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John was still furious with Sherlock. He realized that part of Sherlock’s behavior was his fault. So he felt it was his responsibility to see Sherlock through the withdraws and cravings. However Sherlock remained quiet and standoffish whenever he came to the flat. He supposed he couldn’t be blamed for that but it still irked him. He was just so subdued! That wasn’t Sherlock. That wasn’t the man he knew!
At the moment they were sat in their arm chairs, well the arm chairs in SHERLOCK’S flat one of which USED to be his, next to the fire. John too stiff and Sherlock fidgety and awkward. As he sat there Sherlock found himself wondering why John was here, why he kept coming? He was clearly still angry with him and didn’t really want to be there.
It hurt. But what hurt even more was the things John had done since Mary. What happened in that morgue and John abandoning him in the hospital afterwards. He had truly believed he was about to die, that John had completely abandoned him. John had BEAT him, kicked him when he was down! He would never have fathomed that level of cruelty from John, his John. But perhaps he should have done given John’s reaction upon his return. The thought that but for a coincidence of fate allowing John to happen to find the video Mary sent him he’d be dead now sent an achingly, cold feeling into the pit of his stomach nearly crippling him. He was desperate to ask John why but he feared the answer just as much. He could barely stand to be in John’s presence but he bore it as best as he could.
Several more days went by like this before Sherlock finally broke, “John”. The soldier looked up from making tea, “What Sherlcok?”. He wore a scowl as he turned to him. Sherlock sent an angry glare right back. He spoke with more bite than he had originally intended, “Why are you here?! Why do you keep coming? You clearly don’t want to be here! I can see that John.” John jerked and said in a voice slightly above his normal pitch, “What?”.
“I don’t like to repeat myself John. You know this. You clearly heard me.” He stood gob smacked for a few moments then, “I would have thought that was obvious”. There was a slight question in John’s voice when he spoke. Hearing this caused Sherlock to become furious so quickly it shocked even him! He sprang up from his chair and stalked towards John. “NO! Of course it isn’t obvious John! You have refused to acknowledge my existence for WEEKS! No that’s not quite right. You did have Molly deliver that LOVELY letter.”, he shouted the last with a sneer. During his speech he had gotten more and more into John’s space. Now he was right in his face when he said “YOU BEAT ME JOHN! And badly enough that I had to be hospitalized, in fact!”. He flung himself away from John and stalked back towards the window. John sat wide eyed rooted to his chair. “Sher–Sherlock….” he started but his voiced died away. What could he say? His friend, could he even still call him that? He didn’t know at this point. But, yes, SHERLOCK was right.
There was one thing he knew for sure, just one thing. He HAD to fix this! He had to! Clearing his throat he tried again. He moved towards Sherlock then thought better of it. “Sherlock.” A pause. “Listen….” At this point Sherlock turned to face him. He still looked quite upset, furious even. It stole John’s breath for a moment. He had never seen that level of anger from Sherlock before let alone having it focused on him. It took him another moment to steel his nerves again to speak. When he did it was soft and beseeching. “You have every right to be upset. You SHOULD be angry really! I’m surprised it’s been so long in coming if I’m honest. I’ve been a terrible friend to you. I know that. I……I’ve”. He couldn’t look at the detective anymore. It hurt to much. He could see that Sherlock was keeping his face deliberately blank. Casting his eyes to the rug beneath his feet he went on. “I’ve hurt you. I knew that, I think but I didn’t truly realize. Not until now. And….and I’m sorry for that. More than. There’s no excuse for how I treated you really. I won’t even try to defend it. But Sherlock, I want to fix this! I want to make things right!” Sherlock speared him with his gaze then. “Do you? Or is this another misguided attempt to assuage your guilty conscience? Like coming to sit with me here has been?” He said all this in a hard, cold voice.