May 18, 10:13 am.
"Something's wrong," John muttered, pacing the venue and checking the window every few minutes. "Where is he?"
"Maybe he's just late?" Mary offered from the other end of the room, far too calm. She didn't believe in the whole 'don't see the bride until the wedding' and was currently overseeing the final decorations.
"Late?" John shot back, checking his tone a moment after. "He would never be late. He was — he was so bloody nervous about today, you said so yourself!"
"Did you go out and run him like I told you to?"
"Yes," John said through gritted teeth. "Just like you told me to."
"John, there's no need to be short with me," she said sternly, coming up behind him and hugging his waist, resting her face against his shoulder. "Just relax. It's your wedding day!"
John winced at the cheer in her voice, knowing she was right but unable to ignore the fact that every fibre of his being was shouting at him to go and find Sherlock. Bloody Sherlock. "Yeah, yeah, I'm sorry," he said quietly, turning in her hold and kissing her forehead.
"Apology accepted," she replied in a joking tone, and John offered her his best smile. "Now, c'mon. Lots to do."
John followed her and did just as he was instructed, wasting the next hour and a half on various tasks and constantly trying to reach for his mobile around his wife-to-be's grasp. She finally called Sherlock around noon, claiming with a grin that their friend was, "more likely to pick up if it wasn't you." John greatly disagreed, but it didn't matter — he and Mary both called Sherlock within minutes of each other, to no avail.
A sense of panic was beginning to set in. Images flashed in his mind's eye — Sherlock on the floor, bleeding. Sherlock's arms pocked from drug use. Sherlock on the rooftop. Sherlock —
Christ's sake. John scolded his thoughts into submission. He was being ridiculous. Sherlock would turn up, late as usual, with a dramatic flair and a sarcastic comment. He would come.
John waited near the door, a keen eye trained on the incoming flow of guests. There was no sign yet of Sherlock, but Lestrade came in a bit later, and John was able to offer him a genuine smile. "Greg, hey," he said, exhaustion seeping into his voice.
The DI grinned, giving him a warm hug. "Tired already?" John cocked his head, smiling quickly before letting it drop.
"No Sherlock?" Greg asked a moment later, glancing around. "I figured he'd be right beside you like it was his own wedding!"
John winced, nodding. "I was hoping you knew when he was planning on turning up."
"Haven't heard from him, mate," Greg replied with a frown. "I'll let you know if that changes, okay?"
"Thanks, Greg," John said softly. His friend moved to stand behind him.
Mrs. Hudson came next, and John's true smile widened. "Mrs. H, good morning!"
"It's nearly noon, dear, do you ever check the time?" she tutted as she hugged John tightly.
He laughed. "Do you know me?" She giggled and shushed him. "Mrs. H, have you seen Sherlock?" John asked. Worry creased her face as she shook her head.
"He was up early, working away at that violin of his. I thought he'd already be here." She looked behind John for their friend, obviously concerned. John waved his hand, trying to calm her.
YOU ARE READING
When You Think He Can't See You
Fanfiction"Now," Ella said gently, lacing her fingers. "I'm going to ask a hard question." John nodded. "Why did you marry the woman you now call your wife?" The answer should have been easy, should have come to John instantly. But it didn't. And that was the...
