"Hold your breath and say goodbye John," said a very stern and fierce Harry, as she stood up from the vintage armchair she had been seated in.

John held his head in his hands, "You never say a word!" he groaned at Sherlock, who had been sitting in his own leather armchair silently for the past 15 minutes listening to Harry telling John why he should move out of 221b and live with her. Behind his poker face, Sherlock was exploding with emotion. People don't, not when you feel like your heart's gone wrong, thought Sherlock, when you feel like-

"You've stayed too long, John. It's over!" She screams at both of them, but with a different meaning to the two men who hear it.

"Letting go-" starts John reluctantly but Harry interrupts him.

"He has let you down. Do you not remember the whole bomb situation? At the pool with the snipers and, you know, you almost DIED?" Sherlock could see the cogs turning in John's mind, he was giving in to his sister's persistence. There is nothing worse than a loving family member's persistence. Nodding John stood up and grabbed his coat from the back of the chair Harry had been seated on.

"Just let me show you why every life is a chance to try." Sherlock had reached out from his seat and grasped John's arm hard, freezing him on the spot. Staring directly into John's eyes Sherlock whispered, "we can live like we both can't die."

"Oh! In all this time..." Harry muttered to herself, rubbing her aching eyes. Sherlock let go of John as she walked over and placed the palm of her hand against her little brother's cheek. Softly she said, "I never wanted to destroy a dream come true." She embraced him in a sympathy hug.

And in all this time I never wanted to destroy someone like you, Sherlock thought, his eyes prickling and a thump in his throat. He was losing, he could feel it.

I want you to stay, that was all Sherlock had to say and I wouldn't leave, thought John. So give me a sign...

"Give me your hand, I'll take you home." Even Harry seemed disappointed that Sherlock had not tried harder to keep his John as she offered her brother her hand.

Sherlock's eyes were getting damp, and his heart was beating faster and faster. If Harry gets John out of that door she would do everything in her power to stop Sherlock and John ever meeting again, and Sherlock knew that. John was the only friend he had ever had, he was the most important thing in his life, and he was not about to let that go. Bolting up and grabbing John by the shoulders, carefully avoiding the scar, he forced the army doctor to look directly into his eyes.

"In the dark, we're all the same, we only seem alone. There's a place where we all must hide. There's a place that we lock from the inside. When it's over everything we ever were and everything we are..." Trying not to get lost in his own emotions and poetic nonsense he shuts his eyes and tries to sum up everything he wants to say. Slowly brushing the area where John had been shot, all that time ago, Sherlock whispers, "we will heal as the days roll by, because in the end... it's you and I." Sherlock pushed his fingers through John's short, sandy hair and then cupped his face in his hands, not once losing the eye contact that they had. "In all this time, I never wanted to destroy a dream come true, and in all this time, I never wanted to destroy someone like you." Taking a deep breath he finally said, "I want you to stay, so give me a sign, give me your hand, I'll take you home."

Both feeling as awkward as each other, John opted to give Sherlock a man hug to attempt to express how he was feeling, without looking like a sissy that he would have been teased about back in the army. Resting his hand on Sherlock's shoulder, John turned to his sister and said with confidence,

"We are sewn inside the fabric that is holding us together. We can only pray that something so tragic will save us all." Shrugging, giving up all hope of her brother staying safe, mentally and physically, Harry gave her precious brother a peck on the cheek and walked out of the flat, but not without giving Sherlock a nasty glare that was all the warning he needed to tell him she wanted him to keep John safe. He gave a slight nod in return to show that he understood and agreed to her request. "We are on our own again," murmured John, as he took his rightful place in his comfy armchair and picked up the newspaper.