Tears streamed down my face as I sat with Mr Sherlock Holmes. The privilege I had of being his friend had overwhelmed me for a long while now, but today it had become too much. It wasn't like me to cry about these things, but when you have to keep your cool around death and brutality as much as I did with Sherlock, sometimes the simplest things could break you in a quiet moment.
This is what happened here - Sherlock and John hadn't had a case in a while, and I had the day off too.
On John's insistence, we had gone to a bar, and on Sherlock's insistence, we'd joined in the pub quiz. As a team, I knew no-one could beat us, we were invincible, with Sherlock's knowledge of all things academic, John's knowledge of the body, politics and some good general knowledge, and my random subjects of interest that ranged from literature to time travel to the supernatural...
As the quiz went on, John and I were slowly shoved out of Sherlock's team, as he rampaged through the answers. We didn't really care, and we would have been stupid to expect anything else, but in the quiet moments between questions, my mind started to wander as I watched my outstanding friend's brain work.
In my compromised state of tiredness and other things, I started to wonder what would happen if he ever needed me to be that clever... What would happen if he was relying on me for something, and I simply wasn't intelligent enough to help him?
I didn't handle this train of thought well, as every scenario I invented ended in Sherlock's death. I could feel tears starting to form, so I excused myself and headed outside, to the small park near the pub where I could sit on a bench and cry to myself.
After what felt like a panic-filled hour (but turned out to only be several minutes), John and Sherlock appeared in front of me, and immediately, John's arm was around me. "What's wrong?!"
"Nothing," I sniffed. "Did we win?"
"Of course," Sherlock seemed smug, but a little concerned.
I didn't expect him to be worried about me, but I couldn't let that effect me now, I was too dangerous to be around him.
"Come on, what's wrong?" John repeated, tightening his grip on my shoulders to comfort me.
"I'm okay," I glanced over to Sherlock.
John copied me, and said quickly, "Go away."
Sherlock looked stunned, "What? Why?"
"Sherlock, just please go away for two minutes."
Sherlock shrugged and did as he was told, wandering off across the park.
"Talk to me," John said once Sherlock was out of earshot.
I couldn't hold it any longer, so I spilt all my feelings out to John, and watched as his expression turned from one of confusion, to understanding, then to resolute. "Sherlock, get back here!" he shouted.
As the great detective listened like a lost puppy, I added one last thing to John, "I just don't want to lose him, y'know... I love him too much."
John nodded, and I was surprised I didn't get a more shocked reaction. Had I really been that bad at hiding it?
"Sherlock," John announced as he approached, "will you please tell our silly friend here that she's not going to get you killed?"
Sherlock looked rightfully perplexed until John began to explain.
"John, go away," Sherlock instructed, and he obeyed, but not before shooting me a look that asked 'can you handle this?' to which I nodded.
He walked away, and Sherlock watched to make sure John wasn't looking before he reached out to capture my hands in his. His crystal eyes shone mysteriously as he regarded me. He licked his lips slowly, thinking. "You're right."
My breath caught, making me feel ill. I knew it.
"You're not as intelligent as me when it comes to the things I do. That's why I do them, not you. And yes, a wrong decision could be fatal, but that's true of anyone I work with, including myself."
"You're a lot less likely to get anyone killed, Sherlock," I muttered.
"That's not true now, is it?" he asked, "If it weren't for me, you wouldn't be in any danger at all. None of us would." His thumb stroked the skin on my hand.
"I don't want to be responsible for your death Sherlock, you mean too much to me."
Sherlock sighed, "In that case, I'm going to have to be selfish, and insist that you stay."
I gave him a questioning look.
"If you don't want to be around me, or have my life in your hands because I mean too much to you-"
"I never said I didn't want to be around you..."
"But that's what would have to happen. I have to insist that you stay with me anyway, because you mean too much to me for me to let you go."
My heart could have exploded, my breath was a lump in my throat.
"I would rather risk death and have you around, than lose you today."
"S-Sherlock... I... I..." I had no words.
"Will you stay?"
I nodded and pulled him into a much-needed hug. "As long as you want me."
"You should never feel unworthy around me," he whispered, "you're here for a reason, and I need you." With that, he kissed the top of my head and I felt more at home, and at ease, in his arms than I had ever felt before. I knew Sherlock loved me now, because otherwise he would have let me go.
