Four-Letter Defect

A Great Miscalculation

Two months, one week, and five days. That's how long it had been since Lestrade's flat-warming party, and the night Sherlock and John spent together in Sherlock's bed. It had been two months since Sherlock made up his mind that he would have John Watson if it was the last thing he ever accomplished, and so far he had made absolutely no progress. It was proving to be the most difficult puzzle he'd faced in a long time.

John had promised him he'd always be there, but how could Sherlock expect him to keep such a weighty promise when he had no foresight to see if he was able to keep said promise. Sherlock was sure it would only be a matter of time before a more enticing offer came in the form of a short blonde with a great smile and personality and John would be gone before Sherlock could say "I'll miss you", and he would do anything to prevent that. Sherlock had heard of Broken Heart Syndrome, and had never believed the phenomenon to be plausible. He knew now though if John were to leave, it would surely end him.

His meetings with Lucy were few and far between, though Sherlock began to spend less and less time in Baker Street. He needed to be away from John, needed to distance himself while he sorted this whole mess out. While he was in Baker Street, he kept to himself mostly, barely speaking to John even when they were in the same room. He could never trust his voice around John, couldn't trust himself not to blurt something out he'd soon regret, and be left with devastated and embarrassed when John up and left because of it.

Either John didn't notice Sherlock's withdrawal, or didn't care enough to comment on it. Sherlock preferred it be the former, but he could never be one hundred percent sure with John. It was something he both loved and hated about the man; He always kept him on his toes.

Eventually Sherlock ceased all communication with Lucy, not bothering to answer her texts or phone calls. He didn't see the point. John would never love him. He didn't love him when he was himself, and he didn't love him when he was trying to be accessible. For the first time in his life, Sherlock had given up. He would keep his feelings hidden and simply enjoy John's company while he still had it. He knew John wouldn't stay forever, despite what he'd said that night.

At night Sherlock rarely slept. He watched John as he slept soundlessly, curled up against him, subconsciously seeking the warmth that Sherlock's body provided. Several times Sherlock had gingerly pressed his lips against John's temple, allowing him a fleeting moment of bliss where he could pretend there was actually something between them, and that John wouldn't kick him out of his own bed should he wake up to Sherlock's lips pressed against his skin. The nights that Sherlock did sleep, he dreamed only of John. He dreamed of John in Afghanistan, in his uniform, saving some lives and taking others like the amazing army doctor he was. He dreamed of John standing by his side, in a church, in front of all their family and friends, sliding a silver ring onto his finger with shaking hands. He dreamed of John sitting in his armchair, rocking and talking to a sleeping infant wrapped in a light blue blanket. Sherlock wasn't exactly fond of children but he knew John was, and he knew John wanted kids. He would make a great father.

One night Sherlock had a dream that John got married. To a woman with blonde hair and a big smile that made John smile every time he saw it. When he woke his eyes were burning and he couldnt' breathe. There was a hollow ache in his chest that wouldn't go away. He climbed out of bed, being careful to not wake John, and went out into the living room. John came out several hours later, and thus began their daily ritual of silence and feigned contentment. John made them both coffee, and Sherlock took it wordlessly. He busied himself with his phone while John did whatever it was he did during the day.

Sherlock's dream from the previous night kept creeping back into the forefront of his mind, and each time it did Sherlock dismissed it with a sigh, forcing himself to think of other things, and not the impending heartbreak of John leaving.