Sherlock Imagines and Preferences 2

Forgiveness

Your head snapped into her direction, your eyes boring holes into hers. ''He hates me. John hates me,'' you yelled, tears not ceasing. ''I killed his wife. I'm a murderer!'' 

''You're not a murderer. She jumped in front of that bullet for you. You didn't force her to do that.'' 

''But I should've died that night. Not her. I was prepared for it, I could've done it. She would still be alive today and John wouldn't be mourning over her.'' 

''No. But he would be mourning over you. Yes, he lost his wife, a tragedy on its own. But you can support him and help him through that. You know you can.'' 

''He doesn't want to see me,'' you muttered softly, wiping the tears from your red cheeks. ''He can't stand the sight of me.'' 

''Then give him some time to process this all. That's all he needs, (Y/N). Time.'' 

You squeezed your eyes shut, lowering your head. ''I want my friend back.'' 

''You haven't lost him yet. If you don't talk to him and avoid him, you will. But it's not too late to do something. It's never too late. Try and speak with him. If he doesn't want to, give him more time. But never stop trying, okay?'' 

You nodded. ''Okay.'' 

''Good. Then I will see you next Tuesday. Take care of yourself until then.'' 

You nodded before standing up and shaking her hand. ''Thanks again. See you next week.'' You left the practice without looking back. 

The rain had stopped completely and the sun peeked out from behind the grey clouds. 

The idea of heading to John's home and offering your help had embedded itself in your mind. Happy scenarios flashed through your head where he'd hug you and apologise for his words. 

A soft smile reached your lips as your pace quickened. Your head had convinced you that everything would be alright in the end, and now, you simply couldn't wait to see John and make amends.

Soon, you arrived at his house. You straightened out your coat and took a deep breath, calming your nerves. You rang the doorbell and waited anxiously for it to open. 

''(Y/N),'' Molly breathed as she opened the door, surprised to see you. She was bouncing Rosie in her arms, trying to settle her. 

''Hi,'' you said, smiling slightly. 

''What are you doing here?'' 

''I was- I was just trying to see if John needed some help and if I could talk to him.'' You explained. 

Molly inhaled sharply as she avoided your gaze. ''Uh, (Y/N), I don't think that's a good idea.'' 

''Why not? I'm sure he could use some help, right now.'' 

She shook her head. ''I'm sorry, (Y/N). He said- John said if you were to come round offering your help, he- he...'' she trailed off, choking on her words. 

''He what, Molly?'' 

''He said he'd ra- rather... He said he'd rather have anyone but you.'' 

Your lips formed a thin line as you stared at the pavement below your feet. ''Oh,'' was all you could say. 

Molly nodded softly and turned around, heading back inside and shutting the door. 

A tear rolled down your face as you turned around and slowly began to walk away. The ache in your chest spread through your entire body as you began to sob. You wrapped your hand around your mouth as you started to run. 

Your heart had shattered to pieces right then and there. Never could you have imagined the encounter would go this way. All your hope and all your faith in ever seeing John again melted like snow in the sun. 

Though, deep down, you understood. Who would ever want to be friends with someone who murdered his wife?

Weeks had passed with no signs of John. You had stopped seeing your therapist and every other human being. You had locked yourself in your flat, not daring to come out and interacting with people. It was a solitary experience, but in your mind, you deserved nothing better than that. 

Mourning Mary had been harder than you thought. You couldn't help but feel anger towards her. She had saved your life, but in the process ruined it, too. You were completely and utterly alone and that was because of her doing. 

Although, you could never stay angry at her for too long. Whenever that agitating feeling would come bubbling to the surface again, it would quickly be followed by a burning sense of guilt and a flood of tears. 

You missed her, and not just her, but the others, too. You wanted to reach out to them, talk to them and go back to the old times, though you were too afraid of what they'd say to you if you did. 

After everything you had been through, one more hurtful and discouraging word would be too much for you to handle. You couldn't take that pain anymore, you didn't want to.

You laid on your sofa, staring at the ceiling. There were no thoughts in your head, just plain emptiness. You couldn't think, you couldn't move. You just felt totally numb and unable to do anything but just lie there. 

''(Y/N), (Y/N)! Open this door immediately!'' 

The sudden loud pounding and harsh voice of John Watson made you tumble to the floor out of fright. You quickly got up and rushed to the door, pulling it open. 

In an instant, John charged inside, frantically looking around until his eyes landed on your shocked form standing next to the door, clutching the side of it. ''Oh, thank goodness,'' he breathed. He took two large strides towards you and enveloped you in a tight embrace, pressing his nose into your hair. 

You hugged him back, but remained confused and unaware as to why John was suddenly holding you after weeks of hating and avoiding you. 

He pulled back. ''You got me really worried for a second there.'' 

''What?'' You asked, confused. 

He gave you the same puzzled expression. ''What do you mean 'what'? Mrs Hudson said you were going to do something. You scared me to death!'' 

''Do what?'' 

He gave you a look. 

''Oh.. Oh! God, no, John. I'd never do that to you.'' You hugged him again and this time kept him close. You had missed his presence, his warm, woollen jumpers and tight embraces so much, and you couldn't help but cry softly as he was finally back. 

''I'm sorry, (Y/N) For everything I said and did. I never truly blamed you for Mary's... you know. I was just upset and heartbroken, and I took it out on you and Sherlock. I shouldn't have, I'm so sorry.'' 

''It's okay, John. I'm just glad you're here.'' You sniffed.

''Me, too,'' he whispered into your hair. ''I'll never abandon you like that again.''