Goodbye, John [A Sherlock Story]

Sherlock was pacing back and forth in front of the fire, running his fingers through his raven black curls. He finally decided that enough was enough, he was finally going to confront John about the undeniable feelings that were bubbling just beneath surface. He couldn't hide it anymore, he felt like he was going to explode at any moment. Sherlock felt his heart leap in his chest as he heard the door opening, and the familiar sound of John's footsteps coming up the stairs. Sherlock was practically vibrating with anticipation.

"Sherlock!" John shouted happily, running up to the flat. He ran through the door, his cheeks flushed with excitement. Sherlock smiled fondly at his friend, a warmth spreading through his chest that was becoming increasingly familiar.

"I have something to tell you-" They both said at the same time, laughing softly. Sherlock cleared his throat,

"Uhm, you can go first."

"I'm getting married." The moment those words left John's lips, Sherlock felt his blood run cold.

"W-What?"

"I'm getting married! I proposed to Mary and she said yes!"

"Oh, well, I'm very happy for you two." Sherlock face to remained neutral, suddenly wanting nothing more than to get out of the flat.

"There's more!"

"Oh?"

"I want you to be my best man!"

"I-What?"

"Well, you're my best mate. It's only right that you're my best man. Will you do it?" Sherlock stared at John for a moment; John's eyes were shining with brightly, and his cheeks were flushed. Sherlock never saw John this happy before. More importantly, he never made John this happy before. This was happiness that only Mary could only bring to him. Sherlock forced himself to smile, nodding slowly.

"Okay, I'll do it." Suddenly, Sherlock was enveloped in a bone crushing hug from John. Slowly, Sherlock returned the embrace, relishing in the warmth of John's skin, and his scent that surrounding Sherlock. When the embrace ended, Sherlock felt cold and missed the contact instantly.

"Now what news did you have for me?" Sherlock stiffened slightly, knowing that he couldn't say a word to John. Not now, not ever.

"Oh, it's nothing important. Never mind, really." Sherlock quickly excused himself, claiming that not sleeping for the last week had finally caught up to him and he bid John good night. Slowly, Sherlock made his way up to his room. He didn't bother removing his clothing, he just went under the covers and curled into himself, sobbing into his pillow-careful not to disturb his flat mate. His chest clenched painfully, and he couldn't breath properly. It was a sadness that Sherlock never felt before, and he was terrified that his whole being was going to implode into itself. He was scared the this sadness was going to drown his from the inside out, kill him painstakingly slow. Yet, he also prayed for it to do so.

Over the next several months, Sherlock watched John prepare for the wedding. Getting happier and happier with every passing moment. Sherlock watched as he embraced Mary, planning their future together. He watched as John slowly began to pack up his belongings; as the boxes stacked up, so did the pain that had settled on his chest. Almost every night, Sherlock laid in his bed, staring at the adjacent wall. He hadn't cried since the first night, not able to find anymore tears. He felt numb, he felt empty, he felt alone.

With every passing day, it became harder and harder for Sherlock to breathe.

Then, the magical day came. John looked dashing in his fitted tux, and Mary looked beautiful in her white gown. Sherlock did all his duties as best man, he stood at John's side as John gazed into Mary's eyes, pronouncing his love for her. He gave John the rings and watched as he placed one of them on her delicate finger, and then she did the same to him. He saw the love that seemed to radiate off the newly weds, only causing the knot in his chest to grow tighter.

Sherlock made his best man speech, wishing the newly married couple nothing but the best.

Silently, Sherlock sipped his wine, watching the reception from his chair. When it was time for the John and Mary to have their first dance as husband and wife, that's when he made his move. He took the letter out of coat pocket and place it near John's plate, somewhere he was sure that John would see it. Then, oh so discreetly, he left, never to look back.

Dear John,

I am so happy for you and Mary, I truly am. But I cannot watch you and her. I can't do it. That night, when you told me about your proposal, I was planning to tell you how I truly feel about you. John, I am in love with you. Painfully so. It took me many years to realize and accept it. But I was too late. And I wasn't going to tell you when I saw how happy Mary makes you. A type of happiness that I could never give to you. When I say that I am happy for you, I truly mean it. Mary is a good woman, and I wish you two nothing but the best. I hope you two are happy. I hope you two have an amazing life, filled with nothing but joy and happiness-you both deserve it. But I can't stay. I have to leave. Seeing you with her, it breaks my heart. Despite how utterly cliché that sounds, it's the only statement that accurately describe the residing pain in my chest that never seems to go away. I am not telling you this to make you feel guilty, because you shouldn't. You're happy. That's all that matters. I'm only telling you the truth. You deserve the truth. By the time you've read this, I will be gone. I'm moving to the states, I heard their policemen are worse than Scotland Yard's men. Don't look for me. Focus on your new life with Mary. Enjoy it. Goodbye, John.

Love,

Sherlock.