forgive me, no matter how long it would take, and how, or why, I didn't know, but I couldn't help but hold him tightly, sure he would wake back up and change his mind. I wouldn't blame him if he did.

Sherlocks POV

I woke up wrapped in Johns warm embrace, my head burrowed into his chest. I felt myself smile sadly, remembering yesterday's events. I didn't blame him for lashing out, after what I'd said. He'd previously told me about how he'd kind of run out of Harry's life when her drinking got out of control, and violent. He'd always felt bad about that, and what I'd said emphasized it.