Unbreakable

221B Baker Street, London

“Sherlock, where are you?” John asks, carrying little Rosie in his arms. Normally Sherlock would be looking after her at this time, but when John had just gotten home, he had found her with Mrs. Hudson. Apparently Sherlock had left Rosie with her without an explanation.
“Sherlock!”
“What?” Sherlock asks, his head peeping out of his bedroom.
“Why was Rosie with Mrs. Hudson? Did something happen?”
“No. Yes,” Sherlock says, and he disappears into his bedroom again. John takes a deep breath, and goes up to the bedroom door. It is open, and when he looks into the room, he finds Sherlock’s bed covered in clothes.
“What happened? Why couldn’t you look after her?”
“Oh, she loves Mrs. Hudson.”
“That is not the point, Sherlock. I go to work, expecting you to look after my daughter. And then I come home, and you have left her… Sherlock, will you stop looking at your clothes?” John snaps, and Sherlock looks up.
“Yes, yes. Mrs. Hudson can’t look after Rosie anymore. I get it.”
“She can, and I am perfectly fine with her looking after Rosie when it’s an emergency, or if you have a case, but… what is going on?”
“I have a date,” Sherlock says, and John nearly drops Rosie, who is starting to get impatient in his arms.
“You have a… a what? With… I’m sorry. You have a date?” John asks.
“Yes. A date. I’m afraid I can’t tell you who with.”
“It’s Irene Adler, isn’t it?” John asks, “But… a date? You are going on an actual date?”
“Yes, John, I am going on a date. Didn’t I just tell you that?”
“You did, but wow. Sherlock Holmes, going on a date… I did not think I would ever see that happen,” John laughs. “That is the emergency? Why you brought Rosie to Mrs. Hudson? Because you were picking out clothes for a date?”
“Yes. I am afraid so. Perhaps not that much of an emergency. But like I said, Rosie loves Mrs. Hudson. And I didn’t think you’d mind.”
“No, it’s fine,” John laughs. “Do you need my help?”
“I would appreciate it. Thank you, John,” Sherlock says, and John leaves the room to go and grab some of Rosie’s toys, still laughing to himself. Sherlock Holmes, out on a date.

“No, I don’t think it’ll do,” Sherlock says, and John rolls his eyes, getting irritated. Rosie is still sitting in the corner of the room, playing with her toys, but he can see that she is getting tired. So is he. Sherlock has tried on just about every outfit that John has suggested, but he has found fault with every single one of them.
“If she fancies you, she won’t care what you’re wearing, Sherlock. And if she really fancies you, you won’t be wearing it for long anyway,” John says, trying to make light of it all. But Sherlock just gives him a confused look, and John sighs.
“I give up. Just wear what you would normally wear if you were to go out to dinner with a friend. Nothing fancy. Just wear what you are comfortable in.”
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” John says, and he quickly picks up Rosie and leaves the room before Sherlock can ask him another question about his outfit.

221B Baker Street, London

“Wow, don’t you look handsome?” Mrs. Hudson says, when she enters the apartment.
“Sherlock has a date,” John says, and Mrs. Hudson lets out a chuckle. But when she sees that he isn’t kidding, she looks confused.
“Really?”
“Yes,” Sherlock answers, as he puts on his face. “Now if you’ll excuse me.”
“Who is the lucky boy?” Mrs. Hudson asks, and John can’t help but laugh. “Fine, or girl?”
“He won’t say. But I think it’s Irene Adler.”
“Oh, really?” Mrs. Hudson asks, looking disappointed. “That’s… nice. Well, you go out and enjoy yourself, Sherlock.”
“I will. Thank you,” Sherlock says, and without saying another word, he leaves the apartment. Mrs. Hudson looks at John, and sighs.
“I don’t think this Irene Adler is good enough for him,” she says, and she can see the slightly irritated look on John’s face.
“Well… If he likes her…” he says, but then he speaks his mind. “But no, I don’t think so either. I know that I said he should text her, but I did not think they would actually meet up and go out on a date.”
“John?” Mrs. Hudson asks, and he looks at her. “I reckon you’re a little bit jealous.”
“What?”
“I really do.”
“Jealous? I don’t like Sherlock,” John laughs, and Mrs. Hudson gets a small smile on her face.
“I didn’t say you did. Maybe I meant that you were jealous he had a date, and you didn’t.”
“But…”
“But it’s good to know that you don’t like Sherlock,” Mrs. Hudson interrupts him, not giving him a chance to try and explain. She flashes a smile, and leaves the apartment. John sighs, and looks down at Rosie, who is playing with one of the toys Sherlock had bought for her. He can’t help but smile, as he joins her.

“How was your date?” John asks, looking up from his laptop.
“It was fine.”
“Fine? What did you do? Did you go out for dinner? Did you take her to go see a movie?” John asks, trying to get Sherlock to talk about it. But Sherlock just sits down in his chair, and looks straight ahead of him. “Did you kiss her?”
“John…”
“Yes?”
“Do shut up.”

Regent’s Park, London

It’s been a few days, and John keeps wondering about Sherlock’s date. But Sherlock won’t talk about it. He still hasn’t confirmed whether it was Irene Adler or not. Who else would it be? Has Sherlock met someone else? Who is it? Is he dating Molly? It keeps playing on John’s mind.
They are now at the park with Rosie, enjoying a day off. Rosie is in her father’s arms, throwing pieces of bread at the ducks, and Sherlock is looking at the little girl with a proud look on his face.
“Sherlock?”
“Yes?”
“Have you ever been in love?” John asks, and Sherlock looks away from Rosie, and up at her father.
“Why?”
“Just wondering,” John says. “Or have you ever been in a relationship? Would you like to one day get married and settle down?” he adds, but Sherlock just looks away, at the water. “This date, do you think it will lead to more dates?
“I…,” Sherlock begins, but then he stops himself.
“Why don’t you ever speak about things like this?”
“Because it isn’t relevant.”
“Not relevant? But… Sherlock, you are my best friend, we are living together, you are helping me with Rosie… Of course it is relevant if you are in love with someone. If you need me to move out so you can be with this person, then…”
“Of course not,” Sherlock interrupts him. “John, I… I am not like you.”
“Well, we all know that,” John laughs awkwardly.
“What you had, with Mary… I am not like you.”
“You can’t fall in love?” John asks. “Or you won’t allow yourself to fall in love?”
“Can we not talk about this?”
“Because if you won’t allow yourself to feel it, then you need to stop it, Sherlock. I know that you are still angry with yourself for everything that has happened, with Mary, with Moriarty, with Euros… But you cannot punish yourself like this. You deserve to be happy. You deserve to have love in your life.”
“Thank you.”
“I mean it, Sherlock.”
“I know,” Sherlock says, and he flashes a small smile, before looking back at little Rosie, who has run out of bread, and who is now staring at the ducks, her eyes full of amazement.

221B Baker Street, London

“Well, he sure as hell was a lot stronger than he looked,” John says, as he and Sherlock are coming up the stairs. John has a bloody lip, and his eye is throbbing. He can feel that it will be black by tomorrow. But Sherlock has it worse. He has a wound on his cheek, a wound on his chest, his nose is bleeding, and one of his eyes is swollen shut.
“Yes. Well… We got him,” Sherlock says, as they enter the apartment.
“How did you know that it was him, anyway?”
“It was easy. His wife said he had been to Hawaii three years ago, his laptop…,” Sherlock begins, and he continues as John grabs a cloth and covers it in warm water. The running water drowning Sherlock’s speech, until John turns the water back off. “…and Molly studied him at the restaurant. That’s when I knew he…”
“You and Molly went to a restaurant together?” John asks.
“Yes.”
“Was this your date, a few weeks ago?”
“Yes.”
“Your date was for a case?” John asks, laughing. “It wasn’t a real date?”
“No. I never said it was, did I? I just said I was going on a date.”
“Then why the fuss about the outfit.”
“I had to look the part,” Sherlock says, and John can’t help but laugh. But then Sherlock looks like he is in pain, and he pulls away his shirt, revealing the wound on his chest. It is deeper than they had thought at first. John looks worried, and he comes up to him with the cloth. He puts it on Sherlock’s chest, pressing it down hard.
“Sherlock?” John asks, a serious look on his face.
“Yes?”
“I am about to do something. I don’t want you to freak out, or be angry with me, but I have to do this. Because if I don’t, I fear I will regret it,” John says, and Sherlock looks confused, and worried. But he doesn’t move away. He is worried, but he knows that John won’t hurt him. Not on purpose anyway. John gives a little nod, before pressing his lips against those of his best friend. Sherlock doesn’t move, he simply stands there, letting it happen, while John is still pressing down the cloth against his bleeding chest. John eventually takes a step back, and lets go of the cloth, which falls down to the floor.
“Sherlock, I…”
“Please don’t.”
“But…”
“Don’t,” Sherlock says, and without saying another word, he leaves the apartment, storming down the stairs.
“Sherlock, please!” John yells after him, but Sherlock won’t stop. He storms out, slamming the door behind him. “Sherlock!”
“What is going on?” Mrs. Hudson asks, looking irritated. “Why all the noise? Rosie is asleep.”
“I’m sorry Mrs. Hudson,” John says, standing at the top of the stairs, looking down at her.
“What happened?”
“I kissed him,” John states, matter of factly, and Mrs. Hudson lets out a sigh.
“Oh John…”
“I know, I shouldn’t have done that.”
“Yes, you should have. But you know Sherlock. He just needs some time to process this. Just give him some time, dear. I’m sure he’ll be back before you know it.”
“Yeah… I don’t think that will be the case this time.”

221B Baker Street, London

It’s been a few weeks, but Sherlock hasn’t been back. John hasn’t heard a word from him, so he assumes that Sherlock is angry. That he has officially messed up their friendship. So he has decided to move out with Rosie, so Sherlock can come back.
“Oh, John, can’t you two work this out?” Mrs. Hudson tries, but John shakes his head.
“I’m afraid not, Mrs. Hudson. It is obvious that Sherlock is angry with me. So I am moving out, so he won’t have to see me anymore.”
“But he loves you.”
“No, he definitely does not,” John laughs. “And that is perfectly fine. Sherlock is… It is fine. We will still come and see you, Mrs. Hudson.”
“Oh, why are you so bloody stubborn?” she says, and she storms out of the room, down the stairs. John sighs, and continues packing. This afternoon they are leaving 221B Baker Street. And even though he had moved out before, this time it feels different. Because this time he is also leaving Sherlock. And it hurts.

“Ah, yes. I heard that you were leaving,” Mycroft says, when he enters the apartment.
“Did Mrs. Hudson call you?”
“She did. She thinks, well, we both think you are making a mistake.”
“I am not. And no offence, but you don’t know what is going on. So please mind your own business.”
“You are in love with my brother, you kissed him, he didn’t know what to do, and he ran off. Of course I know what is going on.”
“And you know where Sherlock is?”
“Do you need to ask?” Mycroft smirks.
“Is he okay?” John asks. “Does he know that he can come back?”
“Well, okay is not how I would describe my dear brother. You of course know about his substance issues?”
“Yes, of course.”
“I am afraid that if you were to leave, that… let’s just say, it would not be good for him.”
“Are you trying to make me feel guilty about leaving? You can’t blackmail me into staying,” John says, and Mycroft shrugs.
“I wouldn’t call it blackmail. Rather, letting you know what is going to happen if you leave.”
“So you’re saying that if I leave, Sherlock’s addiction will get worse again?”
“Yes, I am afraid so,” Mycroft says.
“You cannot put that on me. His addiction has nothing to do with me, Mycroft. He was an addict before he had ever met me. So don’t you dare put that on me.”
“I am afraid you fail to see how important you are to my brother. Well, they do say that love makes blind, so…”
“Please don’t mock me,” John says, getting irritated. “I can’t help how I feel. Now, I am sorry that I acted upon my feelings, alright? And I am sorry for hurting Sherlock. But I never meant to hurt him. And I am leaving to protect him.”
“You have no idea, do you?”
“No idea about what?” John asks, his blood boiling by now. He really wants to punch Mycroft in the face. He can’t stand his arrogance anymore. Not on top of all of this.
“My brother has been in love with you since the moment you met,” Mycroft then says, but John shakes his head, looking confused.
“No, he hasn’t. He told me, he can’t fall in love.”
“He won’t allow himself to feel it,” Mycroft explains. “But we have all seen it. The way he looks at you, the things he’ll do to protect you.”
“He is my best friend, and I am his.”
“No, this is more. I know my brother, and he may pretend he doesn’t feel, and he may try to push those feelings down, or to the back of his mind palace, or whatever it is that he does with them, but he feels so much. I can see it. And believe me when I say, that if you were to leave, it would kill him.”
“No, this is some kind of trick. Sherlock doesn’t love. And he especially doesn’t love me. I don’t know what kind of trick this is, but it isn’t nice to mess with my feelings. So leave, Mycroft.”
“God, you really are an idiot, are you?” Mycroft asks, looking irritated. “But just think about what I said.”
“Fine. If what you say is true, and he loves me. Then where is he? Why did he run? Huh?”
“Because he is scared, you idiot. He hasn’t allowed himself to feel it for all these years. Not only to protect himself, but to protect you. To protect your friendship. And here you are, forcing him to face it.”
“No. Get out,” John says, and Mycroft rolls his eyes, but doesn’t move. “Get out!”
“John…”
“Get out!” John yells, and without saying another word, Mycroft leaves the apartment. John feels slightly sick. Because what if Mycroft was telling the truth? What if Sherlock does love him? But then where is he?

“Come on, let’s go,” John says, as he leans down to pick up Rosie.
“Please stay,” Mrs. Hudson tries, but John knows that he has to leave. “He’ll come back. I know it.”
“He will. Once I’m gone. But can you please do one thing for me?”
“What?”
“Will you please look after him?” John asks, and Mrs. Hudson nods. She takes Rosie from John’s arms, to give her a cuddle.
“You can’t leave,” a voice says, and both John and Mrs. Hudson jump up. Sherlock is standing in the doorway.
“Sherlock, what the…”
“I’ll leave you boys to it,” Mrs. Hudson says, and she leaves the apartment with Rosie.
“You can’t leave, John.”
“I thought you would want me to go,” John explains. “Where the hell have you been all this time?”
“With Molly,” Sherlock admits, and John sighs. He had been calling her, asking for Sherlock, and she had lied to him. She had told him that Sherlock wasn’t there.
“Look, I am sorry for what I did, Sherlock. But I am not going to lie. I have these feelings, and…”
“I know,” Sherlock interrupts him.
“That is why I can’t stay. Because they are not just going to go away. And I am sorry, okay? I am sorry for messing things up, but I can’t help this.”
“I know,” Sherlock says again. “And neither can I,” he then adds, and John looks confused.
“Can’t help what?”
“Having these feelings,” Sherlock admits, but he looks as though it physically hurts to say the words. “I have tried to get rid of them, but they are still here.”
“Mycroft wasn’t lying?” John says to himself, trying to grasp his head around all of this.
“No, I am afraid not.”
“You know what Mycroft said?”
“Oh, yes, Mrs. Hudson told me.”
“Mrs. Hudson knows what Mycroft said?” John asks, now looking even more confused.
“Yes, she was listening in. So she called Molly to tell her, and Molly told me.”
“Mrs. Hudson knew where you were?”
“Yes,” Sherlock says, and John laughs to himself. This situation is bizarre, and he feels like his head might explode. “But no, Mycroft was not lying.”
“So you…,” John says, but then he takes a deep breath. “You like me?”
“Yes.”
“More than you would like a friend?”
“Yes,” Sherlock simply states. But John knows how huge it is for him to admit this, and he can’t help but smile.
“Sherlock?” John then asks. “Does this mean that I can kiss you?”
“I suppose it does.”
“Will you kiss me back this time?”
“I think I will,” Sherlock says, and a cheeky smile appears on his face. John goes up to him, but then he stops himself, because this is awkward. Here he is, about this kiss his best friend. Sherlock Holmes. But then Sherlock pushes John towards the door, and he pushes him against it.
“Ouch,” John says, his back actually hurting.
“Sorry about that,” Sherlock says. He then smiles, and he presses his lips against John’s. John kisses him back, while Sherlock is still pushing him back against the door.
“Wow,” John then says. “You’re a good kisser.”
“Yes,” Sherlock says, and John can’t help but laugh. Sherlock kisses him again, now taking one hand off his chest, down towards the edge of John’s jeans.
“Holy, mother of…,” John says, when Sherlock stops kissing him, to look down to open John’s jeans, and slide it down, together with his pants. And when John feels Sherlock’s hand wrap around him, he closes his eyes. Sherlock sees it, and a big smirk appears on his face. He starts moving his hand, and a small sound escapes from John’s throat. Sherlock quickly silences him by kissing him again. And within a matter of seconds, another sound escapes from John’s throat, one that can’t be silenced. He struggles to catch his breath, as he rests his head against Sherlock’s chest.
“Where the hell did you learn to do that?” he eventually asks, and Sherlock can’t help but smile.
“Well, I don’t always tell you everything.”
“Seriously…,” John says, his heart still racing. Sherlock gives him a quick kiss, on the top of the head, before moving away to wash his hands. John pulls up his pants and jeans, and closes the buttons again. He takes a step away from the door, to look at Sherlock, in the kitchen. He is flushed, and shocked, and confused. But happy. He sees Sherlock in a completely different light now, and he can’t wait to explore this further. But then the door opens, and Mrs. Hudson comes in.
“Ah, I’m so glad you boys made up,” she says, but John is mortified, and he jumps up. “I just wanted to let you know that Rosie will be staying with me for the night. And ehm… we’ll be out for a little while. Just so you know,” she says, and she gives a little wink.
“Yes, thank you, Mrs. Hudson,” Sherlock says, but he can’t help but smile.
“Oh, I am so happy,” Mrs. Hudson says, and she flashes a big smile, before leaving the apartment.
“Sherlock?” John asks, as he enters the apartment. “Does this mean…?”
“What?”
“Well, are we…?”
“Are we what?” Sherlock asks. But he knows exactly what John is trying to ask. He is just teasing him.
“You know…?”
“I am afraid I don’t understand.”
“Are we together now?” John then finally asks, his face turning an even darker shade of red.
“Yes. Yes, we are,” Sherlock laughs. “And you know, Mrs. Hudson and Rose are out, so…”
“Sherlock?”
“Yes?”
“You know I love you, right?” John asks, looking nervous. Sherlock reaches out and grabs his hand. He flashes a smile, and he nods. He may not have allowed himself to feel it for a long time, but he definitely feels it now. And it makes him feel like his heart will beat out of his chest.
“I know.”
“Good,” John says, and he flashes a small, nervous smile. Looking up at Sherlock’s face, those beautiful eyes… it makes his heart skip a beat. And he can’t wait to see what the future brings.
“I love you too.”