John had hoped he would never have to meet them again. The last time it happened he had been fifteen years old, and he was damn near of certain death...or whatever the heck the angels did. He had never thought that he´d see them back in London, but there he was, gripping the work case tightly in his hand and keeping his eyes on the statue, not moving, not blinking. "Bloody hell..."
Last time it had been a mysterious man who had saved him, someone called The Doctor, a Timelord. He hadn't seen the man after that incident, and doupted that if he was there now, if he was the reason this happened, he wouldn't remember John. It´s nearly been 20 years after all.
While John was having a staring competition with the statue, a blue box flew calmly through the space, a tall man wearing a bowtie was running around the TARDIS.
The Doctor stared at the device in his hand in horror. The timey-whimey detector. It hadn't made a sound in years, so he had hoped the Angels had left Earth alone. He sighed and fixed the coordinates on the TARDIS. "Oh humans. Will I ever be done saving you?" He muttered as the TARDIS zoomed away.
John wasn't exactly sure which way to go, and he didn't dare to look away either even if his eyes started to burn with the need to blink. The whole situation seemed hopeless. Then there it was, the unmistakable sound he had heard 20 years ago when he´d last seen the man, and he autoatically turned his head to watch the blue box appear from middle of nowhere and nearly falling over in haste to get away from the Angel that had moved closer, grinning at him evily.
The Doctor climbed out of the TARDIS and grimaced as he saw the Angel cornering a man, creeping closer before hitting the Angel with his screwdriver.
"Whatever you do, don't. Blink."
"I know." John replied, straining to keep his eyes on the angel. "You said those exact same words to me 20 years ago. You never came back." He added feeling somewhat relieved that he really was there, knowing he was safe for now.
The Doctor gave the man a double take. No... It couldn't be... "John? Johnny boy! Well, wasn't that just good timing? Now, before we get into all the social business, I do believe we have an angel to escape from." He walked backwards until he and John were safe in the TARDIS and quickly got them out of there. "I'm going to have to deal with that in a mo, but I'll take you home first."
John grinned in answer, surprised that the Doctor did actually remember him. "That´s me. Think I have somekind of angel magnet or something." He replied letting out a breath once they were safe inside the TARDIS, looking around with a childish expression. "It hasn't changed at all..." He turned his head towards the man. "No hurry. It´s not like someone would be waiting for me." He added biting on his lower lip, lowering his eyes on the floor.
The Doctor raised his eyebrows. "What are you talking about? No special someone at home?" He asked as he fiddled with a few dials.
"He died." John replied trying to put it as simple as he could. "He...he´s not here anymore."
The Doctor fell silent. "Oh, John. I'm sorry. I'm so very, very sorry..." He hesitated, wanting to do something, knowing how it felt to lose someone important. "What was his name?"
"Sherlock. Sherlock Holmes, the most brilliant yet annoying man in whole world." John sighed leaning against the railing, arms crossed across his chest.
The Doctor looked confused for a moment. "Sherlock Holmes? Is dead? What year is this? Tell me!" He demanded.
John looked surprised by the demand, tilting his head slightly. "2014. It's been nearly two years since...I never even told him." John chuckled pressing the heel of his palm aganst his eye.
"2014, 2014..." The Doctor muttered over and over again, pacing through the control room. "No. No he's not, no... he's... Where is he..."
"I don't understand what you´re talking about." John said looking at him confused. "He died. He jumped of the roof. I saw him. I...I saw..."
The Doctor looked at John in horror. "He didn't. He wouldn't. Tell me he wouldn't. No. He said he needed the Tesselecta for... no. No." He slammed the breaks on the TARDIS and quickly changed the course. "Sorry, Johnny boy. I'm going to have to make a house call.
"He did. He died Doctor." John said silently, sliding on the floor not only because the sadness and hurt he had been hiding hit him at once but also because the TARDIS was moving shakily.
"Somehow, Johnny, I really don't think that's the truth." The TARDIS came to an abrupt halt, and The Doctor turned it off. "Are you coming?"
"Where are we?" John asked giving a fast wipe of his eye before standing up, leaving his case in the TARDIS. "And what do you mean not the truth? I saw him hit the pavement, I heard-" He cut himself off.
The Doctor threw open the TARDIS doors. "Welcome to the beautiful London countryside, in the year 2014. And as for the truth, John. I'm here to figure that out. Follow me." The Doctor set up a fast pace as he walked a short way before stopping in front of a cottage. He gave the lock a zap with the Sonic Screwdriver and held the door open for John to walk inside.
"Same year, but country?" John asked confused, taking a look around. He could see London somewhere far away, never been this far away from it and walked in the small cottage silently. "Isn´t this breaking and entering?" He asked worried.
"Well, it's entering." The Doctor spun around rather quickly and knocked over a vase. "Ah. And there's the breaking. Moving on." He walked further into the house. "You have two choices now, John. You can either go back and wait in the TARDIS or you can come with me. I can't tell you how this meeting is going to go, so this is entirely on you."
"I don't understand a wor what you´re talking about Doctor." John said starting to grow more concerned eyeing the broken vase stepping around it. "You´re talking like it would be the end of the world or something."
The Doctor eyed him warily. "It may not be the end of the world, but it just might be the end of yours." He hesitated, before deciding to just go for it. "Sherlock?" He called out.
John froze on the spot as soon as the Doctor called his name. His. John's eyes were wide and disbelieving, but when Doctor made no move John pushed past him moving in haze, nearly stumbling through the opening in the living room and..."S-Sherlock...?"
The Doctor frowned as he saw John's face. He shouldn't have done that. He shouldn't have brought him here. Oh Doctor, you've done it again. Just another human you've managed to break, he thought.
In the other room Sherlock's head shot up as he heard the second voice, not caring so much to hear from the Doctor. No. He couldn't. He wouldn't. He jumped up as quickly as he could and ran to the main living area. "John..." he breathed as he saw the other man.
John's mouth dropped open because there he was. The man and friend and crush he had seen die two years ago. His hair was little longer than back then, but it would be obvious. He didn't know what to feel, his knees buckling like they were going to give out on him and he was crying before registering the tears himself.
Sherlock rushed forwards and caught his best friend... his love before he fell to the ground. Really, he just had to grab onto John just to make sure this was actually happening. It wouldn't have been the first time he hallucinated (because apparently not eating for two weeks was actually rather dangerous but really, how was he supposed to remember something trivial as that without John there to remind him). His eyes squeezed shut as he held his friend tightly.
The Doctor watched their tearful exchange, hoping that something good would come from this. Hoping that just once he didn't completely mess up someones life. He glanced outside to where the TARDIS was sitting and thought idly of Idris as the two men embraced. He wondered what she would think of this situation. Would she be disappointed in him? River certainly would. But then again, River would also be getting a video camera and demanding John and Sherlock to make out, so he decided thinking of Idris was probably better.
The arms enveloped John, pressing him against the familiar chest and he got a faceful of the familiar warmth and scent feeling like his heart was bursting in his chest. He lifted his arm hitting Sherlock's chest over and over again, each hit getting weaker than the last. It wasn't meant to hurt, but he didn't know what to do. "You prick! You absolute prick! I saw you die and you´re living here in some laa-laa land and you didn't even let me know!"
Sherlock just waited as John hit him repeatedly. He deserved it after all. He deserved worse, really.
"I know. I'm sorry, John. It was... It was necessary," He said hesitantly.
The Doctor eyed them both warily. "Maybe I can give some insight into this. Sherlock and I have been in contact for a number of years when one of our cases led us into each others path. He said he needed help. An escape from some danger, so I helped. I loaned him something called the Tesellecta. A robot that is usually operated by miniature cross people. It can resemble a person in every single way, and can be used as a.. As a decoy. I had no idea he would use it for this," The Doctor explained.
"Why?! One sign would have been enough Sherlock! I bloody grieved for you! I tried...I tried t ocome after you!" John shouted more tears falling from his eyes. "Without Lestrade I would have succeeded, and instead you´re here!"
Both Sherlock and The Doctor looked at each other in horror.
"John.. No matter what happens, that is never a way out. Never," The Doctor said forcefully. Sherlock was usually silent. He couldn't believe he had done this. That he had forced his best friend to do something like that.
"But.. why?" He asked.
"Because you died! I saw you die, I heard you hit the pavement. I saw nightmares, I thought I saw you everywhere and it was frigging driving me insane." John admitted shaking his head tiredly.
Sherlock was speechless. He had no idea John had felt this way. He pulled John into his arms once more.
"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry," he repeated over and over again. And he really meant it. For the first time in Sherlock Holmes' life, he felt regret. Regret for leaving John by himself. Regret for going along with The Doctor's plans. Regret for not letting his friend know that he was alive. He hated himself. He hated feeling like this. He just wanted to cling onto John and never let go until the other man knew just what he was feeling.
John didn't know what to say, it felt like someone had stolen his voice away and Sherlock...he just kept apologizing. All John could do was to cry against Sherlock's chest, holding onto him tightly as if he was afraid Sherlock would disappear if he let go.
Sherlock held John as close and as tight as he possibly could. He knew they needed to talk, properly talk about everything that had happened but for now, he was content in just holding his friend.
"Why...Why didn't you let me know...you were here all the time..." John choked gasping for breath.
"John, if you knew I was alive, would you have honestly just sat their and left me alone?" Sherlock asked, pulling back slightly. The Doctor smirked as he heard the question. He already knew the answer to that one.
"Of course not! Why do you insist on being alone?!" John snapped feeling the anger build inside of him again.
"He wasn't alone, John. Mrs Husdon and I were never too far away," The Doctor piped up. Sherlock made a face.
"Unfortunately," he muttered.
"Mrs. Hudson knew?" John gasped in shock. "She never said anything! She-" John felt ill, pushing himself up and away from Sherlock.
"Mrs Hudson, The Doctor and Mycroft knew. Plus a handful of my homeless network. And a few hundred miniaturized people inside a robot version of myself. They were all sworn to secrecy. Believe it or not, John... This was for your safety," Sherlock explained, his expression looking pained as John moved away.
"He's telling the truth, Johnny," The Doctor confirmed.
"Don't call me Johnny, I´m not fifteen anymore." John snapped at the Doctor, fists clenched on his sides. "And not one single hint. Not a clue. Nothing. Nada. You left me alone which literally nearly ended my life! And then you´re here living cozy in your own hideout. Nice, very nice."
The Doctor shook his head slightly. "Oh, Johnny. Growing up is one thing I hoped you'd never do..." He muttered, more to himself than anything.
Sherlock hesitated. "I - I had to. Moriarty was going to kill everyone I loved if I myself didn't die. But I didn't want to kill myself, and The Doctor owed me a favour. I didn't expect you to take it so.. hard."
"Didn't expect me to-" John stared at Sherlock in disbelief, turning around and walking past the Doctor. "Take me home."
The Doctor almost jumped in surprise. "But - Johnny -"
"John, please don't - "Sherlock exclaimed, cutting him off.
"Save it. I´m done. Done, hear me?" John snapped not turning to face either one of them.
"Is this some form of humor that I'm not familiar with? Not ten minutes ago, you couldn't bring yourself to let go of me and now you're leaving?" Sherlock asked forcefully.
"Uh.. Uh, god. They're both having emotions," The Doctor said to himself. He resisted the urge to call for Rory.
"It´s not any sense of humor." John replied turning his head to look at Sherlock over his shoulder. "I see you haven't changed at all. You still understand nothing."
"No, I understand everything. You are just talking in code!" Sherlock exclaimed.
The Doctor followed their conversation as best as he could, bracing himself to do something drastic if this turned physical.
"I am not talking in code!" John snapped turning around to fully face Sherlock. "I guess I have to speak in code so you´d understand oh great detective!"
"Then why the drastic mood swing? Every aspect of your body language earlier suggested that you were happy to see me. Relieved, even. And now, going by your facial expressions, the creases in your eyelines, the way you keep wringing your hands and the fact that you can't stay still suggests agitation but what have I done?" Sherlock demanded.
"What have you done?! Let´s see, you killed yourself, or at least let us believe like hta,t you had people lie to me that you indeed were dead even if they could see you all the time, even Mycroft even though I know you despite him more than me! You didn't let me know, you don't seem to care and I´m so fucking tired of it already so fuck it!" John breathed deeply, like he had just ran a marathon eyes wet and cheeks red. "I´m serious. I want home."
"Is that all?" Sherlock asked. There was more to it, but John was just holding back.
The Doctor was still looking wildly between the two, Sonic Screwdriver ready in his hands for whatever they decided to do.
"It doesn't matter. you kept me hidden, i´ll kept you. Fair deal." John muttered eyes lowering on the floor, pain holding his heart. He had so hoped..
Sherlock stared at The Doctor, who was shifting under the piercing gaze.
"Uh. Johnny boy... As much as I would like to take you home, I can't."
"And why is that?" John asked turning his eyes on the Doctor.
"Sherlock pick-pocketted me and got the TARDIS key," the Doctor said sheepishly. Sherlock brought the key out of his pocket with a hint of pride.
John lifted an eyebrow at that before letting out a huff and turning around. "Fine. I´ll walk." he stated walking to the door yanking it open.
With a flourish of the sonic screwdriver, the door was closed and locked in no time.
"'Fraid not, Johnny boy. Not with the Angels running about," the Doctor said. Sherlock's head whipped round.
"Angels? In London?" He asked.
"How do you think I came across your boy - love- er - friend here?" The Doctor explained.
Meanwhile John tried to uselesly pull the door open, whirling around with a glare hard enough to pierce through rocks. "Open the door. I am not staying in here!"
The Doctor sighed. "Look. I need Sherlock to come back to London and help me with the angel issue again but he's got the TARDIS key and he's not going to leave while you're being stroppy so /both/ of you," He said, glaring at them both, "need to work this out. I'll be in the other room. I think I might call River." The Doctor walked to a separate room and locked the door. And then pressed his ear against it to hear every word.
Sherlock nodded in understandment, glancing over at John. "Why are you so eager to leave all of a sudden?"
"Because I don't want anythng to do with you. You live your life here, great. I will be in London."
"I did this for you, you know. You think I wanted to live like this? You think I /wanted/ to leave you?"
"Well it really does look like it with the way you´re talking!"
"In what way?" He demanded.
"Like I don't matter!"
"You always mattered, John. And you always will."
"It doesn't look like it! Leaving me like that and others knowing you were alive?! Yeah, I feel how much I matter."
"They were going to kill you, John. Moriarty knew that the most important person in my life, is you. There was no way I was letting them harm you. Leaving you... It hurt. In all the sentimental ways that I thought I was above of, it hurt in the most worst way."
John bit on the inside of his cheek to not give up so easily. "One sign Sherlock...one word..."
"The flowers left on your doorstep on valentines day. You thought they were from Harry. The jam in your letter box that you threw out because you thought it was a stupid prank. The random number that texted you every once in a while that you dismissed as just another wrong number. There were always signs, John. You just weren't looking."
John's eyes widened with every word until he had to lean against the wall for support. "You were...that was you...?"
Sherlock scoffed like he was insulted. "Of course it was me."
"Oh my god." John gaped burying his face in his hands.
"Don't ever think that I don't care, John. I know in the past, I've been informed that I don't have a heart. But in my time away, I've come to realize that I do have one. And it belongs to you," he said simply, not really realizing the weight behind his words.
John's head snapped up at the words, wide eyes staring at Sherlock. "W-What?"
Sherlock hesitated. "Di - Didn't you hear me?"
"I heard you...b-but do you realize..." John swallowed cheeks turning red.
"The weight of your words Sherlock."
"I - no.. Is it bad?" He asked, sounding uncertain for once in his life.
"If you don't realize it yourself..." John said quietly, wrapping his arms around himself.
"John... I'm just - I'm just telling the truth. If you don't feel the same, then..." Sherlock explained, trailing off.
"What do you mean feel the same? I need to hear it Sherlock." John pleaded.
Sherlock huffed out a sigh. "John, I love you, obviously."
"Don't add that 'obviously' there." John chuckled silently, feeling like his heart treathened to jump out of his chest. "I´ve...always loved you..." he lifted his eyes up on Sherlock. "That´s why your death..."
"John..." Sherlock breathed. He hurried forward and pulled John back firmly into his arms. John let himself break again, clutching on Sherlock like his life depended on it his body trembling.
"Can you... Will you kiss me?" Sherlock asked silently, unsure how to proceed.
John lifted his head up, staring up at Sherlock for a moment with a small smile before rising on his tiptoes, pressing their lips together gently, nerves exploding in his stomach.
Sherlock felt his heart (metaphorically) stop as he felt John's lips against his own. He made a small noise at kissed John back, clutching at his hips.
The Doctor was following the conversation as best as he could, and once they fell silent, he figured they had worked out their differences enough fro him to come out again. He burst out of the room.
"Right then! That's - kissing. They are kissing." He awkwardly moved closer to where his friends continued their embrace, showing no intention of stopping. "How do you people do that? Is this some human talent I don't know about?"
John felt his cheek heat up as he became aware that the Doctor was with them again, but as he tried to pull off he noticed that Sherlock just followed and he chuckled giving Sherlock's lower lip a small nip, losing himself in it.
"Guys? Hello? Guys, this is serious. There are angels in London!"