A/N TRIGGER WARNING Talks of suicide. Edited 01/06/16
"You were supposed to be dead." The pain in John's voice makes my heart break. He had been drinking, and was having an emotional meltdown. I had only been back for a few months now. We haven't talked about it yet, until now.
"I know John." I felt my eyes well with tears. I hate hurting him.
"Why would you put me through that Sherlock?"
"John-"
"Don't lie to me again Sherlock. Why would you do that to me?" He threw his glass against the wall behind me. It shattered, sending glass flying into my hair. He stood there for a moment, shaking in anger.
"It wasn't supposed to be like this John." I whispered. I didn't want to anger him any more than I already had. I don't like angry John; he gets physically abusive when he is angry.
"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"
"I wasn't supposed to come back."
"You mean-"
"I wasn't supposed to survive the fall John!" The very air around us froze. He wasn't supposed to find out this way. He wasn't supposed to find out at all. He thought I had faked my death; that I had been in hiding for the past two years. I didn't want him to know that I had really jumped; that I cared about him so much that I would die to protect him.
"Sherlock-" His voice cracked. He must hate me right now. "You actually jumped?" I nodded, I couldn't look at him. I couldn't bear to see the anger in his eyes. I heard him shift, seeming to get closer to me. I felt the tears start to fall.
"You fucking idiot!" I felt his fist connect with my chin, knocking me back into the wall. I only had a moment to register what was happening, but that was more than enough. He had tears streaming down his cheeks, and he was moving closer to me again, fists clenched. My thoughts were cut short by his fist smashing into my jaw again. Pain blossomed and his fist struck again. He gripped my shirt and held me against the wall.
"Why would you do something so fucking stupid!" He shouted at me, his alcohol tainted breath washing over me. "How could you do that to yourself Sherlock?" He was whispering now, and somehow that hurt worse than anything.
"Moriarty was going to have you killed. I had no other choice. I thought I had him. I thought I had won, and then he shot himself. I didn't see it coming. I didn't want this John, I swear it." I was sobbing at this point, the memory of hearing John calling my name as I fell to my would-be death breaking what was left of my fragile heart.
"But you were dead. I felt for your pulse. You were dead." He was sobbing to, shaking against me as his grip on my shirt weakened.
"I was. Mycroft has a very skilled team of Doctors at his disposal."
"Why didn't you contact me? Why wouldn't you let me know you survived?" I didn't want to do this; I didn't want to let him know everything that really happened. I looked away, trying to avoid eye contact. It wasn't as easy as I thought it would be considering how close we were. He gripped my chin and pulled my face back to his, forcing me to look at him. "Sherlock, what happened?"
"I was comatose for almost a full year. Then I had to go through the healing process, which took another three months before I could even leave the bed. Mycroft insisted that it was for the best that you never find out." He pulled away from me and ran his hands along his face. "I hated being away from you John. I wanted more than anything to talk to you; to tell you I was alive." I hesitated, my next words barely louder than a breath. "To tell you how I feel about you." John froze, slowly turning back to face me.
"Tell me what?" He whispered, stepping closer to me, anger giving way to shock.
"I-I love you, John." I could barely hear the words myself, but I knew John heard. His whole body reacted, looking like I had punched him. "I should have told you sooner John, I know that. I planned on telling you when I returned, but you were with Mary. I couldn't do that to you, I had already hurt you so much." I buried my face in my hands and allowed the pain to flow full force. I was going to lose John now, I knew it. There is no way he would want to look at me knowing how I feel. I heard John move closer to me and I flinched, expecting the jolt of his fist connecting with my face again. Instead I felt a soft hand cupping my chin, pulling my face up to his. There was something in his eyes I wasn't expecting. There was a softness there that I hadn't seen before. Why wasn't he angry?
"Oh Sherlock, I am so sorry." That is why he wasn't angry; he pities me. "How could I have done this to you?" His fingers ran softly over the bruises that had started to form on my face. "How can you still love me when I do this to you?"
"You have never hurt me before John. You will never hurt me any more than I deserve." He shook his head, sniffling and wiping the tears from his cheeks.
"You could never do anything to deserve this. I don't deserve your love Sherlock." His voice cracked when he said my name, drawing a sob from my throat. "You are my world Sherlock; you always have been and you always will be. I have loved you from the moment I met you, and I will love you until I die." He loves me? How? Why?
"What about Mary?"
"Fuck Mary. I will leave her in an instant if it meant I could be with you." He smiled at me, his eyes brimming with an emotion that I was unfamiliar with up until now. I saw love in his eyes. I reached my hands to cup his face, my fingers trembling as they brushed his skin. He pulled my lips to his and kissed me softly, tenderly. It felt so perfect, his soft lips brushing against mine with the slightest amount of pressure. He ran his hands along my sides and pressed himself against me, his shorter frame fitting perfectly against my taller frame. I let out a soft moan and deepened the kiss, sliding my tongue along his lower lip. He chuckled in response and parted his lips slightly allowing me to explore his mouth. He tasted of booze and something so distinctly John. I didn't want this to end.
But it had to. John had to sleep off the booze, so he could be sober to talk to Mary. This would be a rough road, but as long as John was by my side, I know that I will survive.
