04: Hesitance
Title: Hesitance
Author: phoenix_zeal
Pairing: Sherlock/John
Rating: PG-13
Genre: Angst, Fluff
Disclaimer: I do not make any profit from this.
Beta: Me, Myself and I
Word count: 1331
Summary: Sherlock’s dead eyes are staring emptily while blood streams down his face. It’s too late to save him, it’s always too late. John sits up in bed and gasps.
Warnings: Spoilers for series 2.
Notes: Also posted on AO3. This is a part of the Sherlock/John Dreamverse series. If you'd like to read the previous part(s) you can find them here.
Sherlock’s dead eyes are staring emptily while blood streams down his face. It’s too late to save him, it’s always too late. John sits up in bed and gasps. Even though he knows that Sherlock is alive, the nightmares haven’t stopped. He glances towards the door and gasps again.
“Jesus, Sherlock, you startled me.”
“Hello, John,” Sherlock says, completely unapologetic.
John switches on his table lamp and, when his eyes have adjusted, takes a moment to look at him. Sherlock is in his pants only and he definitely looks better than when John saw him last. His ribs are no longer visible and he looks almost well rested, if not quite.
“You look good,” John says.
“So do you.” Sherlock walks to the bed and sits down, pulling at the comforter to cover his legs.
John just shakes his head; he knows that he doesn’t. The fact that he knows that Sherlock is alive hasn’t made things better. In fact it may have made things worse. When he thought that Sherlock was dead, all he had to do was to somehow keep living, knowing that he’d never see him again.
Now he worries constantly about everything. What if Sherlock dies while he’s out doing whatever he’s doing and no one will tell John about it? What if he’ll never come back? John has more frown lines now.
Sherlock leans closer to him and places a kiss on his lips. Without meaning to, John becomes tense. Sherlock notices and pulls back, a small frown on his face. He looks at John and then realisation dawns.
“Ah, yes, of course,” he says.
“Sherlock-“
“No, John,” Sherlock interrupts him and they look at each other in silence before John nods, understands. “Perhaps I should leave.”
“Why? The dream has only just begun,” John says and the corners of Sherlock’s mouth tilt upwards in a small smile.
“How has your day been?”
“I already know that you don’t want to listen to the boring story of what happened to me today. I know you; you don’t care about stuff like that. You can probably already tell anyway.”
“I care about you,” Sherlock says openly and without hesitation.
It’s probably the first time John has heard Sherlock say anything like it and it floors him a bit. “Really?”
“Of course.” Sherlock frowns and realises why John tensed when he kissed him.
Obviously he knows that John knows that the dreams are actually reality, that part he understood almost immediately. What he didn’t know is that John thinks that Sherlock doesn’t have any deeper feelings for him. Oh, John does know that Sherlock considers him his best friend but more than that? No.
People often assume that Sherlock doesn’t understand emotions. It is true that he sometimes has difficulty comprehending all of the nuances of the feelings of others, and how they place so much weight on sentiment. The assumptions that he fails to understand his own emotions, however, is erroneous. He merely chooses to ignore them most of the time, locks them up in a small dark room of his mind palace and never ventures near. John changed that.
Other people would mostly only hurt him if he didn’t keep his feelings deep inside, untouchable. John has the ability to hurt him too - that is true. However, that small amount of hurt is worth it when John also gives him so much more than that.
He can’t say for sure that he won’t get bored once he’s back. He probably will. Not bored with John, though, never with John. He’ll still be insensitive, selfish, and he’ll never be someone to make romantic gestures, but he’s fairly certain that he could spend the rest of his life with John, one way or another. Best friends, colleagues - partners? It doesn’t matter what people call them or what they call each other. Perhaps he won’t always want to kiss and be close to John in this way, but he will always want him. The problem is that Sherlock is unable to express such things in words.
“John, I would risk my life for you,” he says.
He has, in fact, already died for John. Though this wasn’t the right time to tell him. Later, outside of dreams and fairytales. No, not fairytales, those were Moriarty’s thing. Sherlock hated them.
“What does that even mean?” John asks. “You were willing to risk your life just because you were bored, remember? That pill from the cabbie, the one that could’ve been poison. You constantly risk your life in the most absurd ways.”
“No, that was before you shot the cabbie to save me. Before you became my friend. You don’t understand.”
John simply looks at Sherlock and wonders what he’s talking about. Sherlock looks a bit annoyed but not at John - at himself. It’s not often that he is annoyed about not expressing himself well because to him, he always is and it’s everybody else’s fault if they’re too stupid to understand. It almost makes John think that Sherlock is trying to make a love declaration. Which is ridiculous, of course.
“Why did you do it?” John asks.
“Do what?” Sherlock blinks.
John still has to force out the word, even with Sherlock sitting beside him, very much alive. “Jump.”
Sherlock thinks quickly, he can’t tell the truth because then he’ll break the illusion of this being a dream. They both know it’s real but it’s easier to keep pretending for now. If they don’t, they’ll have to talk about things they don’t have time for at the moment. It’s better to work things through when Sherlock is back for good and they have all the time in the world. He doesn’t understand why John would ask this now.
“A world without Moriarty seemed too boring,” Sherlock says and looks into John’s eyes unblinkingly, as if he can somehow convey that he means John, not Moriarty. “I couldn’t stand to see him dead.”
John knows that Sherlock is lying and he thinks that he can understand why but it still hurts. Hearing that name still never fails to make him rigid with anxiety and fear. When he doesn’t dream about Sherlock’s dead unseeing eyes, he dreams about Moriarty. The dreams are far from pleasant. They’re the worst nightmares he’s ever had. He still half expects Moriarty to come back, to have faked his suicide. If Sherlock could, so could he.
Hearing Sherlock say that he couldn’t stand to live without Moriarty, even if a lie, is almost too much to bear. Sherlock sees the pain on John’s face and wishes he’d come up with a better lie. One that wouldn’t cause so much hurt, but it’s too late now.
“John, please.” Sherlock wants to wrap his arms around John but he hesitates.
“I’m okay, Sherlock,” John says, covering his eyes with his hand. “Really, I’m fine.”
“You are a terrible liar.”
“Unlike you.”
Sherlock almost flinches but manages to keep still. He knows that what he’s doing is necessary, he had to save his friends and he has to take care of what’s left of Moriarty’s web, but he wishes he didn’t have to. All he wants is to stay with John and explain everything to him. The intensity of it is slightly worrying and it makes Sherlock want to take bigger risks to finish sooner. There’s no use if it gets him killed, however, and he knows that he has to stay coolheaded.
“I’m truly sorry, John,” Sherlock says.
He throws caution to the wind and pulls John close to him in a tight embrace. John flails around a bit before he hugs back and Sherlock places kisses on his neck. They hold onto each other for a long time. Eventually dawn threatens to make itself known and Sherlock has to leave before the sun rises. John pretends to sleep as Sherlock walks out of the bedroom. He hopes that next time, neither of them will have to pretend anymore.
---
A/N: Don't have much to say really. I now have an AO3 account and I'm also posting this series over there in case you haven't noticed. Link in the notes above the fic or in the masterpost.
Author: phoenix_zeal
Pairing: Sherlock/John
Rating: PG-13
Genre: Angst, Fluff
Disclaimer: I do not make any profit from this.
Beta: Me, Myself and I
Word count: 1331
Summary: Sherlock’s dead eyes are staring emptily while blood streams down his face. It’s too late to save him, it’s always too late. John sits up in bed and gasps.
Warnings: Spoilers for series 2.
Notes: Also posted on AO3. This is a part of the Sherlock/John Dreamverse series. If you'd like to read the previous part(s) you can find them here.
Sherlock’s dead eyes are staring emptily while blood streams down his face. It’s too late to save him, it’s always too late. John sits up in bed and gasps. Even though he knows that Sherlock is alive, the nightmares haven’t stopped. He glances towards the door and gasps again.
“Jesus, Sherlock, you startled me.”
“Hello, John,” Sherlock says, completely unapologetic.
John switches on his table lamp and, when his eyes have adjusted, takes a moment to look at him. Sherlock is in his pants only and he definitely looks better than when John saw him last. His ribs are no longer visible and he looks almost well rested, if not quite.
“You look good,” John says.
“So do you.” Sherlock walks to the bed and sits down, pulling at the comforter to cover his legs.
John just shakes his head; he knows that he doesn’t. The fact that he knows that Sherlock is alive hasn’t made things better. In fact it may have made things worse. When he thought that Sherlock was dead, all he had to do was to somehow keep living, knowing that he’d never see him again.
Now he worries constantly about everything. What if Sherlock dies while he’s out doing whatever he’s doing and no one will tell John about it? What if he’ll never come back? John has more frown lines now.
Sherlock leans closer to him and places a kiss on his lips. Without meaning to, John becomes tense. Sherlock notices and pulls back, a small frown on his face. He looks at John and then realisation dawns.
“Ah, yes, of course,” he says.
“Sherlock-“
“No, John,” Sherlock interrupts him and they look at each other in silence before John nods, understands. “Perhaps I should leave.”
“Why? The dream has only just begun,” John says and the corners of Sherlock’s mouth tilt upwards in a small smile.
“How has your day been?”
“I already know that you don’t want to listen to the boring story of what happened to me today. I know you; you don’t care about stuff like that. You can probably already tell anyway.”
“I care about you,” Sherlock says openly and without hesitation.
It’s probably the first time John has heard Sherlock say anything like it and it floors him a bit. “Really?”
“Of course.” Sherlock frowns and realises why John tensed when he kissed him.
Obviously he knows that John knows that the dreams are actually reality, that part he understood almost immediately. What he didn’t know is that John thinks that Sherlock doesn’t have any deeper feelings for him. Oh, John does know that Sherlock considers him his best friend but more than that? No.
People often assume that Sherlock doesn’t understand emotions. It is true that he sometimes has difficulty comprehending all of the nuances of the feelings of others, and how they place so much weight on sentiment. The assumptions that he fails to understand his own emotions, however, is erroneous. He merely chooses to ignore them most of the time, locks them up in a small dark room of his mind palace and never ventures near. John changed that.
Other people would mostly only hurt him if he didn’t keep his feelings deep inside, untouchable. John has the ability to hurt him too - that is true. However, that small amount of hurt is worth it when John also gives him so much more than that.
He can’t say for sure that he won’t get bored once he’s back. He probably will. Not bored with John, though, never with John. He’ll still be insensitive, selfish, and he’ll never be someone to make romantic gestures, but he’s fairly certain that he could spend the rest of his life with John, one way or another. Best friends, colleagues - partners? It doesn’t matter what people call them or what they call each other. Perhaps he won’t always want to kiss and be close to John in this way, but he will always want him. The problem is that Sherlock is unable to express such things in words.
“John, I would risk my life for you,” he says.
He has, in fact, already died for John. Though this wasn’t the right time to tell him. Later, outside of dreams and fairytales. No, not fairytales, those were Moriarty’s thing. Sherlock hated them.
“What does that even mean?” John asks. “You were willing to risk your life just because you were bored, remember? That pill from the cabbie, the one that could’ve been poison. You constantly risk your life in the most absurd ways.”
“No, that was before you shot the cabbie to save me. Before you became my friend. You don’t understand.”
John simply looks at Sherlock and wonders what he’s talking about. Sherlock looks a bit annoyed but not at John - at himself. It’s not often that he is annoyed about not expressing himself well because to him, he always is and it’s everybody else’s fault if they’re too stupid to understand. It almost makes John think that Sherlock is trying to make a love declaration. Which is ridiculous, of course.
“Why did you do it?” John asks.
“Do what?” Sherlock blinks.
John still has to force out the word, even with Sherlock sitting beside him, very much alive. “Jump.”
Sherlock thinks quickly, he can’t tell the truth because then he’ll break the illusion of this being a dream. They both know it’s real but it’s easier to keep pretending for now. If they don’t, they’ll have to talk about things they don’t have time for at the moment. It’s better to work things through when Sherlock is back for good and they have all the time in the world. He doesn’t understand why John would ask this now.
“A world without Moriarty seemed too boring,” Sherlock says and looks into John’s eyes unblinkingly, as if he can somehow convey that he means John, not Moriarty. “I couldn’t stand to see him dead.”
John knows that Sherlock is lying and he thinks that he can understand why but it still hurts. Hearing that name still never fails to make him rigid with anxiety and fear. When he doesn’t dream about Sherlock’s dead unseeing eyes, he dreams about Moriarty. The dreams are far from pleasant. They’re the worst nightmares he’s ever had. He still half expects Moriarty to come back, to have faked his suicide. If Sherlock could, so could he.
Hearing Sherlock say that he couldn’t stand to live without Moriarty, even if a lie, is almost too much to bear. Sherlock sees the pain on John’s face and wishes he’d come up with a better lie. One that wouldn’t cause so much hurt, but it’s too late now.
“John, please.” Sherlock wants to wrap his arms around John but he hesitates.
“I’m okay, Sherlock,” John says, covering his eyes with his hand. “Really, I’m fine.”
“You are a terrible liar.”
“Unlike you.”
Sherlock almost flinches but manages to keep still. He knows that what he’s doing is necessary, he had to save his friends and he has to take care of what’s left of Moriarty’s web, but he wishes he didn’t have to. All he wants is to stay with John and explain everything to him. The intensity of it is slightly worrying and it makes Sherlock want to take bigger risks to finish sooner. There’s no use if it gets him killed, however, and he knows that he has to stay coolheaded.
“I’m truly sorry, John,” Sherlock says.
He throws caution to the wind and pulls John close to him in a tight embrace. John flails around a bit before he hugs back and Sherlock places kisses on his neck. They hold onto each other for a long time. Eventually dawn threatens to make itself known and Sherlock has to leave before the sun rises. John pretends to sleep as Sherlock walks out of the bedroom. He hopes that next time, neither of them will have to pretend anymore.
---
A/N: Don't have much to say really. I now have an AO3 account and I'm also posting this series over there in case you haven't noticed. Link in the notes above the fic or in the masterpost.