Chapter Twenty: A Rose by the Name of John Watson
John sunk his head into Sherlock's lifeless chest, tears falling onto his bloody shirt. He felt so upset, so angry that he couldn't save Sherlock. If he had been quicker, he could have broken the curse, he could have saved him. Sherlock Holmes, the man he loved.
Then something happened. John felt it, he didn't know exactly what it was, but he knew what if felt like. Movement.
John looked at Sherlock. All his dragon parts had disappeared, as well as his wound! And he was breathing.
Sherlock opened his eyes again, looking at John, whose face was still wet from tears.
"You don't listen, do you?" Sherlock asked, taking his hand and drying off John's face. "I didn't want you to ruin your pretty face."
John was confused. He stood up, leaving the man on the ground, and walked away. He just saw Sherlock die. Now he wasn't a dragon, and he was alive. He couldn't believe it. No, really, he couldn't believe it.
"John?" Sherlock followed John across the garden. "John!" John would glance back to see him following, and Sherlock would stop, quite like he did before. As John kept walking, he went through the magnolia trees, which Sherlock proceeded to climb. Or at least try to.
John stopped when he heard rustling and crunching. He turned around to find Sherlock hanging upside down, his leg caught between two branches. It was funny; Sherlock looked ridiculous and also embarrassed. He wasn't the swift dragon with the same agility. He was a man.
"John," Sherlock said, "I would love it if you could help me."
John laughed. He walked over to Sherlock and squatted down so he was level with his face. He smiled at Sherlock.
"It is you," John said, kissing his forehead.
"Obviously," Sherlock replied. "Except I don't have the tail. Or the horns. Or the fangs. Or the claws."
"Or the pointy ears." John rubbed Sherlock's ears with his fingers. Just then, Sherlock's foot broke loose, and he fell on his back. His head was level with John's lap, which the doctor proceeded to place his curly head in, stroking his hair. Sherlock smiled at the doctor lovingly with his beautiful blue-green eyes.
"John," said Sherlock, "have you ever wondered why I started calling you that? Originally I didn't want to. You see, I liked calling you Dr. Watson. It was nice, the name of someone I could probably trust. And I do like you. And I thought to myself, 'A rose by any other name is still as sweet.' Am I right?"
"Yes, Sherlock," John replied. John leaned forward to kiss Sherlock's lips. As they locked lips, a thought occurred to John: 'A rose by any other name...' That was how Sherlock was. He might have had the appearance of a dragon, but truly his appearance didn't necessarily make a difference to who he was. He was Sherlock, a bright young man, despite his disadvantage. Still, John might miss the dragon tail.
"Oh, John," Sherlock said, "you don't know how long I've waited for this moment."
"To be human?" John asked.
"No, to be loved. I've been so unappreciated for years, one of the many reasons I was so cold. But when I saw you, I..."
John smiled at Sherlock and kissed his forehead.
And so the impossible happened. A heartless beast found love, and even so found friendship. Appearance didn't matter. And you know what happens next.
John and Sherlock lived happily ever after.
Author's Note: Aww! It's over already? Yes, it is. And it has been a wonderful journey with all of you.
Thank you for all the feedback and lovely comments, because they are always appreciated. It has been wonderful writing this story, and I hope you all enjoyed it.
My next fan fiction is on the rise. I haven't thought of what to write exactly, but I have some ideas. One of them including Gatsby.
Goodbye for now, you avid readers. See you very soon!
- Detective M.