Promise to the Living

Chapter Twenty

John didn't get that chance for over two weeks.

Mycroft and Lestrade left the Lanesborough after breakfast, saying they had to go to their respective offices. Sherlock and John remained in the suite, which was designated their temporary home until the anticipated media frenzy over the 'dead' detective's return abated.

Sherlock rarely left John alone: one morning he even walked into the bathroom while John was showering, leaned on the sink, and chattered about the new office he and Mycroft had decided to lease for the agency.

"It's right off Barbican Underground Station, close to Bart's. I might be able to do some experiments at the office now. It's close enough to the hospital for me to carry any heavier body parts I might-"

"Sherlock." The shower curtain rings rattled noisily as John threw it open. "No anatomy specimens in that office. We want people to believe we solve mysterious crimes, not commit them!"

Sherlock nodded and pouted, but he had a gleam in his eye that warned John to check the fridge regularly.

They talked about Sherlock's hiatus activities. These discussions were often punctuated by an emotional outburst from John, but as time passed, their old camaraderie stirred to life. After an initial awkward phase, Sherlock began ordering John around again and John grumbled to hide his contentment. When he found acid spills from Sherlock's new chemistry set (courtesy of Molly) eating into the kitchen's marble countertop and scolded his friend for ten minutes straight, John realized that their mutual healing was progressing nicely.

After publicists carefully chosen by Mycroft announced Sherlock's survival and return, the Fleet Street presses nearly ran out of ink. Journalists and camera crews hovered outside the vacantBaker Streetflat and eagerly investigated all 'Holmes sightings'. Friends such as Angelo and Mike Stamford, alerted to Sherlock's real location, visited in droves. When Mrs. Hudson, after weeping and clinging to Sherlock like an octopus, insisted on moving into the suite's third bedroom and looking after them during their stay, they could not bring themselves to refuse her.

Throughout it all, John thought about Mycroft constantly. The elder Holmes came by often but with Sherlock or Mrs. Hudson always around, they were confined to trivial discussions about the media circus and the private detective license applications. The forced banality drove John crazy, and Mycroft wasn't handling it much better. His composure remained impeccable, but he shifted and stirred in his seat, a restless gesture John had never seen him exhibit before.

Something had changed between them, yanked suddenly and violently to the surface by the churned-up emotions surrounding Sherlock's return. Mycroft had sensed it first, and tested the waters with that discreet touch. John's physical and emotional response to the non-platonic gesture had left him in turmoil ever since.

Was he in love? It felt like it. When the elder Holmes visited, John's focus sharpened, his senses heightened, and he felt invigorated. But he wasn't attracted to men (at least not before now), so how was it possible? And why now, after all these months of close friendship?

Maybe things would be clearer when they spoke.

John knew he could always text. But the discussion they needed to have couldn't be properly conducted via mobile. 'MH' and 'JW' were no substitute for Mycroft Holmes and John Watson in the flesh, their very nearness mandating total honesty. There was also the possibility that Sherlock could –no, make that would- scroll through John's messages when bored, find the exchange, and go nuclear.

God, if Mycroft validated and returned John's feelings, what would Sherlock do? Would it shatter their resuscitated friendship?

Why did life have to be so complicated?