A/N Hey My Lovelies!!! StiffPansycake requested this one! I am on a roll today! lol. Sorry about all the angst....only one more angsty one after this and then I have a few cute ones lined up. Enjoy <3
It had been nearly three years since Sherlock had died, and John was finally starting to let go. He had found Mary and even convinced himself that he loved her. He was finally starting to feel happy again.
That is why, when he saw those too-familiar blue eyes and chocolate curls, it hurt more than words could describe.
"Three years, Sherlock! You let me grieve for three years!"
"I know John, I'm so s-"
"No! You don't get to say that! Not after you fucking left me like that!"
"John, please let me explain-"
"Explain! You expect me to just sit back and let you talk? No. No, you can't ask that of me."
"John please-"
"No, Sherlock! You know what? I was just starting to get over you. You shouldn't have come back."
"John-"
"It was better when you were dead." As soon as the words left his mouth John wanted to pull them back. It was the worst lie he had ever told. He didn't mean it. It was the worst thing he had ever had to go through, losing Sherlock. He watched as the man he had once loved straightened his posture and turned. It was then he knew, watching Sherlock Holmes walk away was the hardest thing he had ever experienced.
He buried his face in his hands and sobbed, his entire soul fracturing within him.
"It was better when you were dead." Those words echoed violently through Sherlock's mind as he walked away from his blogger, trying desperately to not cry.
John hated him. He said he didn't want him to come back.
This had been a mistake. Mycroft was right, he shouldn't have come back. Maybe John was right, maybe it was better when he was dead. He had to make this right.
He climbed in the car Mycroft had loaned him and told the driver to head to Bart's.
He would fix this.
John – SH
The doctor fought the urge to respond to the message. He couldn't talk to Sherlock right now, he was about to ask Mary to be his wife.
I am not expecting a response – SH
I just thought I should tell you that I am sorry – SH
I'm going to fix this John – SH
I promise – SH
It will be back to how you want it – SH
Just forget you ever saw me – SH
John felt panic rise in his throat. What was Sherlock talking about?
Goodbye John – SH
Sherlock? – JW
What are you doing? – JW
Fixing things John – SH
Where are you? – JW
It doesn't matter John – SH
Tell me, or I call your brother – JW
When he didn't get a response, he dialed Mycroft's number, barely able to contain the panic that was gripping his heart.
"Dr. Watson?"
"Mycroft, where is Sherlock?"
"Is he not with you?"
"No, please track him. I think he might be-" He couldn't bring himself to finish the sentence. He prayed he was wrong.
"He has been spotted on the rooftop of Bart's Hospital." John hung up and raced out of the restaurant, forgetting about Mary and his proposal.
He hoped he wasn't too late.
Sherlock was perched on the edge of the roof of the hospital, watching the people below. He didn't answer John's message. He was doing this for John. He was giving John the life he wanted so desperately. A life without Sherlock.
He didn't know how long he stood there for, watching his tears disappear as they fell from his eyes. He closed his eyes and leaned forward, allowing himself to fall once again.
"Sherlock!" His eyes flew open as a rough hand gripped his elbow and dragged him off the edge. He connected with the hard roof of the hospital and felt the air get knocked from his lungs. He looked up and saw John Watson, hands clenched by his sides and breathing heavily. "What the fuck are you thinking?" John was shouting, running his hands through his hair and shaking.
"John-"
"What in god's name led you to think that jumping off the fucking roof was, once again, the best plan?" Sherlock struggled to his feet, hiding his face from John.
"You said it would be better if I were dead." John froze, Sherlock could feel the pain flowing off the shorter man. Sherlock could feel the frustration building in his chest. "I am giving you what you wished for! I tried to give you what you had originally wanted by coming back, but you changed your mind. So here, I'm fulfilling your new wish!" He shouldn't be yelling, but he couldn't help it.
"You left me, for three. Fucking. Years Sherlock! Three fucking years!" John shoved Sherlock, the heels of his hands digging into his bony shoulders. "You didn't even call and tell me you were alive!"
"I couldn't! He would have had you killed!"
"One fucking word Sherlock! That's all I would have needed!" John's fist connected with Sherlock's cheekbone and he went down, falling to the ground in a broken heap. He fought the panic that rose in his chest, blinked away flashbacks of the endless beatings he had received at the hands of his various captors.
"I went to your funeral! I watched them lower your casket into the ground! I tried to kill myself Sherlock! Three fucking times!" Sherlock felt what was left of his heart shatter. Mycroft hadn't told him that. John knelt in front of Sherlock, tears staining his face as he seemed to try to settle himself.
"I lost everything when you died, and if you jump now, I swear to whoever is listening up there that I will follow you off this ledge." There was a cold determination in his voice that made Sherlock believe his words.
"I didn't mean it Sherlock. I shouldn't have said those words. Losing you was the worst thing to ever happen to me and I won't let it happen again." John was whispering now, barely able to form words amongst his sobs. Sherlock straightened and timidly pulled the shorter man in for a hug. John melted into his embrace immediately, holding him as though he was afraid he would disappear. They sat like that for a long while, not noticing the sun setting behind them.
"I'm so sorry John." Sherlock whispered finally, his voice creaky from disuse and emotions. The blogger pulled back from his embrace slightly, placing one of his hands on the side of his face.
"It is what it is." John whispered, leaning up slightly and pressing a barely-there kiss to Sherlock's lips.
This was going to be a long road to come back from. Sherlock knew that he may never get John to trust him fully again, but at least they were together again, even if it was temporary.
