Johnlock Stories

I Do

JOHNS POV

I looked at my soon to be husband standing across from me, he was in a beautiful crisp suit, I was used to seeing him in suit but this was different, this one was fitted to his body, flattering all the right spots. I was in love with this man, and finally got to do something about it.

"Dearly beloved and honored guests, we are gathered here today to join William Sherlock Scott Holmes and John Hamish Watson in the union of marriage. This contract is not to be entered into lightly, but thoughtfully and seriously, and with a deep realization of its obligations and responsibilities. The grooms have each prepared vows that they will now read," The officiant said to the audience, Sherlock and I were smiling at each other. This was the best day of my life.

"John Watson, I'm not big on speeches, well I am, but not sentimental ones. The day I was introduced to you I knew that you were going to change my life. I'd just been looking for a flatmate and when you walked through the doors at St. Barts hospital, I knew it was going to be you, it had to be you. You still had a psychosomatic limp, but you looked so good, I figured I had to try everything to make you come home with me that night. I was married to my work John, but when you entered my life it all changed, you became more important, and now, you are my work and I'm going to be married to you," Sherlock looks at me, tears welling in his eyes.

"Sherlock Holmes, when you cured my limp I knew there was something special here, I knew without you I could do nothing. Since day one I have loved every minute spent with you. You can be an arrogant arse sometimes, and occasionally I want to beat you to a pulp," Sherlock laughed at this, making my smile bigger, "I still don't know what I would do without you, you have shaped my life in more ways than you know. I know that you don't think you could ever be loved, but let me be the end of that belief, let me change your mind and show you how much I really love you," I bite back the tears.

"And now," the officiant begins again, "Sherlock Holmes, do you take John Watson to be you husband? Do you promise to love, honor , cherish, and protect him, forsaking all others, and only holding unto him forever more?"

"I do," a single tear slides down his cheek, his eyes were filled with joy, he could hardly contain himself.

"John Watson, do you take Sherlock Holmes to be you husband? Do you promise to love, honor, cherish, and protect him, forsaking all others, and only holding unto him forever more?"

"I do," we exchanged the rings on the others finger and repeated what the officiant asked, finally it was time to make it all permanent.

"And now, by the power vested in me, Matthew Jones, it is my honor and delight to declare you married. Go forth and live each day to the fullest. You may seal this declaration with a kiss,"

It was done, now all we had to do was seal it, Sherlock put his hand on the back of my neck and pulled me in, I closed my eyes and lifted my hands to cup Sherlock's face.

But then it was over, I jolted awake and sat up quickly, my breath was coming out in short ragged bursts, and my body was laced with sweat. The tears spilled down my face in waves. My shoulders hunched and I cried out into the night, I grabbed the closest thing to me which happened to be my alarm clock, and threw it across the room, hearing it shatter against the wall. I cried until there was nothing left to cry.

It'd been three hours that I'd laid awake thinking about Sherlock. Replaying the fall over and over in my mind. He's gone, he's been gone for two years, he left me. How could he do this to me? How could he throw it all away and leave me like this? Why would he do that? I loved him. And he just left, he gave up and left.

I was angry with him of course, but most of all I was heartbroken. This is the day two years ago that Sherlock had fallen, always on the anniversary I have these nightmares, but at least its not every night anymore, at least I could allow myself to sleep now. But every anniversary, the same kind of dream, where Sherlock and I are happy, sometimes even with a family, and every time I wake up with guilt and a pain so horrid that being shot hurt less. 

Finally, I cried myself back to sleep, hoping, praying to God, I'd never wake up.