chlari-fari-blog

[chlari-fari-blog]

Don’t loose your key

Title: Don't loose your key

Author: chlari-fari

Fandom: Sherlock BBC Series

Pairing: Johnlock (John/Sherlock)

Warning: none, except maybe a bit sadness (idk..?)

Summary: “And don't loose the key.” It was the last message John had received from Sherlock before he disappeared. Seven months later, the army doctor visits the flat again. AU in which Sherlock mysteriously disappears (not Reichenbach!) /short fluffy oneshot/

Note: So ok, this is my first fan fiction ever to be published * sweats nervously * I wrote it a while ago and found it on my computer again so I decided to share it online. Hope you enjoy and constructive critic is always wanted! (also I'm no native english so please say it when my punctuation or anything else is wrong c:)

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-Take care of Mrs Hudson. SH

-And don't loose your key.

John's POV

My breathing was too fast when I pushed the door open with such force that it crashed into the wall behind, leaving a loud noise in the silent flat. Everything looked like it always did, but still, something was wrong. Something was different and I could hear it although the blood was still rushing through his ears. The silence. It didn't seem to fit in this place, where always was the noise of someone talking, the telly or just the sound of footsteps on the carpet, when Sherlock walked around while thinking about a case. Sherlock. What has happened to him? Why did he sent these messages? Cold fear stroke me and a shiver ran down my back while I tried not to imagine what might have happened. That he might be hurt, that he might be... worse than hurt. No, I am not allowed to think like that, I told myself harshly. I couldn't even bear the thought of loosing him, of having to live without him. Would I be able to to do that..? Just, keep living without my best friend? It would be impossible, I think. He's got such a big effect on me that without him, I simply wouldn't be me anymore. If he'd be gone, a piece of me would be missing too. He completes me. And I know this sounds soppy.. but isn't it the truth? The reason why thinking of him disappearing was so hurtful? That I could never see his unique eyes anymore? Or those dark curls, which I always wanted to touch and nearly did, when he was in his mind palace once? “Sherlock!”, I screamed his name, furiously rushing through the empty rooms. He was gone.

Seven months later, I visited his flat again. A hot, salty tear slid down my cheek, dropping onto the floor. A single one, the only one that left my eyes. When my knees stopped working, I slid down, now sitting in the doorframe and staring at the empty flat, which used to be mine too. Which I still had the key for. 221B, where so many things had happened and which couldn't be the address of someone else but Sherlock Holmes, the consulting detective. The only one in the world, and his friend and blogger John Watson. The thought crossed my mind before I could even really think about it. Sherlock Holmes and John Watson.. didn't our names sounded so right together? The incredible name of this genius even made the ordinary name of an army doctor sound good. Still not incredible, but acceptable. Myself, I hated my name. It was so ordinary, not awakening any special memories about the man who wore it. Well, Sherlock Holmes was the kind of name that stayed in mind, that people recognized and associated to something, that was unique, just like it's owner. “No one will remember a John Watson”, I mumbled to myself as I let my gaze fall to my fingers. No one. “I will.” This couldn't be. The soft barritone voice that that came from my back couldn't be someone elses and as I turned around to look at him, standing at the last staircase with a cup of coffee in his right hand and looking down at me calmly, only one thought left my lips as I worked myself up to wrap my hands around his middle, pressing my face onto his chest. “You bastard.” I felt his confusion about the hug, but instead of pushing me away he laid his arm around me as well, while the other still held the coffee. I could even feel, that he slightly put his chin to rest on my head and could feel his throat vibrate as he began to speak. “John...” he let his voice trail off. “I'm sorry.” “I- I thought you were...” The words seemed to stuck in my throat, unable to be spoken aloud. “The flat was empty for seven months, Sherlock. Please... never do this to me again.” I hold him a bit tighter, to be sure he wasn't a just a product of my imagination. It didn't seem to bother him. “I'm so sorry John.”, he repeated himself and pulled me back, still letting his hand rest on my shoulder while he looked me straight in the eyes. They felt puffy and red, and when I realized this, I tried to step away from him, burying my face into my palms. How embarrassing, I thought to myself. To have him seeing you like this. Suddenly, the sound of a mug shattering on the floor made me look up, removing my hands from my face, when in the same moment his long fingers closed around my cheek, forcing me to look in his eyes, which made my heart beating faster. It was so loud, he had to be hearing it and it even got louder and louder the closer he came. There were only a few inches between our faces and I could feel his warm breath brushing softly against my skin, sending a shiver down my back. What happened here? What am I doing and why so suddenly? And didn't it seem to bother me at all, being so close to my best friend? Being so close to a man?! I mean, I wasn't even g- My thoughts stopped I the moment as his warm lips softly brushed mine and my eyes closed to concentrate on the feeling of warmth that suddenly flooded through my body, making my skin prickle as I begin to slightly move my lips with his. Without thinking I slung my arms around his neck, softly pulling him down to kiss him deeper. I did never know how much I had wanted to kiss him. But how should I have known this? I did never expect that his kisses would be so... perfect. Or was it just the fact that this was Sherlock Holmes, who was kissing me? Me, the ordinary John? Suddenly, it hit me, right in the heart. Why would he do that? He even thought that love was a disadvantage, so there could be only one other reason, which sounded more like Sherlock Holmes than the other one. Finally, I took a step back, my eyes still shut. “Please tell me this is not one of your experiments.” As I opened my eyes, his look was surprised. “Why would I do that?” “Because you are Sherlock Holmes. You would make an experiment out of bloody everything.” He was silent for a moment. “Not, when it is about you, John. You are my friend.” “Friends don't kiss in the hallway.” My answer was lame, but he smiled at me the way you just couldn't ignore.” He reaches out to take my hand in his gently, as he leads me through the door. “Then come in.” He kissed me again right in the moment the door closed behind me and I had to use my full mental force to push him away from me. “This is not what I meant, Sherlock.” His hand was still holding mine and I started to stare at it. “What is this?” The question left my mouth quickly as I lifted my gaze to hold his. “I don't now.”, he said honestly and pulled me closer, making my heartbeat fasten again. “But I want to find out.” His green-blue eyes still held mine, waiting and not moving until I finally did the last step and closed the distance between our lips. The feeling was as amazing as it was the first time, if not better and I decided not to think about it to much. Not to ruin it with stupid guesses. So I just let myself go in the feeling that flooded through my veins, making my blood turn to fluent fire and warming my whole body, seeming to set my heart aflame.