I am not dead, are you? (SherlockXMoriarty PostRBF)

As John noticed Sherlock grimaced as he stood up, his mind had a flashback to a dream. At least he thought this had been a dream. Already he started sweating and his heartbeat and breathing became faster. No... No he had not done this! He couldn't. His mind showed him his anxiety attack of a few days before. Though, it never showed a doctor coming in and putting him down. It showed him How he hit Sherlock, split lip, Sherlock still had the split lip so this must be true. He then grabbed his friend by the shoulder and started to undo his pants. Sherlock was rather out from the hit he had received, though he was struggling against it. Oh god, what had he done? How could it be he had done this? His memory kept playing on, both of them losing their pants now, Sherlock lying flat on John's bed, John crawling on top of him. He could hear Sherlock scream in his mind as John just roughly entered him. God no... He had raped his friend.

John started crying, hitting his fists into the sheets. "God no, God no. What have I done. i didn't mean to. How.. No. No I am so sorry Sherlock. I never meant to, it was stronger then me. How... Why are you still here. I don't deserve this. God.. This is terrible, I am terrible." He cried on and on, breathing fast.

Sherlock felt himself grow stiff when John shifted on the bed and his breathing grew faster.
He turned around quickly, forgetting about lunch and saw the other man starting to look horrified.

"John, I am not going anywhere!" he exclaimed, for a moment thinking he was worried he would leave again.
When he started crying and talking he realized it was another matter completely.
He had no idea what to think though.

He wrapped his arms around him.

"I am here, John, because I want to be here, you are my friend," he started, trying to analyse the words, John thought he did something terrible... but what?
The punch? Could he be referring to the punch?
"It's nothing John, it didn't hurt that much, it's alright... I even forgot about it!"

John desperately tried to keep Sherlock away from him. He felt so guilty and dirty. He felt bad for what he had done. How could he do this to his best friend? Even if he did it unconscious, he still did so. He swore it had been just a dream and non of it ever happened.

But then there was Sherlock, wrapping his arms around him telling him it didn't even hurt that bad. John started crying even more, burying his face into the other's shoulder as it was the only way he could go. His hands grasped on Sherlock's shirt as he kept whispering apologies. "How can you say it's alright. People get arrested for this. You should turn me in Sherlock, I.. I swear it's for the best of me. I am so sorry. I can't believe I did this. Even if it didn't hurt you badly, it's unacceptable. Sherlock...I'm sorry."

Sherlock craddled him close, his arms tight around his friend, he ran his hands over his back and he had no intention of letting go of him.
John was confused, that was sure, and it clearly wasn't the punch he was talking about. There had to be something else, something John had apparently dreamed of.

"It was just a punch, John, no one gets arrested for that... I am fine..." he muttered, reassuring, and kissed the top of his head. "You didn't do anything... I am fine, John... it was probably just a dream..."

John grasped onto his friend even more. He was panting from crying and his chest was filled with guilt. He kept whispering words of appology and couldn't understand why Sherlock was still being here comforting him. He didn't deserve this at all. He deserved to be taken away by the police and locked up forever; he was dangerous and he knew it himself.

John's eyes widened more as Sherlock mentioned the punch. "Not that. Wh-what happened after. I.. I'm sorry. You don't need to defend me Sherlock. I know what happens to people who commit a crime like I have. And I understand, I deserve this." He said, as he convinced himself everything had really happened. Then he broke into another waterfall of tears. "I thought it was all a dream, I thought I dreamed about raping you, I never wanted to do it, I swear. God Sherlock, I am sorry. But I think it's best you go and get the police now..."

Sherlock couldn't help the worry pooling in his chest when John started talking again, it had clearly been a dream, but his friend was confusing it with reality. It was not a good sign, not at all.
He realized his limp had caused this though.

"John, look at me," he exclaimed, pulling away a bit to cup the other's cheeks. "I am fine, you didn't rape me, you didn't do anything of the sort, a doctor came in and sedated you after you punched me... I am fine, nothing like that happened, you would never do anything like that, I know it, you know it," he whimpered, pleading.

John just kept crying on, his whole body was shaking from both fear, guilt and just every other emotion he was feeling. Still gripping onto Sherlock's shirt he now looks him in his beautiful eyes. He expected Sherlock to explain him how he was his friend and how he understood why and John was ready to get out of bed and turn himself in as Sherlock would even try doing so.

His eyes widened though when his best friend started to explain. "I.. I didn't? But you said it didn't hurt that bad, and the split lip and.. God." He tried to calm himself down by breathing in and out deep for a few times. "I.. I feel so embarrassed." He eventually said, voice still shaking.

Sherlock looked at him, caressing his hair slowly. "The punch, the punch hadn't hurt that bad, John..." he explained quickly, breathing in and out together with him, he was secretly panicking as well. He didn't know how to deal with this, and Sherlock Holmes hated to be unprepared.

"It was a dream John... you would never do that... you should trust yourself more..." he added, trying to smile very softly.

"A dream... Yes.. Nightmare... Nothing more.. Yes. Okay..." John said as in between he managed to control his heavy breathing. He then clung onto Sherlock, wrapping his arms around his friend. "I would never do that. No... No. God I am sorry. I am being silly, I shouldn't be like this. I should be happy all of the time, happy you're back. I am a mess Sherlock, and I am so sorry for it." John kept talking on, apologising for his behaviour.

Sherlock nodded, trying not to think about what it meant if John had this kind of nightmares. Was it about secretly hating him for faking his death? It would make sense.
"Yes, nothing but a nightmare... your mind is working against you, John..." he whispered, caressing his back as he was hugged closer. "But it will pass... it just needs time to adjust to how things are going..."

"It's like being physically hurt, you need time to heal..." he muttered and shook his head a bit. "It's okay, John, I am here for you, and I promise I can be patient..."

John stayed in his best friend's arm for a good few minutes. Until he felt he had stop sweating and his breathing was in control again. Eventually he pulled away, mumbling a quick "thank you for everything" to Sherlock. He meant it.

"So. eh. What did happened then?" He asked carefully. "The limp? Did you pull a muscle?"

He shook his head when John thanked him, he really didn't need to say those things, Sherlock would always be there for him, he was just sorry he had stayed away so long.

When John asked about the limp Sherlock's face became completely red, for a long moment he debated whether to say the truth or not.
"Oh, that, uh... that's nothing bad actually... I..." he looked to the side. "I actually... have... someone... mm... a guy... and... mm... yes..." he stammered, looking at his hands.

John felt the shock bleed the red from his face. He was turning more paler by the second, by every word coming out of Sherlock's mouth. He had a sort of silent crisis, unable to say a word. His mouth fell open in surprise, in disbelieve even in disgust.

How could this be? Who could possible win Sherlock's heart? He didn't cared for anyone. He never even cared for John that way, even though he had wished to. Even Irene Adler did not succeed in that mission, and she came pretty close. John felt himself starting to shake, but he remained calm. He had to remain calm.

After... well after he didn't even know how long he was finally able to say something.
"You've abandoned me from your life for this long... Just.. to get some." He blurred out, his stare was rather absent though, as if a switch got hit all he could do now was stare and bring out vague words. "You.. left.. and come back, being screwed over until you can't even walk straight anymore." John shook his head, still staring into oblivious. "And I'm here.. dwelling over you.. I can't.. this is.. Sherlock. This is a joke right?" He eventually forced himself to look at him.

Sherlock was too embarrassed at first to realize he had upset his friend again, eventually he realized the silence that had fallen between them.
He looked up, his eyes widening as he noticed John's paleness.

"What? Get some? What?" he repeated, overwhelmed by guilt and his heart starting to beat in his throat. Why was John reacting like this? He thought he would be happy he finally found someone! He thought John didn't care if he was gay!
What was happening?

He was trying to think, but his feelings were in the way, making him stupid.

"It's not because of him I haven't come back... I... I... had to stay away to protect you... John..." he muttered miserably, when John looked at him he felt his heart drop to the floor.

"What do you mean dwelling over me? I am here for you, John, I came back because of what happened!" he protested feebly, his voice shaking.

John blinked a few times. Still not believing what Sherlock just told him. His heart just broke right there and right now. But John did not cry, he refused to shed one more tear in front of this man.

"Yes. Sherlock, get some." He just bitterly repeated.

"To protect me, right?" John's voice was calm though on the inside he was boiling with sadness and jealousy. "I can't believe this. You, Sherlock Holmes with your great and massive intellect can't see that I am dwelling over you? You haven't got half the idea of how much I missed you these years. I had my revolver to my head, I overdosed twice and that all while you were getting fucked in some hotel room." He huffed, though he kept his cool.

John kept looking at Sherlock. "I love you Sherlock. I could have give you whatever this person is giving you. And I tried to show it more then once but you were kept safe behind this great wall of emotionless feelings, completely hidden away from any feeling that would even get near you." John kept explaining, he just had to get it off his chest now to prevent having another attack.

"I want you to be happy Sherlock. Yes, yes of course, much rather then I'd see myself ever happy again. You're here for me, now. When I can see you. But what outside of these 4 walls? You enjoy happy walks in the park?" John couldn't help but getting a bit offended here at least.

A painful silence fell once more but then John decided to finally ask it; "Who is he? The man you're seeing?"

Sherlock shook his head, John's words spinning fast in his head. "No, that's not true, I know exactly what you felt, I know it because I felt it too! I thought I could never come back, John!" he protested, and he felt tears sting in his eyes.

I love you
I could have given you whatever this person is giving you

Sherlock stepped back, struck by the intensity of the words, it was like a slap to his face, and he really felt he was the stupidest person on this earth for never noticing.
"No... that can't... be... you never... you always... you were always with girls..." he protested and groaned as John kept attacking him.

"Jesus Christ, John, I jumped off a building to save you, I loved you more than I cared about my own life! I gave up everything I had for you! Don't you dare saying that I never cared!" he shouted and then regretted his words right away, he felt like his sould had burned to become raw.

"It took me everything I had left to get over you, John... I..." he shook his head. "You don't know him..."

"You, Sherlock Holmes, haven't got the slightest idea of what I've been through." He hissed, convinced Sherlock never felt feelings the way others felt them. "I've never stayed with any of those girls. They were supposed to make you jealous, Sherlock." He explained, thinking about the many times he had sat in a restaurant babbling on about Sherlock until this girl had enough and would leave him.

John got silenced and slapped back to senses when Sherlock shouted. How could he been this selfish? Sherlock was right, he threw himself off a roof just to spare John's life. He wasn't being fair, but he could barely help himself.

"Yes. You're right." He said softly, regretting his words now.

To get over you? What did Sherlock even mean? He never felt the same. He never loved John the way he did. "Get.. Get over me?" He said, giving Sherlock a puzzled look.

They were supposed to make you jealous...

Sherlock stepped back again, his mind whirring with all the new information. He couldn't believe it. John couldn't be serious. All that time, all that time they had been dancing around each other like fools.

"I was jealous! I was interfering all the time... what else was I supposed to do?" he stammered, and run his hand through his hair, nervous.
"John I... I fell in love with you... I don't know when exactly..." he admitted, feeling completely miserable. "I didn't even know I could feel love at all... but you... it's just impossible not to love you..." he added, sighing.

"But... I met him... and... I got over you..." he whispered, looking down at his feet, his shoulders slumping. "I thought you would ever only be just my friend..."

"You could have said something perhaps. Something other then how love is a bad chemical reaction and how sentiment is wrong." he shook his had. He couldn't believe Sherlock had loved in like that all this time and he was so focused on his own feelings that he perhaps missed all the things.

John just sat up straight in his back, Sherlock now at the end of his bed. He sighed. "Does he make you happy?" He asked but his tone was rather cold.

"I was desperate to cover up my feelings," he muttered, and looked at him sadly. "You are right... perhaps I should have..."
He felt so stupid, he should have noticed this.

He grimaced at John's tone when he asked him if Jim was making him happy.
"It's difficult at times..." he muttered, with a nod. "But... I... I love him..."

John's face was covered in thoughtful wrinkles. All this time Sherlock had felt the same and all both of them did was trying to deny it, certain that the other didn't feel the same way. John just nodded as Sherlock agreed he should have said something. He sighed and slowly rubbed his forehead.

His eyes wandered back to Sherlock as he answered his question. To John Sherlock didn't sound very convinced. He didn't sound happy talking about this person. And John wanted Sherlock to be happy. He deserved somebody. Somebody who understands his complicated way of being. But there was no possible person who could? Beside Moriarty, but he was their enemy.

Again John sighed. "I want you to be happy." He admitted. "And if this person is making you happy. That's great, that's wonderful." He said with a painful grimace on his face. Speaking these words did hurt him on the inside. "But if he's not, Sherlock, I am willing to fight for this. For your happiness."

Sherlock frowned, feeling his heart clench in his chest at John's words. "It's a difficult situation now, John, I am so worried about you, I fear I will scare him away..." he reached out his hand, touching John's hesitantly.

"Because even though I love him... you need me now, and I will always put you first..." he admitted, his eyes moving on John's face.
He shook his head. "My happiness is not important..."

John didn't move his hand as Sherlock's touched his. He didn't pull away but he didn't grab it back either. He was confused and trying to sort his own feelings out. He found it hard to imagine Sherlock could ever be in love with anyone. He even found it hard imagining himself with Sherlock.

Sherlock's words shot straight through John's heart. I will always put you first... John knew so. Sherlock might come across selfish. He wasn't. At least not towards John. And right at this moment John wish he was.
"Your happiness is important, Sherlock. To me it is very important."

Sherlock sighed when he realized John would never return his touches any more. He knew he shouldn't expect him to, he knew things were going to be awkward for a while, his only hope was that they could survive through this.
He didn't think he could bear to lose John again.

"You think about getting better, John... and then I'll think about my happiness, okay?" he suggested with a half smile, he felt so miserable at the moment, he couldn't believe he had managed to break John's heart again when he was supposed to be here to mend it.

John agreed with Sherlock's words. He had to get better and Sherlock needed to think about his own happiness. John decided to give it a rest for now, he was tired.

"Would you mind if I tried to sleep a bit now?" He said, moving around a bit to get into a better position. John thought about a lot before falling asleep, but all his thought went back to the same person; Sherlock.