Finally [Johnlock]

John's Story

Sherlock and John had an interesting day at Scotland Yard. They learned that the men who tried to poison John did indeed have plans to kill Sherlock. They were employed on behalf of a man who Sherlock caught cheating. Nothing too interesting.

Sherlock and John milled around the city for the rest of the day, taking the day off due to the strange encounter with Irene Adler. Sherlock spent most of the day inside his own mind, thinking about The Woman.

With no one to talk to, John also spent the day in his mind, trying to piece together enough to create a story about how he managed to fall in love with the infamous Sherlock Holmes. By the end of the day, when Sherlock and John were sitting at 221b, John finally felt like he had an explanation.

"Do you want to hear it?" John asked.

"Hear what?" Sherlock said, breaking his intense thinking.

"My story." John said. "Of how... I... Fell... For you."

"Oh yes, I think I would like to hear that." Sherlock said, his interest peaking.

John started with: First things first, I'm not gay. Well, at least not fully gay. Maybe 99 percent straight and 1 percent gay.

I've never been attracted to men. Never ever. Except to you.

This sounds strange, but I think I'm gay only for you. I mean that the universe has given me someone who is perfect for me-

"The universe cannot give you anything." Sherlock said.

"I'm trying to give you a compliment." John said. "Now shush."

The universe has plopped down in front of my the perfect person. It's you, Sherlock. You're absolutely perfect for me. And I would be a damn fool to ignore it just because you were a man.

So I started to develop feelings for you. I guess that would be around the time of Irene Adler when I really started to recognize my feelings. The rest of the time, I just threw a blanket over my feelings, dated other girls, because I wasn't aware that I was missing out. On you.

Then you threw yourself off of the bloody hospital. And... I didn't know what to do. My best friend had died, by suicide, and I wasn't able to tell him that I loved him.

I had to move out of 221b because there were just too many memories for me. Every time I was there, I could just picture you playing your violin, or shooting the wall, or sitting in your chair, just like you are now. But I realized that it could never happen again. So I moved away.

In the following two years, I met Mary. She was absolutely perfect in every way and helped for my dark hole and back into the light.

Now I never stopped loving you. And even if you hadn't ever come back, you really died that day, I could never stop loving you. But when I met Mary, I threw all my feelings into a box and put the lid on it.

Then you came back two years later when I was trying to propose. That was...a bit of a shock.

Sherlock laughed. "A bit of a shock?!" Sherlock said, in the midst of laughing. "We were thrown out of three restaurants from you trying to kill me!"

"Can I finish?" John said, not breaking a laugh but amused internally.

I loved Mary. And I loved you. But in the end, I chose Mary because she didn't disappear for two years leaving me to grieve in pain.

"But she did shoot me." Sherlock said.

"I was getting to that!"

Mary did shoot you. But I chose to believe in her, I chose to have a child with her, I chose to love her. When she died, it was somehow even harder than when you died. I was in so much pain, Sherlock, and I blamed you for all of it. I am so sorry for every fight we had, every time I hurt you.

But that's all in the past. I forgave you, and I'm bloody glad I did.

In those years without Mary, I almost broke. I almost snapped. I almost snapped with your death, too. I was a lot closer to snapping with your death-

Sherlock tilted his head in confusion.

"Another story for a later time." John said.

I was closer to snapping with your death because there was nobody there to help me all through it. But when Mary died, you were there, Sherlock. You were always there.

Then, sometime in those five years, I reopened the box and began to love you again. By the last two years, I was so confused by my own feelings. I realized that I had loved you, but I never said anything because I didn't know if you loved me.

Then you told me you loved me, and the rest is recent.

Sherlock was smiling to himself, a proud, happy smile.

John got up and walked over to Sherlock's chair. "Can I sit here?" John asked Sherlock.

"I'm already sitting here." Sherlock said, rather confused. "You have your chair over there." Sherlock looked into John's eyes, really looked, and figured out the puzzle. "Oh, of course you can sit here."

John sat on Sherlock's lap, and Sherlock wrapped his arms around John's waist. John tenderly touched Sherlock's face and leaned in to kiss him.

They sat, together, on Sherlock's chair, completely blocking out the rest of the world. Because right here, in this flat, it was just John and Sherlock.

--
Thank you so much for all the reads!! I am forever thankful that you took your time to read this shitty fic. The fact that the number of reads keeps going up indicates that you guys at least kinda like it.

YAY I NOW HAVE AN IDEA OF WHERE THIS STORY IS GOING! I mean, it's not a great idea, but at least I have a map now. Before it was like driving a car through a foreign town with no idea where you're going but hoping you end up in the right place.

Song: "The Ballad of Mona Lisa" by Panic! At The Disco. I'm putting this one for the sole reason that I have it currently stuck in my head.

You should totally vote if you like Harry Potter. And you should also totally comment if you like Percy Jackson.

See y'all! -Dillon