A/N Hey My Lovelies!!! So in this one, it's before John and Mary's wedding and Sherlock calls an old friend of John's for some advice. It's a bit angsty so be warned....Enjoy<3
Sherlock bounced his knee anxiously, chewing on his lip and spinning his coffee mug between his hands. He glanced out the window, silently asking himself if he should run. Call the whole thing off and just bail.
"Mr. Holmes?" Sherlock looked up and felt his chest tighten.
"Major Sholto." He stood, shaking the hand of the scarred man before motioning for him to sit. Once they were seated, an uncomfortable silence fell over them.
"What can I help you with Mr. Holmes?"
"How did you do it?"
"Do what?"
"Love John Watson?" The man before him froze, a look of understanding taking over his face. He smiled uncertainly at Sherlock, leaning forward and resting his chin on his hand.
"It's hard not to love John Watson." He stated simply, his eyes softening at the memories he held of the former soldier. "He has a habit of breaking down your walls doesn't he?" Sherlock nodded, sniffling as he glared at his coffee.
"When did you know?" Sholto asked, his question pulled unwanted emotions from Sherlock's mind, tears starting to prick at the backs of his eyes.
"The day after we met."
"You never told him?"
"Neither did you." A sadness filled Sholto's eyes. He was hurting as much as Sherlock. "How did you love him for so long?"
"Painfully." Sherlock took a shaky breath, nodding as he caught the eyes of the man John loved first. "John loves you too." Sherlock couldn't contain the sob that wracked his chest.
"No he doesn't."
"I've seen how he looks at you. That look used to be directed at me." Sherlock wiped his eyes as tears started to fall.
"He chose her." His voice cracked under the weight of his words.
"There is still time. His wedding doesn't start for another hour-"
"It's too late."
"It's never too late Mr. Holmes."
"Yes it is!"
"Why?"
"Because he chose her! He doesn't want me!"
"S-Sherlock?" John Watson stood mere feet from the two men, dressed in his tuxedo. His eyes were wide and confused and he was breathing shakily. Sherlock stood, straightening his own tux and trying to blink away the tears.
"John I-I didn't- you weren't supposed to- I'm sorry-" Sholto stood, patting Sherlock on the shoulder before leaving.
They stood for a long while, John struggling for breath and Sherlock trying to fight the tears that still fell. "J-John I-"
"No." John stopped him. Shaking his head and holding up a finger, silencing the detective. "No. Not here. Not here. Outside." He turned and stalked away, every bit the soldier that Sherlock had fallen so hard for.
They walked for a while, John's steps quick and angry while Sherlock's fell soft and scared.
Sherlock followed John into a near empty park, tears still falling.
John stopped, not facing Sherlock. His fists clenched and un-clenched by his side and his shoulders trembled.
"I chose her?" John's voice was low, dark and shaky, and Sherlock was filled with a sense of dread. "I fucking chose her?" The shorter man turned on his heel, his face flushed and twisted in anger and hurt.
"J-John-"
"No! No Sherlock! You can't fucking do this! How dare you say that!"
"John please-" Sherlock's chest flared in pain when he noticed the tears that had started to fall from John's eyes.
"I fucking waited for you!" John stepped forward, pushing Sherlock back with a rough shove. "I waited for three years! Since the day we met, I waited for you. Then you fucking left me! You left and I had nothing!" Sherlock's heart was in pieces when John stopped talking, dropping his head in his hands and sobbing. Sherlock wanted nothing more than to take him in his arms and hold him. To tell him he was sorry, that it was going to be alright.
"J-John, I-I-"
"I didn't chose her Sherlock. You chose for me." John whispered, the words echoing through Sherlock's skull and ruining what was left of his already broken heart.
"I-I thought it was what you wanted." He whispered, his words barely heard over John's sobs. "I-I thought you loved her-"
"I do love her! That's what makes this so much worse!" John looked up at Sherlock, his eyes red and swollen with tears. "I spent so long waiting for you that when I found Mary I thought- I thought-" He took a deep, shaky breath, straightening his posture and wiping the tears from his face. "I would have waited for you, if you had just told me you were- if I had known you would come back. Now I-" Sherlock nodded, stepping closer to John and looking down at the broken man in front of him.
"I understand John. You've got to marry her. My time to be with you has passed. Go be with your love, John. I will stand with you and support you both, if you will let me. I will stay by your side and be your friend until you will no longer have me. Just please don't leave me." There were fresh tears on John's face and he blinked rapidly, shaking his head and wrapping his arms around Sherlock. Sherlock returned the embrace, feeling John crying into his chest as he held his best friend tight.
"No. No, I'm not losing you again."
"But John-"
"No. I waited too long for this Sherlock. I can't- I won't let you just brush this aside like it never happened."
"But Mary-"
"I'll figure it out."
"No, its not-"
"Sherlock-"
"She's pregnant John." He watched as John's face fell and he stepped back. "I'm sorry. That's why I didn't want you to know." John rubbed his hands over his face, fighting an internal war that Sherlock knew would bring about the end of this moment.
"We- we'll figure it out. Maybe- maybe shared custody."
"No John."
"Sherlock!" John gripped the detective's shoulders, his grip bruising as he shook the taller man. "I'm not letting you go again. I swear to you, I will fix this." Sherlock nodded, letting John pull him in for another hug.
In the distance, John saw the distantly familiar form of Major Sholto, still watching over the memory of his Captain.
Sholto saw the heaviness leave John Watson, suddenly very glad he had called the man to the coffee shop.
He hadn't wanted Sherlock Holmes to make the same mistakes he did. For loving John Watson may be the hardest thing he had ever done, but for the Great Detective, it could very well be the best.
