Clique of 221B

Chapter 15: John

Sherlock leans back a little, shocked at seeing Mary again. Mrs Hudson places her hand over Sherlock's and you stand closer to him. Your phone buzzes again.
"So, this is in case..." She smiles awkwardly at you all from the screen.
"-in case the day comes. If you are watching this, I'm...probably dead. I hope I can have an ordinary life, but who knows? Nothing's certain, nothing's written. My old life – it was full of consequences." She smiles slightly. "The danger was the fun part, but you can't outrun that forever. You need to remember that, so... I'm giving you a case, Sherlock." He leans forward slowly. "Might be the hardest case of your career. When I'm... gone – if I'm gone – I need you to do something for me." Your phone buzzes yet again. You slip out the door and phone him.
"Hi, is everything alright, Mycroft?"
"John is asking for you." He answers.
"Did he ask you?" You say, surprised, John's not the kind to ask for help, let alone from Mycroft.
"No but he needs help looking after Rosie, and I believe you would be best."
"I'll be over there in a bit. Then afterwards, are you busy?"
"When you've finished text me and I'll send you a car."
"Okay. Bye."
"Goodbye." You hang up and walk back in the room. You hear Mary's recording still being played,
"Save John Watson. Save him. Save him, Sherlock. Save him." It ends and you tell them you're off to see John. You walk down the stairs and out the front door. One of Mycroft's cars is waiting for you. You get in and it sets off.

You make a cup of tea for John, and after feeding Rosie you begin to rock her to sleep. John is stood in the doorway of her nursery, watching as you place her down in her crib. John sighs,
"Thank you."
"It's fine." You both sit down in the front room. It seems so empty. It's ridiculous. But it does. John's hand shakes as he puts his cup down. You take his hand and squeeze it lightly, "It's okay, John."
"No it's not. It'll never be okay. Rosie needs her mother."
"But she's got you. And me, Molly and Mrs Hudson." You don't mention Sherlock. He seems like a sore point at the moment. "John I know it's hard. Believe me, I know. But you have Rosie. And it will get better. Not all day. Or everyday. But it will. You have to think of all the things to look forward to. Please. If not for yourself. For Rosie. You've got her first words, steps, her first day of school. She's going to make friends, enjoy things, dislike things, get hobbies. She's going to be happy."
"And Mary will miss all of it."
"Yes. She will. But if you're too busy thinking about what Mary is missing you'll miss it too." You are both silent for some time before John asks you,
"When you said, that you knew what it was like, what did you mean?"
"I meant exactly what I said." He pauses,
"Oh. What happened?" You look up at him. "Sorry. I shouldn't have said anything."
"No. It's-its okay. I'm fine. Uh, it was five years ago and I was working as a British representative in the Irish Government. There was a man who I worked with there. We were inseparable and... well it was perfect. He was my entire life. We couldn't have any relationship other than professional, but we didn't care. We were actually engaged not long before it happened." You take a shaky breath as John tightens his hold on your hand "I... I decrypted an enemy message regarding a terrorist attack on a huge number of political figures at a top secret location. I told them and they evacuated the building but my boss was held hostage, I was all set to go in for him but they wouldn't let me. My fiancé ran in and before I could even go in after him, the building blew up." You hadn't realised you'd been crying until John hands you a tissue. You smile at him, "Thanks."
"If you ever need anything-" John starts.
"John. It was five years ago. You're the priority now."
"You're clearly still upset about it though."
"Of course I am. But it does get better. I promise." As you mop up the rest of your tears you hear Rosie crying, you stand up straight away. John gets up too,
"I'll go." He says.
"Okay." He goes up the stairs and heads towards Rosie's room. You hear the door open and John walk to her crib. After awhile you decide to go up as well. You stand at the doorway looking at John as he rocks Rosie back to sleep. She quietens down quicker with John than she did with me. That's good. Hopefully she won't be too difficult for her Dad. He sits down in the armchair next to her crib. He keeps her close, in his arms. "Will you be okay tonight?" You whisper to him. He pulls his gaze away from his daughter and nods,
"Yeah."
"If you need anything just call, okay? Me. Or Molly. Or someone. Alright?"
"Yeah."
"I'll see you later. Okay?"
"Okay. Bye." He smiles at me.
"Bye."
"I'll lock myself out. You stay here with Rosie."
"Thank you, for everything." You walk down the stairs and out the house. You pick up your phone and text Mycroft. You're not stood waiting for long but you're soon shivering from the cold. When the car pulls up you get inside straight away. Mycroft's sat next to you. He smiles as you get in. But not a normal smile. An 'I know something that I didn't know before and I'm treating you different because of it' kind of smile. Oh.
"You have cameras in John's house, don't you?" You say. He looks away. "Mycroft..."
"Just two for precautions."
"Really? You were watching me the whole time weren't you?" He looks back at you.
"I'm sorry." You scowl at him.
"Mycroft that was a private conversation. I don't tell everyone what we talk about when we're alone."
"But I'm not everyone."
"No, you're just the British Government who has to know everything that goes on in my life." You cross your arms and sigh at him. I probably would have told Mycroft eventually but I'd rather do it on my own terms without him spying on me. The car pulls up outside Mycroft's house. You both get out and you walk through the house, into your office. When you get in you immediately open the window because it's boiling in here and you're still annoyed at Mycroft. Hopefully all the heating he's paying for will go out the window. You then sit down in your chair. Mycroft walks into the room, heads to the window and shuts it.
"Don't open the window it's too cold outside." You frown at him,
"But it's too warm inside."
"But I don't want the window open." Oh, you want to be petty? Fine I'll be petty.
"Well it's my office."
"It's my house."
"If you're so bothered go to your own office."
"Maybe I will."
"Fine."
"Fine." He turns and slams the door shut.
"God, you're so childish!" You throw a cushion at the closed door. Then you open the window as wide as you can. I'll open the window if I want to. With that thought you sit down and begin to work through your sorrows.