Loving The Sociopath (Johnlock)

The Return

"Ah, well thanks for that love. The necklace is beautiful - but if you don't mind, I'm going to head off to bed. Merry Christmas, John!" John smiled at his landlady. "You too, Mrs Hudson. Thanks for all your help." Mrs Hudson returned the smile and shut the flat door. Merry Christmas...

John plonked himself onto his reddy-pink armchair and finished his glass of Whiskey. Once he had drained the glass from all possible liquid, he placed it in the sink before heading up to him room. Once John reached his bedroom, a chill immediately sunk in. He didn't particularly want to sleep in here tonight. Alone at Christmas; not even the faint noise of Sherlock's violin playing could be heard at the back of his mind and this greatly disturbed the doctor. He always heard it when going to sleep - that's what comforted him. Just as he was about to pull the covers over his half-naked body, the bed became unbelievably uncomfortable and the army doctor was reminded of the days after he'd come back from the army. He sat up right and ran his icy hand through his sandy hair.

He wouldn't mind would he?

***

John slid under the sheets in Sherlock's room, and suddenly he was engulfed in the scent that belonged to the detective. The comforting scent that instantly made the doctors heart speed up and muscles relax. The scent that could only be described to John as 'Sherlock'. No one else had such an inviting scent.

John clenched his fists around the soft white sheet, inhaling the beautiful scent of the man he was undeniably in love with. The fact that he would never see his love ever again made his heart bleed and a sob rose inside him. He didn't bother pushing the tears away and let them shed all over the pillow.

"Sherlock!" The doctor screamed into his best friend's pillow, not really caring if anyone heard. "Sherlock! Come back! Please! Please!"

He needed his best friend. He missed the stupid experiments in the kitchen; he missed the unnecessary deductions that often left people wanting to chop his head off. He even missed the snide remarks the detective made on a regular basis. He missed the deep voice that always had the last say in everything. He missed his hypnotising eyes; John could never tell if they were blue, green, grey or just clear. He missed the constantly frolicking around in a blue scarf and long Belstaff coat.

"Come back..."

Suddenly, the doctor felt a long pair of arms brace themselves round his torso. He swiftly spun around and his face collided with a man's shirt.

"Gahh!" John's voice became muffled. He tried to push the stranger away from him, but ended throwing himself off the late-detective's bed. As the dark figure stood up, John backed himself into the corner of the bedroom. The figure took 3 strides towards the doctor, but stopped once it had heard the doctor scream for it to get away from him.

"What the hell do you want with me?" Evidence of fear was laced in John's voice and the ancient tremor in his left hand had returned.

The stranger took one more step towards the frightened man in front of him and crouched down. John had his eyes clamped shut. The man raised his hand and cupped the others cheek. He smiled a little before whispering, "God I missed you Watson."

The detective leaned in and kissed the soft, fragile lips that belonged to his ex-flat mate. Unknown emotions flooded through his cold-hearted body; instantly warming him up. These feelings Sherlock could only describe as love, relief and lust. He made no effort to deepen the kiss as he knew his doctor would be confused as to why a complete stranger was kissing him. Sherlock's deduction was correct, as John's fist connected with his jaw; knocking him to the floor. He had landed in direct moonlight, meaning John could finally see the stranger who kissed him.

The doctor's eyes widened in shock as he realised who the man lying in front of him was. The loud ticking of the wall clock silenced and the sound of cars droning in the background vanished as the doctor moved to crouch in front of the detective. Without really knowing what he was doing, John raised a shaking hand and placed his fingers on Sherlock's chin. He then traced his whole face, taking in every pore, every worry line, and every ounce of his friend. John's hand moved from the detective's face and slid down his neck towards his shoulder. Within a matter of seconds, the doctor's arms were slung around the detective's neck with his head nestled into his coated shoulder, with tears spilling out his eyes.

Sherlock lifted a tender hand to the back of John's head and played with the hair on the nape of his neck. He smiled sadly to himself before speaking.

"I'm so unbelievably sorry John." The detective's voice cracked as tears began to roll out of his translucent eyes. John leant back and stared into the moonlight-lit pools of pure beautify before brushing his soft thumb against Sherlock's wet cheeks.

"Sherlock it's okay-"

"No it's not! It's not okay, John. I left you to think I was dead. I made you like this...that-that's unforgivable in my books. Please forgive me John. If you don't, I have no clue what I'll do." Sherlock looked down at his lap, taking a sudden interest in the dark grey buttons on his long coat. The doctor lifted up the detective's chin with his finger, and leant in.

After the two broke apart, John whispered into Sherlock's ear. "Does that prove that you're forgiven?" He winked and Sherlock's cheeks became adorably pink.

"I-I...I...um..." he coughed and looked up at John who was stifling a laugh.

***

"Sherlock?" The doctor looked down at his best friend who was still on the floor, now in a cross-legged position.

"Yes John?"

"I was wondering...c-could I perhaps...sleep in here tonight please...with you?" John's cheeks became increasingly red. Sherlock let out a deep chuckle before replying.

"I was hoping you would anyway."

John smiled and crawled back under the soft white sheets of Sherlock's bed. The detective stood up and removed his coat. Not wanting to make his flatmate uncomfortable quickly ran out into the bathroom to put his old tracksuit trousers and a plain white t-shirt on. He re-entered the room and slipped under the sheets. Subconsciously, he wrapped an arm round John's waist and pulled the shorter man's fragile body into his own.

"S-Sherlock?"

"Good night John." Sherlock kissed John's head and closed his eyes.

"I love you..." John whispered into the darkness that surrounded the two men. He had half hoped that Sherlock hadn't heard him, but then again, he also hoped he had.

"I love you too Watson, so so much." John spun around in the detective's arms and pecked him on the lips. The two fell into a peaceful sleep, both feeling as though they were on Cloud 9.

--------------------------------------------------------------------

Well that was...fun.

Okay, is it bad that I've watched 'The Empty Hearse' 8 times now? My head is filled with random quotes from the new episode...

Here are a few things to think about, and please feel free to leave your thoughts in the comments! :

1. What do you think of Anderson's (or Phillip's ;) ) behaviour? He's definitely changed...

2. Who likes Mary? Must admit, at first I thought I was going to dislike her because, y'know...Johnlock and everything, but I thought she's a really sweet character! So glad that Amanda Abbington (Martin Freeman's actual partner) plays her!

3. Does anyone else think that Sherlock's developed a heart over the past 2 years? And he's laughed more in one episode than he has in the past 2 series! I like it! Aha ;)

- Thanks a lot to SherlockedDoors who let me use 'the 12 o'clock rule' (poor Greg!). Please check out her books, personal favourites of mine are Beside You and the sequal, Between The Raindrops (both Johnlock).

Thank you for reading, you're all lovely x

Comment/vote/follow/share

~Rosie x