Think about me - A Johnlock fanfiction

2. Two doctors one detective

Sherlock's pov
John's right. There is definitely something wrong with me. Since John moved out of the flat, I started with my old habits again. I barely eat, I smoke daily and I started talking to my skull again. Which sadly doesn't reply to me. I don't know why, but it seems like I'm missing my friend deeply. It's bothering me that I don't have my doctor beside me on cases nor inside the flat. John told me that nothing was going to change between us. Which I knew wasn't true. We used to be the inseparable pair of London. Now it was just me and my skull.

As tedious as it seems. I spent a lot of the past months researching the meaning of love. The internet, books and Mrs Hudson. Everything seemed to lead to the same conclusion. I am in love with my best friend John Watson. I discovered that I have feelings for John on the wedding. Which is utterly unacceptable. I love Mary, she's a nice woman. And I don't want to break her heart. Even though John would never return those feelings. So it's not really breaking her heart if she finds out. I have many things in control, I can delete everything I want. Except everything about John Watson. So here I am, in my room with a cigarette between my forefinger and middle finger.

Tomorrow Robin will arrive. I hated to see the disappointed and hurt look on John's face when I told him about my new flat mate. I didn't want a new flat mate. I really didn't. I just wanted John back. But I need to get rid of the feelings, because seeing him happy with Mary is tearing me apart. I groaned and got out of my bed, knowing that John left when I told him to. He's always so loyal.

I walked inside the living room, noticing the plastic bag with his jumpers on the table. I smiled down at it before heading to the sofa and flinging myself down onto it. I sighed and grabbed the newspaper that was laying on the little table beside me and began reading.

The rest of the day I did nothing. I've been spending most of the time in my mind palace, hoping to wipe my feelings for John Watson away. I remember that I almost told John about my feelings on the airport. What would happened if I told him the truth? Would he hate me right now. Maybe it was mutual. I then swiftly shook my head, frowning at my thoughts. John is married, has a beautiful wife and a baby in a couple months. Of course he doesn't feel the same like I do. What I am thinking, but well. There is nothing wrong with a bit fantasy right.

Somehow my brother found out about what I feel for John. I have no idea how he found out. But he did. He didn't say much about it. He didn't even tell me that it was wrong, which was strange for my brother. Since we were kids he told me 'sentiment is a dangerous disadvantage.' He always protected me if there were feelings involved, friendship nor romantic ones. He warned me about Janine too. But I simply explained him that I don't feel anything for her. That it was for a case. What he believed without further questions.

When It was eleven o'clock, I jumped in my bed and drifted in a deep sleep. I didn't need sleep, sleep was useless and a waste of time. But since that I didn't eat for weeks. (Except some biscuits from Mrs Hudson) I felt weak so sleeping is acceptable tonight.

The next morning I woke up as I heard the doorbell ringing. I looked over at my clock and cursed under my breath. I leapt out of my bed and hastily pulled on some fresh clothes. I ruffled my hair and trotted downstairs and opened the door swiftly. I got greeted by Dr Norré. Brother of the woman who sat inside my flat yesterday. I helped her with finding who killed her husband. Somehow I came in contact with her brother. And here I am, opening the door for someone uninteresting but maybe good enough to forget John with. I put on a fake smile and spoke up.

"Dr Norré welcome." I greeted him and opened the door. Mrs Hudson was downstairs, inside the flat, peering into the hallway, curious to see who the new renter was. She disliked the idea of someone new here. But she said nothing, but I knew it. She loved John as her own son.

"Call me Robin please." He said, outstretching his hand. I reluctantly shook it and started to make my way upstairs, telling him to come along. Robin wasn't short like John. He was tall like me. He had brown hair and chocolate brown eyes. It was odd, being followed by not John. I've leaded him through the door and I looked over to him. He was scratching his chin dubiously, looking around the flat. I frowned at him, waiting on him to speak up.

"Quite small. But I can live with that." The man said. I sighed inwardly but nodded. "Do you invite a lot people here, Mr Holmes?" He asked as he took off his grey jacket and tossed it on John's armchair. And sat himself down into it.

"I am not a social man. There will only come clients here and then. I do hope that it doesn't bother you."

"Clients? Of course not." He chuckled dryly. "As long as it's quiet in the nights, I'm content." He said. "You see, I'm a workaholic. When I'm home I'd like silence." He said. I rolled my eyes when he wasn't looking. I'm already regretting my decisions. I agreed with him about the silence but obviously I was lying. I play the violin when I'm thinking. Can happen in the middle of the night. But I won't tell him this. He'll figure it out, very soon. I walked into the kitchen after I hung my coat and scarf at the coat rack and prepared tea. I looked over at Robin. And decided to ask him if he also wanted a cuppa.

"Would you like tea?" I asked friendly. Ugh I hate being friendly.

"No thank you. I don't drink tea." He said looking at me and turned his head away. So he doesn't like tea. Can it be worse? "Are that bullet holes?" He asked in shock, his eyes extremely wide.

"Um yes. Sorry about that." I apologized. Can't believe that I'm apologizing to a stranger.

"Hmm." He said. I sighed and settled myself down in my armchair, opposite of him. I was just sipping my tea, not doing anything else. I was thinking about several things when suddenly John Watson stood in the flat. He didn't even knock.

"John what are you doing here?" I asked, trying to sound irritated.

"Sherlock, friends visit each other. It's not because you never come to our house that I won't." He pointed out. "Plus i forgot my jumpers." He added and looked over at my new flatmate. "Dr..." He said, trying to remember the name but Robin interrupted him.

"Dr Norré." He said calmly.

"I'm John Watson. Sherlock's best friend. We have been sharing this flat for years." John said shaking Robin's hand firmly. Robin cocked an eyebrow, flickered his eyes briefly to mine.

"Well, pleasure to meet you."

"Likewise." John said. "So what do you think?" He asked Robin.

"Not really my style. But that doesn't really matter. I'm not much home anyways. Have a surgery to run." He said dryly.

"Your own surgery?" John blurted out.

"Yes." He responded shortly.

"That's fascinating." John said, a wide smile dancing across his lips.

"Hmmm." Robin said uninteresting and looked away. John frowned at the man, causing me to chuckle. Obviously John disliked the man. What I totally understand, because honestly I felt the same.

"John, kettle is still warm for in case you want tea." I told him gently. John nodded, smiling warmly at me and poured tea in a mug. He then walked back and looked for a place to sit. His arm chair was taken so he walked over to a wooden chair and sat down. I could see that he was feeling uncomfortable. I discreetly tugged my phone out of my pocket and started writing a text.

John, you're allowed to use your gun if you want. –SH

I've clicked on sent and two seconds later I heard John's phone. John chuckled as he read it and made eye contact with me. I flashed a smile at him, hoping that he someday discovers how much I care about him. Even though I'm doing my hardest best to delete my feelings for him. There will never be a day that I will stop loving my doctor.