Missing Piece Chapter 13 - Johnlock

Blinking against the bright sunlight, Sherlock thought back to last night’s events. That had been rather unpleasant. In the future he had to make sure that his body wouldn’t disturb him with such malfunctions. More so at times when he could do nothing take care of them.

Sometime he must have fallen asleep, obviously, which he was grateful for. If John had noticed he would surely feel awkward and uncomfortable around Sherlock.

The consulting detective turned his head sideways and bolded upright when he saw that the bed beside him was empty. Although it should be nothing to worry about, panic flared up inside him. The most logical explanation for that was that John had simply woken up before him and then proceeded to go downstairs. And out of kindness letting Sherlock remain asleep. But he still felt uncomfortable not seeing John, not knowing precisely where he was.

Maybe he had surmised it. Maybe it had been a dream. The thought hit him unexpectedly and Sherlock paled.

No. He knew that John was safe and not in any kind of danger anymore, but Sherlock had to see him. Right this instant. He had to see him with his own eyes.

It was an unpleasant feeling for Sherlock that he couldn’t rely on his mind. It reminded him of Baskerville, but he hadn’t taken any drugs so there was no reason to question his deduction that John was at their flat. Yet the thought that, as improbable as it was, kept nagging at the back of his head.

In a matter of seconds Sherlock made his way out of the room and down the stairs, stopping at the kitchen door. There he was, sitting at the kitchen table and drinking his tea. Sherlock let go of the breath he hadn’t noticed holding, heart rate slowly returning to its normal pace.

Stupid! Of course John was here. Sherlock scowled irksomely at his needless overreaction before stepping inside.

“You could have woken me up” Sherlock greeted John in a way he hoped sounded nonchalant. John twitched almost unnoticeable and Sherlock made a note that he’d have to move around louder than usual for the next because John was obviously still easily startled and his body on alert.

“Morning Sherlock” John smiled tiredly “It’s such a rare opportunity to see you actually asleep that I didn’t want to” That John was sure Sherlock hadn’t rested for the last couple of days remained unspoken.

Sherlock stepped closer, looking John up. He still looked feverish. Before he gave his action a second thought Sherlock put his palm, on John’s forehead. He could hear John suck in his breath sharply in surprise and tensing ever so slightly.
So much to trying not to startle John.

All of a sudden Sherlock became deucedly aware of their close proximity. John’s warmth seeping into his cool skin, his tongue flicking out to wet his lips, cheeks flushed. Last night events, or rather his body’s reactions came to his mind and hastily he brought some distance between them, pulling his hand away.

“You still have a fever. Rest”

“Thanks Sherlock, but you’re aware I’m a doctor. I know how to handle a fever” John waved his hand, indicating that Sherlock was making a big deal out of it.

“Alright. I’m making tea for you, so why don’t you go and let your brain cells get eliminated by some crappy telly” John nodded, already turning to leave the kitchen “John, your face is redder than it was yesterday. Sure it didn’t go up?”

The doctor didn’t turn around again, but Sherlock could hear him mutter “Not from the fever, you git” Sherlock frowned. This wasn’t like John at all to react like that. Had he said something wrong? He pondered while getting the kettle ready.

Oh, stupid, stupid, stupid! Of course John had been paler yesterday, blood loss and shock. And it was quite possible that Sherlock’s remark had triggered memories.

If he evaluated the four possibilities, that was the only reasonable one. John had denied that his fever had risen. It wasn’t nearly hot enough in their flat to cause John’s cheek’s to heat up. The only other explanation would be that something caused John to blush. His stomach fluttered at that thought, but he quickly dismissed it. He could have seen wrong. There was no reason for John to blush under Sherlock’s touch.  That was just wishful thinking.

Sherlock frowned and stared his hand. He felt an odd sensation lingering where he had touched John’s forehead. Trying to shake the feeling off he rummaged through the cupboard in search for an herb tea.

Out of the blue realization hit him and his hand faltered in its movement, his mouth forming the shape of an ‘oh’, just like he did when the solution of a case suddenly struck him.

No. This couldn’t be. He, Sherlock Holmes, didn’t fall in love. It simply could not be. He was incapable of it! But his body told him otherwise. And all the clues came to his mind, fitting together like a puzzle. It was the only conclusion. And once the impossible is eliminated, whatever remains, no matter how improbable, must be the truth.

He turned his head to catch a glance at John sitting in the living room, oblivious to Sherlock’s discovery and his heart quickened its pace. He had looked at John so many times, stared at him for hours so this shouldn’t feel any different but it did. Sherlock didn’t have enough data, so he couldn’t know for sure if the realization caused his perspective to change and reinforce his reactions. Make them more visible (you mean like last night?).

Maybe he had felt like that all along but not noticed because emotions just weren’t his area and he neglected his body all the time. Ignoring its needs as long as possible. Or maybe because John had constantly been by his side like when one feels hungry for a long time and doesn’t notice until the moment when one does and then it becomes impossible to ignore it any longer.

Sherlock had to admit that his comparison lacked but now was not the time to ponder over his feelings for John. It had to wait until John was alright.

Putting the teabags into the cups and pouring hot water over them, Sherlock tried to calm down before entering the living room. He couldn’t let his emotions get the better of him. They had done so enough in the last few days.