One More Miracle

*text* "spoken" 'thoughts'



Sherlock watched as John Waston looked at his headstone, whispering that he should come back, that it wasn't true, that he was still alive and his heart ached. He wanted so badly to leave the shadows of the trees and show John that he didn't have a reason to be depressed, that he was still alive.

His heart was screaming at him to go to the blonde man but his head knew that it wasn't possible, not while he was being targeted because of his friendship with him.


He turned and walked away from the graveyard and away from his only friend, making sure to stay under the cover of the trees. He was walking away from the man that held his heart in his hands, that only person that had ever made him feel something.

He swore to himself that once it was safe, once it was over, he would go back to John, but for now, he had to leave him behind, so clearly grieving and broken hearted, breaking his own heart in the process.


*I miss you Sherlock. Come back. Please. One more miracle. Don't be dead. - JW*

*I love you. - JW*

*I wish I had told you. I hope you know now. - JW*

*I know you wont be reading these, but its nice to be able to send them and still hope, even though I know its impossible. - JW*

*Sherlock... - JW*

*Please. - JW*

*I love you, Sherlock Holmes. YOU, you the arrogant, brilliant, handsome, hopeless, witty, amazing, stupid bastard. You never really knew how I felt, depsite all the signs. I always wanted to tell you, I always hoped and feared that you would casually tell me over breakfast one morning, but you never did. God, Sherlock. Come home. For me. So I can tell you how I feel. I need you. I need you to walk through our front door at 221 B Baker Street, your curly hair...*

*... messy and blowing in the wind, your piercing eyes beautifully silver and lightning quick. Your stunning voice. I love you, more than you will ever know. Sherlock... I will never forget. - JW*


The texts fill his heart with a unbearable ache that wont go away, almost completely breaking his resolve to go to John. 'He must be using this as a way to take care of all his feelings and stay away from therapy, and I can't blame him.'

*I love you. Believe me. - SH*


The message is saved with the other 246 that have been wanted to be sent in reply to the doctors' messages. 'Its not only John finding it hard...'

Everyone believed that he had no heart or feelings, that he was just a living machine. It wasn't true. He used his arrogant front and his skills to stop from being hurt. He had successfully shut off his emotions until... Until John had walked into his life and stole his heart with his big baby blues, making him feel things, not that he himself knew it then. He only realized when John was threatened.

*I wish I could. Oh John, I wish I could. - SH*


Message Saved.

The screen goes blank before its shoved into a jacket pocket.


*Its a year today, Sherlock. It hurts. They have reprinted every little thing about you, making us all go through it again. - JW*

*I miss you. - JW*

*Happy Birthday. I would give you a kiss, but I had to settle for you headstone. It was cold. If you were alive... Here... Your lips would have been pliant, soft and warm. God... - JW*

*Merry Christmas. I love you. - JW*

*Happy New Year. Be my New Years kiss? - JW*

*Your always on my mind. Your eyes, especially. - JW*

*I tried calling you today. I heard your voice for the first time in forever. It is still as amazing as ever, and it made me think about everything we've been through. About how I fell in love with you. But thats a story for another time. - JW*

*I hope you are happy, wherever you may be. - JW*

*Please don't forget about me Sherlock. I don't know what I would do if you ever forgot about me. Your my life, my heart, my soul. I'll always be yours. Come back! Just please... Come back. - JW*


More texts filled with pain fill the phone and its imposible to forget them all, especially the first one he sent while he was at the grave, unaware that I was watching from the shadows. The replies are slowly filling the draft box, and they will be sent when this is over. The anguish in them break my once frozen heart. I want nothing more than to go back home and comfort the person I care most for. 'We are both in London... He's so close... No! I wont risk it, risk him.'

I turn away and keep walking, swearing to myself that I will return and that I will stay with John once its safe. That when I have John, I wont let him go.

'I will come back.'


*I thought I saw you in the street today, but of course it wasn't you. Two years now. Your still not back. When will you come home? - JW

*Happy Birthday. You have ny thoughts. - JW*

*Merry Christmas, my love. - JW*

*Happy New Year. My lips are waiting for yours. Come and claim them. - JW*



My heart races as I look at my phone and I am so awfully confused and hurt, and most of all stunned that someone would play this prank on me, knowing how I feel. When I look down, the text is still on the screen, and I can't help but read the words again.

*I love you. Believe me. - SH*

Sherlock is gone, has been for three years, now. Why the hell would someone reply to my texts to Sherlock after all this time? Why would they even bother? I stopped sending the texts about a year ago, but it doesn't mean that I have forgotten them, or Sherlock, or my love that only he holds; far from it. I just needed people to stop worrying about me, and to think that I have moved on.

The vibrating phone alerts me to a new text, and I find myself scared to open it. I can't deal with something like this so close to his anniversary. I am almost completely broken.

*221 B Baker Street. Its important. I can't wait to see you John. I love you. - SH*

I grab my coat and run, leaving cash on the table as I race down the busy streets, heading towards my home, to my memories, to him.


*Hurry, John. Please. - SH*

*I'm waiting for you. Only you. Always you. - SH*

*I missed you so much John, I can't even begin to tell you how much. There is so much to tell you. John, hurry. -SH*

I know that I am teasing him, egging him on, but I really don't care about anything other than the need to see him. I've missed him so much more than I really can put into words, it has, after all, been three years without him. I just want to explain everything and sort out this mess. I want his forgiveness, his understand, his love. The front door opens; he's here.

Mrs. Hudson cries his name. That is all I need to hear to get moving from my seat and pick up my phone again.

*John... - SH*


I ignore Mrs. Hudson - I'll make it up to her later - and choose to run up the stairs leading to our apartment, looking around before my muscles freeze. There, in his chair facing the door is the object of my heart and mind's obsession, the man who has haunted me since his death...


He moves towards me with graceful movements and caution before coming to a stop in front of me, his eyes still just as beautiful. He ever so slowly puts his arms around me, the sandelwood and spice and book scent that is him envoloping me as his arms do, and I feel the heat radiating off him, before finallly, I feel and hear his heartbeat. It tells me two things.

The first is that Sherlock is alive.

The second is that Sherlock has undoubtly seen and read all of my texts.

The relief and awe that I'd felt earlier melt into anger and betrayal and I push myself out of his arms so I can stare at the man in front of me.


I feel John tense and the feeling of him being in my rooms is shattered as he pushes away from me. The anger and betrayal in his body and eyes is too much for me to take as I myself take a step away from him. I need to give him time and space, or I could very well lose him, and the thought doesn't sit well in my stomach.

"John, I love you. And I'm... Sorry. But I had to! It was for your safety! I need to keep you safe until they were dead. I had to protect you! Because even though it killed me to read your texts day after day, knowing that you were in pain, and not being able to tell you anything or even see you, it would have killed me more if you had of died at their hands! Please... John, you really must believe me. I never wanted to hurt you... In fact, just the thought of hurting you -"


I kiss him in the middle of his sentence, not being able to restrain myself any longer. His lips are just like I imaigned them to be - warm, soft and pilant, and I couldn't help but pull him close so that our bodies are touching as much as possible and I slide my arms around his neck, tugging him down and my hands fall under his hair at the nape of his neck. His hair is soft and I feel him moan into my mouth and I push my tongue against his lips, begging him to let me taste him.

I push the coat off his shoulders and feel him so the same to me. I can't take it anymore, and I start to undo his shirt and pants, pushing him towards his bedroom, my anger fueling my lust and my love for him, and I know that he feels the same way and I allow myself to lose control as he loses his.

I gasp and so does Sherlock as our nakes and hard skin connects at several points, need to be closer, need Sherlock.


I know John is angry at me, but right now my mind has stopped and everything is perfect. I love him so much, and I know that he feels the same because I have the evidence. I love him so much and I am not afraid to share this important moment with him. I already know that I will have to top, and I'm fine with that, because its John, and I would do anything for John. I just want to be with my blonde doctor, and show him how sorry I am, and prove myself worthy of him and his love. I want to take away all the pain that he has had to endure because of me and turn it into something beautiful.


The two lovers fall to he ground, blonde and black hair meshing together in the weak afternoon sunlight, the tan and white flesh meeting, the sperate limbs tangling together until they become one. Two naked bodies, entertwined, moving, sweating and panting together on the bedroom carpet, neither man being able to wait until they make it to the bed before the completely devour each other, feeling, tasting, touching, learning, moving, exploring until at least, they climax together, pouring all of their emotions into their cires.



I awoke too warm, too sore and unsure where I am. Until I looked up into the sleeping face of Sherlock. My heart and soul. And then the event of yesterday come flooding back to me and my feelings spiral out of control. Quickly, I move out of bed, being careful not to wake Sherlock, scooping up my clothes to get dressed outside the room because Sherlock looks exhausted, and I need time to think.

The kitchen is full and very empty of food so I grab my wallet and pull on my shoes before walking out of the apartment, making a list of things I need to buy, locking the door behind me.


The cold comes seeping in and I open my eyes, at first feeling very confused and lost. I didn't know where I was until every moment came back to me, as I fully awoke. But my room was empty of John and his clothes were gone. The flat was silent other than my breathing. I reached out and touch the spot where his body had lain and it felt cold - John had been gone a while.

My heart contracted as I pulled on my pants and shouted for him before running through the flat, searching, wishing, hoping that John hadn't just left after our night together. I can't help but give up quickly as I realize that he is not here. My John, my doctor is gone, and my heart breaks as I notice that his shoes are gone too - he truly has left me. I can't stop myself from falling to the ground as more pain enters my heart.

John has left, and it is clear that he has not forgiven.


The stairs creak under the combined weight of me and the shopping bags as I make my way home where I left my love sleeping. Hopefully, he is still sleeping, because I plan to make him a special breakfast in bed. But as the door swings open, I see that it wont be happening that way because sitting in the middle of the room, crying, his arms around his body is Sherlock. I lose the grip on the bags as I rush towards him and the noise startles Sherlock into looking up.

His amazing eyes widden as they lock onto mine before he smiles a smile that melts my heart and turns my insides to mush.

"I'm home."

"I see. I'm... happy. I missed you John."

And with these words, he leaps up and kisses me, and I know that despite all of the pain, we will be okay. I know that Sherlock and I will be together, even with all of our fighting. We will work through anything and everything, and things will only get better.

Because that is what love is.