How Could You? (A Johnlock Fanfic)

I'm sorry, John

Sherlock's POV

After a long and painful cab ride home, we finally made it to 221B Baker street, and back to Mrs Hudson. I knocked on the door twice - I had lost my key whilst dismantling Moriarty's network - and a startled Mrs Hudson came to the door. She stood there for a few seconds as she took in my bloodied face, Johns tired eyes and the general fact that we were both stood before her.

"S-sherlock?" her voice was surprisingly calm, with only a small stutter as she said my name.

"I'm back, Mrs H."

She clasped her hand over her mouth and let us inside. After whispering a feeble excuse to make herself a cup of tea to calm down, I gently took John by the hand and led him upstairs. He hadn't spoken a word since we got in the cab, and after a quick glance up and down I could see just how much he had suffered whilst I was away, only to then be confronted by me in front of the entire police force. We reached the top of the stairs and entered the flat, breathing in the familiar scent of home. Hanging up our jackets and then taking a seat in the living room, I watched John lowering himself into his chair, a frown forming as he sat down. Oh, how I missed that frown, and his smile, and all the different things he said I was when I did my deductions; fantastic, extraordinary, amazing. I was just thinking about our first few cases when he began to speak.

John's POV

"Why did you do it?" I watched as Sherlock lifted his gorgeous blue-green eyes to look at me with a puzzled expression, cup of tea pausing just before they reached his cupid bow lips. I could feel his intense gaze even after I looked down at my own mug. He took a deep breath.

"First of all John. When I first thought up this plan, I didn't know I was going to fake my own death. I went up there, knowing that I was going to be killed at the hands of Moriarty, and I welcomed it, for I knew I would save you in the process," he took a moment to monitor my reaction before continuing, "when Moriarty shot himself, I didn't know what to do. I knew he had trained assassins pointing guns at you, Lestrade and Mrs Hudson, and I couldn't risk you all dying. After all, what life is worth three? So I devised a plan. I'd simply jump, smash through the window of St Bart's and Molly would lay out a body that looked exactly the same as mine. This next bit may be a bit awful. I watched from the Window of Bart's as you ran towards 'my' body, protesting to the crowd that you were my friend. John, you mean so much more to me than that. For a few weeks I was allowed by my brother to adjust to being 'dead'; I watched you pour your heart and soul out over my grave, but I just couldn't do anything. I was then pulled away for the next two years. During that time I dismantled Moriarty's network, his web, just so that I could keep you safe." he stopped for a minute when he realised I was crying, but soon carried on with his explanation.

"I put up with torture, abuse, nearly dying so many times. At one point I just thought, John thinks I'm dead anyway, what harm would it do if I actually did it? Unfortunately, my captors weren't willing to go that far, and they stopped me before I could do any real damage. Eventually I got free, and returned to London after saving you behind your back; at this point you had Mary. I watched a few dates, wondering if this one will last as long as the others did, but no, they lasted longer. At that point I knew that I had to come home, because the one man I fell in love with, and suffered torture to save, had moved on, and loved someone else. He would never love me too." 

I sighed, "If only you'd've come back sooner, Sherlock. I went out with Mary because I thought you were dead. She stopped me from killing myself so I could be with you. I loved you Sherlock.. No, I love you. I told your grave, over and over again, 'please don't be dead Sherlock, for me' and now here you are, telling me you love me after finally returning," He was crying now, "I sat by your grave I don't know how many times with a gun in my mouth. If it hadn't been for Lestrade finding me when he did, I'd be dead, and no one would've known till the morning. Do you know what my note said, hm? It said 'For my Sherlock. You didn't come back, so I'm coming to you.'  I was ready to kill myself because I bloody love you Sherlock!"

Sherlock's POV

I can't believe all the pain I put John through. I can't believe he nearly killed himself because I wasn't there. I can't believe he just told me he loves me. For all of a minute, the only coherent though I could gather was 'John loves me'. Finally coming to my senses, I leapt up like a tiger ready to pounce on his prey, and ran towards John's chair. I looked him in the eye for a few  seconds and then I leaned in and gently toughed my cupid bow lips to his soft pink ones. It took me a few moments of pure euphoria to realise that John had put his hands around my neck, and was passionately kissing me back. I never thought I'd be one for tasting another person, but everything changes when it comes to John, he is the exception. A crash of a tray and teacups brought me back to the real world, and I spun around to see Mrs Hudson standing there with a bemused expression.

"Well it's about bloody time you two!"