Too Close
Johnlock songfic by WatsWitDaMonkey
AU where Sherlock jumps off St. Bartholomew's for more reasons than three.

You know Im not one to break promises. I don't want to hurt you but I need to breath. At the end of it all you're still my best friend. but theres something inside I need to release.

Watson sat languidly across from me. He didn't know it, but I was watching him. Recently, I had caught myself doing that more often than not. It was a strange and alien sensation that I got when I watched him when he didn't know it. Those times when he just got out of the shower and his hair was still wet and mussed and I wanted to run my fingers through it to settle it.
But then I thought to myself what I was thinking about and I thought how preposterous that thought was. He was my best friend, why was I having these thoughts and feelings about him? They would do nothing but distract me from my work.
I could feel something inside me as if it was crawling in my chest-clawing at my sternum, trying to get out.
Times like these I would stand up and rush out of the room, down the stairs, and out the door of 221B. John wouldn't think anything of it, I did it so often it became almost schedule.
I would breath in the cool air of London and hail a taxi. Sometimes I would go to the labs at St. Bart's and study something or take a riding crop to a body or sometimes just go to the park and walk to clear my thoughts.
When finished, I would return to 221B and the thoughts would return as well.

And it feels like I am just too close to love you. There's nothing I can really say. I can't lie no more I cant hide no more. Got to be true to myself. And it feels like I am just too close to love you. So I'll be on my way.

Moriarty. Foul, brilliant, Moriarty. The man who can fool even a genius like me. I knew I had stepped into a trap. I knew I was a dead man walking. Yet still, I went on. Somehow, I thought there might be a way to stop him, to save my only friend.
The time spent with John was more precious than ever now. I couldn't lie to myself anymore, I knew I was in love. But it felt so damn wrong! Love, what a terrible word it is, filled with so many distractions and negativities.
As a kid, I vowed to never fall in love. I knew that the chemicals that form love cloud out your judgement and override your system. I couldn't have that happen to me.
When I figured out that Irene Adler was in love with me, I laughed out loud to myself. It was so easy now. All I had to do was type in those four little letters, the beginning of my name, and there was all the information needed.
It was so simple and dull and obvious.

And now, as I looked at John, I knew it was wrong. I knew I was breaking everything I had ever vowed against. But I had to tell him. And now before it was too late.
"John," I began.
He looked up at me, "Yea?"
"I-" I was interrupted by a phone call. I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding in. He looked at me apologetically and answered it.
I knew what the phone call was about. Mrs. Hudson, 'shot and dying'. Of course she wasn't.
John, pay attention. It's a fake call. John! No, you can't leave. Don't leave or I'll die.
I wanted to scream at him to not be silly. But then he left. And I got my own message.
"I'm waiting. -JM"
I stuffed my phone in my pocket and trudged up to the roof.

You gave me more than I can return. Yet there's so much that you deserve. Nothing to say nothing to do. I've nothing to give. I must leave without you. You know were headed separate ways.

As I headed to my death on the rooftop I thought back on happy memories. Selfish, I know, I should've been thinking about ways to stop Moriarty. But it was inevitable.
So I thought back. I thought about John. He gave me more than just a skull to talk at. He brought me cases. He gave back thoughts and opinions and ideas to me. He put me in my place. He reminded me not to be ridiculous, but I would be anyway just to annoy him.
He gave me companionship, which is something I would never have had if he had been different. If he had been anyone other than John Watson. I could never keep a flatmate because of my habits, but my habits just pulled John closer to me. They just made him want to leave me less.
And I grew to love him. But now he would never be able to know.
Because love is my weakness. I admitted it to myself, but I never would out loud. Love is a thing for ordinary people. Love is not for me, the only Consulting Detective in the world, it is for people who need another being in their lives to keep them sane or or or, I didn't even know. I just knew that it would distract me from the case and so I could not fall into its deathly grip.
And yet I had, unknowingly, fallen into the grip of love.
I knew what would happen on the rooftop, I knew that, somehow, I must die. I hoped that John would get over me quickly. I hoped that he would find himself a girl he could settle down with and have a nice family. I hoped that he would forget me. He deserved at least that after what I'd given him.
I also had to kill myself so that he could have that possibility.
There was no other option, nothing else to do. I had to leave and John had to go on without me. Our ways had parted and we would never meet up again.

And it feels like I am just too close to love you. There's nothing I can really say. I can't lie no more I cant hide no more. Got to be true to myself. And it feels like I am just too close to love you. So I'll be on my way.

I stood on the edge of the rooftop, phone in hand. I brought it up to my ear, "John. No no, turn back and walk to where you came from."
"What, no I'm coming inside," he protested.
"No! Okay, now look up. I'm on the roof," he looked over to me.
"Oh Sherlock," he whispered.
"I have to tell you something. There are four reasons why I'm doing this. One," I began.
He spoke, interrupting me, "What are you going on about?! Look, I'm coming up,"
"No! If you come up I'll just jump sooner." that stopped his tracks.
"Sherlock, no," he whispered.
"My fourth reason is for Lestrade. They'll kill him. My third reason is for Mrs. Hudson. They'll kill her. My second reason is for you. They'll kill you. My first reason is for me. I'm in love. I can't have that," I said.
He laughed, cruel and humorless, "Sherlock come down from there. Enough of this. Why are you doing this?"
"I'm leaving a note. That's what people do, they leave notes, right?" I said, voice shaking.
"Sherlock, Sherlock. Stop this. Right now. No. What are you trying to prove?!"
"I've told you my reasons," I said. "I-"
"Who do you love?" he interrupted.
"Who do you love, you said you loved someone, who is it? Irene?"
I let out a bubble of a cry, "John. No, it's not Irene. No, John," I paused, trying to hold myself together, "Hamish. I, I, I love you."
I closed my eyes and reached out to him. I could hear him stifling sobs, "Sherlock, you bloody idiot, come down from there now. Now!" His voice cracked and I hated myself in that moment. I truly hated myself. I wanted to go to him, kiss away the tears until they were gone without a sign of showing up ever again.
But I couldn't. He would be killed. So I whispered, "Goodbye John. John Hamish Watson." I threw my phone aside. I could hear him scream my name.
I took a step off the building.

So I'll be on my way.
So I'll be on my way.
So I'll be on my way.

A/N if you read this I am extremely sorry. This was really cold and almost mean. Completely selfish of Sherlock. I hated writing this Sherlock yet I loved it at the same time because he was so just, anti-love. Yeah. If you read the whole thing and liked it, include 'Wolves' or 'Wolf' in your review and I know you'll have been faithful.
Approval monkey approves.
Wolves are love.