•Teenlock•Parentlock• If All Else Fails

2• Oblivion And Back

John's voice was thick as he stood on the platform, only Sherlock in front of him. "I... I can't think of a single thing to say." John admitted.
"No, me neither." Sherlock sighed, shaking his head. "I just... I just can't Believe you're going." John didn't ignore the large tear that rolled lazily down Sherlocks cheek. John wiped the tear away with his thumb.
"It's just Afghanistan." John said. "Actually, saying that sounds ridiculous. I'm not going to lie."
Sherlock laughed a little. "You'll email me everyday without fail, Watson. If you don't Its pretty damn certain that i'll kill you when you get back." He said with mock anger.
John stepped on the train and Sherlocks heart skipped a beat. He can't go. He thought. This could be the last time I see him. "JOHN!" Sherlock screamed, terror clear in his voice.
"SHERLOCK!" John's voice echoed Sherlocks panicked tone.
"I LOVE YOU!" They both yelled in unison. Shocked, Sherlock let his mouth hang open in an O shape. John, on the other hand, gave Sherlock a grin, his eyes smiling and happy. Hopefully, Sherlock thought, that wouldn't be the last time he said those words, or saw that smile.
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Sherlock smiled at his feet the whole way home, his brother sensed something was wrong with his brother immediately, Sherlock wasn't this happy alone, let alone with his brother. "What?" Mycroft asked, his eyes narrowing, driving his car. "Why are you smiling?"
"Am I not aloud to smile, Mycroft?" Sherlock asked, not looking up from his feet. Mycroft sighed loudly and rolled his eyes.
"Not without reason, little brother. You haven't been this happy since your red beard days." Mycroft retorted.
"Shut up fatty." Sherlock hissed, angry at his brother for spoiling his high spirits. "I'm happy, leave me be."
"Shan't." Mycroft said, stopping the car only to realise there was about a hundred miles of traffic in front of them. He groaned. "I dislike you Sherlock. I dislike you ever so much for making me drive you out here just to wave goodbye to your silly little friend. I could be studying."
"Studying!" Sherlock laughed loudly. "Is that what you call it!?" The laughter became slightly hysterical. "That's not what Mrs Hudson calls it!" He held his belly lightly.
"Oh do shut up, Little Brother. Mrs Hudson is merely a house keeper and has no idea what she's talking about." Mycroft said snootily. A small pause occurred, the only noise being Sherlock's occasional snorts of laughter. "What does she call it?" Mycroft muttered, desperately wanting to know what his brother did, and he did not. As usual.
"Ooh, I don't know." Sherlock giggled. "I think, getting freaky was one, and 'baby making without the lady' was her personal favour..."
"ENOUGH. Any more and you can walk home." Mycroft yelled so loudly, an elderly woman passing jumped. Sherlock proceeded to giggle.
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Sherlock was practically pushed out of his brothers car when he got home, still smiling to himself about the events of the journey. He saw Mrs Hudson, the Holmes Family's house keeper, and as they were constantly reminded, not their landlady. She smiled at the boys and pulled Sherlock into her arms for a hug. Sherlock had always been close with Mrs Hudson. She and Mycroft had basically raised Sherlock. "Are you okay Sherlock? How was John?"
"He was fine, Mrs Hudson. Happy to leave this hell hole for a while!" Sherlock joked, though he no longer felt like joking. Mrs Hudson wasn't wearing her uniform, she was wearing a nice dress, but it had ink on the sleeve so it couldn't have been that special an occasion...
Both Mycroft and Sherlock groaned in unison. "A formal dinner with Mother and Father and someone?" Mycroft asked mrs Hudson, waiting to be told he was right.
"Honestly Mycroft!" Sherlock said, rolling his eyes. "Grandmother and Grandfather. Your going down hill, brother mine." He winked and went inside to leave an astounded mrs Hudson and irritated Mycroft puzzled.
"He's right you know." Mrs Hudson smiled. "It amazes me every time you boys do it. Especially him. You always used to be the clever one My." She smiled at Mycroft.
"It's Mycroft. And I am the smart one. I just have things on my mind." He sneered, sticking his nose in the air and waltzing past her.
"Is it that nice Greg boy that you looking at on Facebook while..."
"ENOUGH. IM NOT GAY." Mycroft yelled. Silently begging that his parents and grandparents didn't hear that.
#
The first thing Sherlock did was get strait onto his computer, an old mac. John had looked into it, and during training camp, everyone was aloud one communication device, laptops were permitted. It would be awkward hours and possibly days without contact, but Sherlock just needed to know he was safe. That's all that mattered. He's mine now. Sherlock thought, a massive smile forming on his face, he's My John.
He opened the email Application and saw he had an unread email from John Watson, entitled 'Sorry'. Sherlock bit his bottom lip nervously and rested his hands on his knees. Open it. Open it.
Sherlock opened the email with an awkward pained look on his face. Like he was waiting to be slapped.
Dear Sherlock.
Okay, about the thing on the train. It was silly of me to tell at you like that, and I understand you may have been embarrassed. I am so very sorry. But there's no point in denying my feelings for you Sherlock Holmes. You have been my dearest friend through my darkest and best times. It has only been lately that I have discovered my feelings for you are more than friendly.
Sherlocks face started to crumple as a tear rolled down his face. He felt the same way.
These are complicated feelings for me, as I know realise I was never sure what Love was. I've grown to learn, over these past few days, that you are my world Sherlock. You are my hopes and dreams, the reason I wake up in the morning and the reason I fall asleep at night. Sherlock, you'll hate me for saying so, but I Love You.
I understand if you don't like me back this way. I hope we can remain friends. Reply as soon as you can.
Your, John Watson.
Sherlock blinked. He felt the same way! He felt the same way! Sherlock hurriedly flicked his hair out of his eyes and began to type back.

To: John Watson. Subject: RE 'Sorry'

Dear John.
There are so many things I do not quite understand about your email. The first thing is why it is entitled 'Sorry.' This is a stupid title because no one should ever have to be Sorry about expressing their opinions, unless their opinions are wrong. In that case they should keep their mouths shut. Anyway, I don't quite understand that you think I would not be your friend after this. I would. But John, I love you. And I can't write it into an email, and I can't say it out loud because to tell you how much I love you would take us to oblivion and back. I, John Watson, have finally found a human that I despise nothing about. That human is you. You are my dearest John and I will forever want you, need you and strive to get you.
Your passionate 'friend'- Sherlock Holmes.