Mutual Pain

Chapter Nineteen

Both flats were quiet. Sebastian had taken John to dinner, knowing the both of them needed it. They needed to get away. They needed to talk. It didn't need to be said between them but they were both experiencing cold feet.

Both flats were quiet. And one was empty.

Jim stood in front of the kitchen counter, stirring his coffee delicately. Bandages still graced his side, his shirt discarded on the side of the bed. He didn't turn as the door opened, knowing well who was coming into the flat.

"Shouldn't you be in bed?" Sherlock asked, stopping at the entrance of the kitchen. Jim didn't look at him, setting aside the spoon he'd been using to stir and lifting the cup to take a sip.

"Bed is boring," came the reply finally. He finally looked back at Sherlock. "Do you want some coffee?"

"I think I'll pass. Caffeine is a notorious drug, after all," he said, stepping into the room. Jim cracked a smile at that and turned to face Sherlock fully, leaning against the counter. "I heard they weren't sure they're getting married anymore."

"I heard the same," Jim said, a mad sort of glee curving his mouth. Sherlock quirked an eyebrow, cocking his head. "Oh come on, Sherlock. You feel the same as I do. You want John."

"I want John to be happy," he responded. "And I thought you wanted the same for Sebastian."

"I do," Jim said defensively. "But I want him to be happy with me."

He looked away, lifting his cup again. The silence was the loudest Sherlock had ever encountered. He studied Jim, eyes moving over the contours of his face and chest and finally settling on the bandages that covered the stab wound that had been caused by Sherlock's brother, his own flesh and blood. He gave a tired sigh and looked down.

"Don't we deserve to be happy?"

It was spoken so softly that Sherlock wasn't even sure he'd heard it. But one look to Jim told him that he had spoken those broken words. It made something in Sherlock ache with want. He wanted to be happy, wanted John. But he knew he couldn't have either.

"We faked our deaths and hurt the men we love. We don't deserve anything but the pain we have now," he replied. Jim's head turned and deep brown met stunning blue as they locked eyes. The same feelings warred in Jim's expression as Sherlock felt in his chest. "You know I'm right, Jim."

A sigh escaped Jim's lips as he turned away.

"If you're not going to have coffee, might I make you some tea? I need to be a good host, after all," he said languidly. Though he was already moving to the kettle, anticipating Sherlock's acceptance of the gesture.

"Sebastian told me."

Jim froze. Sherlock stepped closer.

"What did he tell you?" he asked in an airy detached voice. Sherlock couldn't see his face but he could tell how tense that made him. He arched a brow, tilting his head as he looked Jim over. He was tense, body language telling him he was much more defensive than Sebastian had been.

"You know very well what I'm talking about, Jim," he said, stopping just behind him. Jim didn't move.

"Is he going to tell John?" he asked, voice low and harsh.

"No."

The grim silence that settled over the room was broken only by a loud sob coming from the criminal. His head dropped and his shoulders sagged.

"We really have lost them, haven't we?"

The words hit Sherlock like a shot to the chest. He looked away quickly. Jim was right. Why must he have been right.

"I'm afraid so," he said in a bare whisper. "We have."

Several moments passed and Jim finally straightened up. He turned to face Sherlock, a resolved expression on his face. The shift in the air made put Sherlock on edge as he looked down at Jim, trying to get a read on what he felt.

"They do deserve happiness," he finally said. "And if they give each other that, then we'll just have to be grown up and face it."

Sherlock hesitated but finally gave a nod. He knew neither of them were happy with the outcome but the happiness of Sebastian and john would come first. It always would.

"They may not be so sure of the wedding but you and I know they're the only ones that could truly make them happy," Sherlock added. "They'll get married."

Jim nodded, his jaw set. They could be adults and deal with the loves of their lives moving on. Even if it killed them. And who knew. It just might.

Jim finished off his coffee while Sherlock made tea. They moved to the living room and sat, Jim on the couch with his legs crossed primly and Sherlock on a chair with his hands steepled beneath his nose. Finally, a thought entered Sherlock's head that he almost dismissed as ludicrous.

"They'll be wanting a flat of their own," he began, breaking the companionable silence. Jim looked at him, lifting an eyebrow as he waited for Sherlock to explain further. "And I don't fancy living alone. And I know you don't either."

"Just get to the point, Sherlock," he sighed. "You know how I hate beating around the bush."

Sherlock gave him a disbelieving look but continued nonetheless.

"Would you want to move in to 221b?" he asked.

The stunned silence was something he expected. Jim narrowed his eyes at him, trying to determine if he was serious.

Move in with Sherlock? Now there was a thought! He nearly laughed out loud when he realized that the detective was indeed serious. That was one of the most ridiculous things he'd ever heard. He almost started laughing again when he realized he was seriously considering it. He must be mad. They both must be.

"Yes," he finally said. "It'd be better than living alone, that's for sure."

Things went silent again as they were each lost to their own thoughts. Sherlock could practically feel Jim's eyes on him and he looked up to meet liquid brown. He could only wonder as a moment passed between them. Things, they both knew, were going to change drastically. But, for better or worse, neither had a clue.

They were still studying -because that was what they resolved to refer to it- one another when the door to the flat opened and John and Sebastian stepped in. A smile was etched across John's face and Sebastian had that look about him. The one that screamed happiest man in the world.

"We're getting married," John said.

Sherlock and Jim faked smiles.