Sherlock Holmes: A Study in Life

Chapter 17

I thoroughly enjoyed writing this chapter.

John's P.O.V.

I awoke to the sound of the kettle boiling and rolled over to squint at the alarm clock on my bedside table. It was quarter to three in the morning, why was someone making drinks? Groggily, I hoisted myself from the comfort of my bed, put my slippers and dressing gown on and meandered downstairs to see what was going on. It was far too early for this. 

Once I got to the kitchen I was greeted with the sight of Sherlock sat at the table staring emptily into a mug of, what I guessed to be, coffee in his blue robe. Something was wrong.

"Sherlock, what are you doing up? It's nearly three in the morning." I stated. All I got in return was a vacant, blood-shot gaze before he diverted his eyes back to his beverage. "What's wrong?"

"Why does something have to be wrong? There's nothing wrong."

"Clearly." I replied, sitting across from him with my hands clasped together on the table top. We sat in silence for a moment before I said "Is this something to do with Sarah; why you sent her away?". He'd been acting funny ever since she'd left and that was three days ago, well, four if you count three A.M as a new day. He got frustrated on every case, he was distracted; kept looking around as if he were looking for someone and whenever I went out I'd come back to find him sat in his chair staring blankly at a wall or stood at the window with his eyes fixated on Sarah's flat.

"No." he replied dully

"Yes it is." I knew it was, Sherlock was just afraid to admit it.

"I've made a mistake John." Sherlock said after a few seconds, he still hadn't lifted his head.

"Sorry, did you just say you've made a mistake? The great Sherlock Holmes has made a mistake?"

"Yes, I've made a mistake."

"Is that why you've been acting up?". Instead of replying, he gave a reluctant nod. "What have you done that's so bad you have to deprive yourself of sleep?"

"How do you know that?"

"I'm a doctor; I may not be a genius but I'm not an idiot either. You've been temperamental as hell for the past few days and this all started when Mycroft took Sarah so why don't you tell me why your brother has actually taken her to live with him."

"I- I don't know what's come over me. I panicked." Sherlock sniffled before lifting his head from his cup and staring at me with a tear stained face and eyes that could rival a Labrador puppy's. Tear drops dripped from his chin and into his drink, making little splashing sounds as they hit the surface. "I'm scared, John."

"Why? What could you possibly be scared of?" I asked. He was ready to pull the trigger on a gun in order to blow us all up a few weeks ago and he didn't quiver. What could be worse than that?

"I think..." he paused for a moment, swallowed and looked me directly in the eyes when he said "I think I'm in love.".

My jaw dropped and I couldn't actually find words to say but somehow I managed to quietly push

"What?" out of my mouth

"I made a deal with Mycroft for him to take Sarah away from me until I could handle my emotions but I- I- I can't, John. I don't know what to do. I've never felt anything like this before. This is all so new to me."

"Okay," I said once I'd actually managed to wrap my head around what was happening, "Okay, Sherlock, calm down. Something has to have happened between you two for you to be this shaken up about it, so why don't you tell me what happened when I wasn't here. Fill in the gaps for me."

"Well, when me and Sarah figured out what killed Carl Powers, before all of the swimming pool stuff happened, we played a game where we asked each other questions to get to know each other better and I found out about her childhood and her school life; when she was telling me about her being bullied because of her intelligence I- I felt sorry for her and I hugged her because I know what that's like. Then I taught her how to locate places around London using soil samples and she was very good at it," Sherlock smirked as he recalled the memory, "And when we'd finished I tidied away and while she was washing her cup I looked at her- the way the light shone on her hair, the clothes she was wearing, the way she didn't know how beautiful she was- both inside and out- and I was suddenly overcome with this urge to hold onto her and never let go. I wanted to protect her from the world. The next thing I know I'm stood right in front of her, kissing her.". If my jaw could have detached and hit the floor it would have. Sherlock Holmes not only has feelings but actually knows how to kiss.

"Sorry, you kissed her?" I was overcome with shock

"Yes but then I didn't know what to do, I got scared so, after the whole fiasco with Moriarty, I called Mycroft and asked him if he'd take her far enough away from me that I would stop feeling things for her but it turns out that taking her away only makes me want her more."

"Right." I mumbled.

"I don't know what to do now. I've hurt her by pushing her away."

"How do you know that? You haven't seen her since Monday."

"She's sent me a text every night at exactly ten o'clock, here." Sherlock offered me his phone and I took it in both hands, reading the writing on screen. All of the texts were from Sarah, Sherlock hadn't replied to anything:

I hope you're happy.

Why won't you talk to me?

Sherlock, what did I do?

SHERLOCK! Speak to me! Please...

"Sherlock, I really think you should talk to her. Being apart is doing no good for either of you." I said, handing him his phone back.

"I know but I don't know what to say..."

"How about 'I'm sorry'? 'Come back to Baker Street'? 'I love you'?"

Sherlock sighed heavily

"I don't know..."

"Well you'd better know, because this deal with Mycroft isn't going to last forever. She's going to come back and she's going have questions so you'd better start thinking of answers."