We Will Figure This Out

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A/N Hey My Lovelies!!!! Here is the second chapter!!! Hope you like it!!!! Enjoy<3

"So." Sherlock drew out the word, stretching it long enough to make it uncomfortable.

"So?"

"We are going to summon Death?"

"Yep."

"How do you propose we do that?"

"I have no idea." They giggled, John hiding behind his hand to avoid drawing unwanted attention. "Jesus. Are we mad?"

"No. But we are in love apparently, and I have heard that love is madness." John grinned, knowing he probably looked like a fool. Sherlock was smirking, and John knew that if he wasn't a ghost, the man probably would be blushing like a teenager.

"So, you love me too?" Sherlock stared at him as though he were mad.

"I agreed to let you summon Death so you can try to bring me back into a life that I deliberately removed myself from. Why would I do that for anything else but love?" John felt his cheeks burn, knowing that was the closest thing to a complement he would ever get from Sherlock Holmes.

"Let's get home Love. We have some research to do."



Over the next few weeks, John spent almost all his free time researching. Sherlock was really no help at home, but occasionally John would take him to the library and he would read through some old books while John would browse the internet. He liked spending time with the man, Sherlock was brilliant and incredibly gifted at reading people. When he would get bored, which was pretty much a guarantee while they were out, he would lean in close and whisper his deductions to John. It was amusing but incredibly distracting.

"That gentlemen in the corner ran out of hair gel this morning, so instead he used-"

"God, please don't say something gross, like his cum or something."

"Oh, I was going to say French Fry grease. I think I like your idea better." John giggled, wincing as the surrounding people shushed him. "Stop that. You're going to get us kicked out." He scolded, the harshness of his tone dampened considerably by the grin on his lips.

"But John-" He shot a glare at the student that shushed him. "I like making you smile." John blushed and focused on his laptop, trying to ignore the smug grin Sherlock was pointing at him.

"Just, keep reading. We've got to be getting close to figuring this out." John ignored the crushing fear that gripped his chest. It had been three weeks since they started looking, and they hadn't found anything.

John was beginning to fear that Sherlock had given up.

"John-"

"No. Don't. Please Sherlock. We will figure this out Love. I promise." Sherlock pursed his lips, turning his attention back to the book in front of him. "What's your power level at?" They could only stay out for about three hours at a time before Sherlock's power faded, the simple circuit of electricity unable to sustain him for too long.

"Low." John nodded, closing his notebook and getting ready to power down his computer.

"Alright Love. Let's get you home." Sherlock nodded and let himself flicker away.




"John?" Sherlock's soft voice pulled John from his dreams. He forced his eyes open to see Sherlock standing by the edge of the bed, shuffling his feet as though he were nervous.

"Hey Love. What's wrong?" He pushed himself up on his elbows and rubbed at his eyes, a yawn pulling itself from his chest.

"I-I miss you." John smiled softly at the ghost, feeling his heart swell at the sentiment.

"I miss you too Love, but I'm right here."

"I-I know." Sherlock glared at the floor, chewing at his bottom lip and bouncing on his toes. He looked so young, and it made John want to take him in his arms and comfort him. "C-Can I- can I try something?"

"Of course Love." Sherlock nodded and flickered out of sight, reappearing on the other side of the bed. He furrowed his brow and motioned with his hand, using his ability to manipulate objects to move the blankets. He adjusted them so they were lying flat and even on the bed, the only disturbance being John's body lying beneath them.

Then he climbed onto the bed beside John.

The action shouldn't have shocked John, but he gasped nonetheless. He had seen Sherlock sitting in chairs and other furniture before, but something about this was different, more amazing.

John adjusted so he was lying on his side, facing his ghost. Sherlock's eyes were wide and curious as he followed suit, lying so he was facing John. They weren't touching, but John could feel the gentle spark of power flickering off the other man.

"I-Is this alright?" John smiled at the question, resting his hand in the empty space between them.

"Better than, Love." He whispered, enjoying the grin that Sherlock gave him. Sherlock glanced at his hand and his brow furrowed again. Sherlock's hand rose to hover just above John's, sending a strange chill along John's spine.

Then Sherlock lowered his hand. John was expecting the usual flash of cold and burst of static electricity at the touch. He braced himself for the sadness that always accompanied being unable to touch Sherlock.

He gasped as he felt a cold weight settle against his hand.

Sherlock was touching him. Sending sparks of cold electricity dancing along his entire body and causing him to gasp.

"Sherlock-"

"I've been practicing." He grinned, tears pricking at the backs of his eyes. He was finally touching Sherlock Holmes.

"God, how much power is that using?"

"A lot. I can't sustain it for too long. I just wanted to see if it would work." Sherlock pulled his hand away, and John fought back the flash of disappointment that followed. Sherlock shifted closer, leaving only inches between them, the man and the ghost.

Then he closed the gap.

When their lips met, John pulled away almost immediately.

"Sorry. Not good?" Sherlock asked, sounding sheepish and slightly hurt. John shook his head, smiling at the pale man next to him.

"No, it was very good. Just, overwhelming." It had felt as though his entire body had been struck by an icy bolt of lightening, shocking through him and burning through to his very core. "I don't want to wear you out."

"You won't. I have enough power for another kiss. I-If you want." John nodded, leaning forward and pressing his lips against Sherlock's once more. He whimpered against the sensation, pulling back after a few seconds. He was breathless and lightheaded, but happier than he had felt in a long while. "Go to sleep John." Sherlock whispered.

"Goodnight Sherlock."

"Goodnight My Love." John closed his eyes and felt his mind start to drift.

For the first time in years, John suffered no nightmares.

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