Consulting Fangirl

Chapter 3: Mai

A/N Hello internet dwellers, how goes thee? Today I offer my greatest gratitude for your constant support. Much thanks. Very yeah. Read on! 

His eyes flickered with some emotion for a second. Confusion. Shock quickly followed it as he realized that what he was feeling was an emotion. Telling myself that he was in pain was one thing. Imagining it was worse. Seeing him, John Hamish Watson, right in front of me, was a completely different matter. Pain was not an accurate word to describe what he was going through. Agony was closer, but still didn’t even touch the level of sadness on this man’s face.

It was more than that, though. It was, rather, the deadness in his face that terrified me. To see someone with genuine surprise on their face after experiencing an emotion was heart-wrenching.

Perhaps, in a way, that was the only way to describe what John Watson was feeling. He felt dead. Gone: unable to see any light or goodness in the world after the death of his best friend. Being next to him made me incredibly guilty for feeling sad about Sherlock. How dare I cry over someone I didn’t know while people like John were grieving? If anyone had the right to sadness, it was him.

“How do you know who I am?” He asked, his voice rough and gravelly. I noticed the dark, purple bags under his eyes, signifying he had as much sleep as I did.

“I-I’m sorry. I follow your blog, and I’m a huge fan of you and-“ My voice cut off and I wanted to slap myself. The look of pain- true pain this time, not numbness- hurt my heart, and I closed my eyes.

“I’m sorry. I’m such an ass. I’ll just bring you a coffee and leave.” I turned away to hide in the kitchen in shame when I felt a hand on my wrist, pulling me back gently. I looked back and found a guilt ridden John staring at me with those doe eyes I adored.

“Don’t go. Please, stay. I need someone to talk to.” I noticed the desperation in his voice, and all thoughts of guilt or fear left me. I didn’t care that Collin would probably kill me for sitting down. I didn’t care that Katie would be jealous and I didn’t care that everything I could possibly say to him would just hurt him. Instead of worrying about these things, I sat down and faced him.

“Okay.” I whispered, looking into his tired eyes. He stared back into mine, a bit of emotion returning to his eyes. I couldn’t tell what it was, though.

“Tell me about yourself.” He said, trying to calm the shaking in his voice. “Please, I need something else to think about.” I nodded and did my best to fill the hole in his heart.

“Well, I’m Mai Evans. I’m a Tumblr addict, I love reading more than humanly possible, ice cream should be a meal in itself, according to me anyways.” He laughed. It was a pained, short laugh, but he actually laughed. I stared at him in shock for a millisecond, and he seemed shocked as well, but I quickly kept talking before he became sad again.

“I’ve always dreamed about being a writer but no one will publish my book, so I’m stuck with a dead end job in this café because I’m not good at anything but writing and blogging. I’ve been your biggest fan since A Study In Pink and I’m not afraid to admit it. I was up all night crying until my neighbor brought me some tea, and I feel like utter shit, pardon my language. Now I feel even worse seeing you because I know that everything I’m feeling doesn’t even come close to what you must be feeling, and I hate myself for that.”

He nodded slowly after my confession. Silence closed around us and I had nothing else to say. I couldn’t think of any words that could possibly fix his broken heart. There were none, I realized with a sad sort of acceptance. The only way to heal John Watson’s heart was to bring Sherlock back, which was thoroughly impossible.