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Thank you so much for 13,5K, everyone! It means so much to me that people still read my silly oneshots. I hope you all enjoy this one, as well.
Have an amazing day!
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''What brings you here, (Y/N)?'' Your therapist asked.
You swallowed thickly, staring at your feet as tears threatened to spill. ''I- I...'' You couldn't get the words out of your mouth.
''You can say it, (Y/N). This is a safe place,'' she assured you.
You nodded, biting your lip as you finally dared to look into her eyes. ''I- I killed my best friend's wife.''
Tears slid down your cheeks as you stared out the window, rain softly tapping against the spotlessly clean glass. The memory of that fatal night last week came rushing to the surface and the images flashed in front of your eyes.
It had been an innocent investigation at first, but as quickly as it had started, it turned into a whirlwind of action, betrayal and undiscovered secrets. It was intense and you all got so caught up in the mystery that enveloped Mary ever since she left her old life.
After drugging Sherlock, she had fled, trying to save those she cared for. However, as she should've been aware of, the infamous, genius detective wasn't about to just give up because some woman told him to. He tracked her down, quite easily, too. And that's when it all went wrong.
You began solving the case together. Mary, John, Sherlock and you were all in on the game to figure out who was trying to kill Mary and threatened her loved ones. It took you to an aquarium late at night.
A night you'd never forget for as long as you lived.
The woman, a former boss of Mary's, had pulled out a gun and aimed it at Sherlock. You didn't think twice to push him back as you saw her finger twitching on the trigger. You jumped in front of him as a loud bang filled the atmosphere. You had been prepared to die, prepared to save his life and do some good for the world. But Mary had different ideas.
Before anyone realised what she was doing, she had pushed you and Sherlock out of the bullet's striking area. And as if time had begun to slow down, the bullet struck her in her stomach and she fell to the floor, clutching the bleeding wound.
John had been by her side in seconds. And you had all been so confused and taken back by the sudden activities that you didn't even notice that the shooter had fled the scene.
You and Sherlock stared at the married couple as Mary took her last breaths. John had screamed and cried, yelling at you how you should have done something. But what could you have done? You hadn't been aware of what she was thinking. You were supposed to die that night, you had been ready to do so in order to save your friends. But Mary took measures into her own hands and took that opportunity away from you.
She died because you didn't realise how prepared she was to do whatever it took to keep her friends and husband safe from harm. You had killed her, and now, John would never want to see you again. He hated you, resented you for killing his wife.
It destroyed you from the inside out. Nowhere to go, no one to help. You were all alone now and you had no clue what the results of your actions that night were going to be.
''Blaming yourself for someone else's act isn't going to get you any further, (Y/N),'' Ella said. ''Losing a loved one is tough, and remorse isn't going to help your mourning process. You have to move on, admit that this wasn't your fault, so you can mourn in peace.''
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.''