Sherlock's Secret

Part 3

When Sherlock awoke he could feel the warmth of someone next to him and at first he wanted to melt into that person and enjoy the physical touch, that he wasn't able to share with anyone in the fear of being questioned. Then his brain remembered who he was, that numb man who looked at dead bodies as if they were some road kill, which meant what he was doing would make him this weak sensitive man in which he would not like to endure being judged for. He leaped out of bed startling John who had been happily curled up with Sherlock, snoring like a purring cat. Sherlock stood shaking from the sudden cold breeze steaming in from a small open window. John opened and closed his mouth as if he was a fish out of water. 

After a few moments of uncomfortable silence John stood and started putting his coat on, feeling the need for the cold November air to be on his face because it couldn't feel as cold as the look Sherlock was giving him. Sherlock looked almost ashamed that he had let himself be this weak in front of John but John being the solider he is gave a brief nod and a dull, sad and almost pathetic attempt at a smile before turning towards the door. Sherlock was staring at his feet that looked bony and blue, from the cold when he let a sentence slip that he knew he shouldn't. "Don't go." His brain was screaming at him not to be a fool but his heart was screaming to be close to John again. In the silence John let his mind run as he stood still waiting for Sherlock's next move, apparently that move was for his own coat and shoes.

1 hour later.

John and Sherlock sat in the cafe next to 221B in that familiar awkward silence as John sipped at his piping hot coffee, even though it burned as it slid down his throat he didn't know how to start the conversation so he was willing to take the risk of internal burns, while Sherlock examined the people around them. "Do you want to talk about it?" Sherlock at this point was looking at the table, while he picked at his Styrofoam cup filled with tea nervously. "Not really. You're obviously not interested in me and for good reason." 

John thought back to last night and everything that had gone through his brain and then put his hand over Sherlock's, not really knowing how else to do this. His heart working before his brain. He had never felt this way for a man before, his mind wondered again millions of questions swamping his head, this was new and terrifying but he needed Sherlock more then anything. Not even fear would stop him now as he felt Sherlock's thumb brush over his chuckles the pulsing in his brain stopped leaving only Sherlock's name etched into it. "That's not true." Sherlock's eyes went wide as his eyes went from John's hands to his face, this adorable side of Sherlock that John had never seen made him let out a small giggle as if he was 12 year old girl. 

Sherlock then pulled away and stood abruptly and the smile that had once been upon his face when John had laughed had now vanished and left was a confused child looking Sherlock as if every deduction flew right out the window into the cool air of London. When he spoke his voice was laced with sadness but he was stern because there was no time for emotion in the life of a consulting detective. "I am married to my work John. You are welcome to live at 221B with me and help me solve crimes but as for our relastionship...we are nothing more then friends. I'm sorry John." And with that he left without a goodbye. John sat for a few moments looking at the remains of a white Styrofoam cup wishing more then anything he understood the magnificent mind of Sherlock Holmes. He was brilliant but why did he push everyone away like he was just another disease that would eventually destroy everyone around him.

John climbed the stairs up to the flat to find sitting in his chair was another man that John recognised as Molly Hooper's ex boyfriend. He seemed to be laughing and eating an apple. John's body went cold as the man stood and threatened Sherlock with a smile growing across his face. He left his apple on the table and began to go to the door before turning at the last moment giving John time to hide although John was almost certain that the man was aware of him being there. "Goodbye Sherlock. Enjoy your trip." With historical laughter he left. 

John waited until he heard the front door to 221B slam shut until he came out of hiding and as he approached Sherlock he realised that Sherlock was nothing but human. He looked fearful and outraged but this only left John more intrigued. Sherlock, of course, refused to talk about it and went about his day as normal, well as normal as Sherlock could be. John decided out of respect for his flatmates earlier comment to continue admiring Sherlock from afar only hoping that one day he could be in his arms again, dreaming of brushing his finger over those check bones as there lips meet under the dull light of Sherlock's bedroom and some nights he wish Sherlock would stop talking because all John could do was watch his mouth and only wounder...why can I not be with you?