It hit him like a ton of bricks. The collision of raw emotions piled into what could be described as a heap of confusion, wonderment, and awe. The possibility in itself, though exaggerated in more ways than one, baffled England's only consulting detective. He had never encountered such a wave of sentiment prior to this moment as John's lips parted ways.

"You're my best friend."

For once, Sherlock was speechless. At a loss for words, John's statement echoed repeatedly in the vast corners of his brain. Mind numbing, as the volume of the world around him lowered, he stared at John as if the scene before him was a dream.

To what extent had he come to take on such a role? At which point in his life had Sherlock earned the right to stand by a man of such bravery and courage? The detective lost himself in the process of inquiring the unfathomable. He lost himself trying to figure out how exactly this had come to be. Unlike everything else in life, he strived to muster up confidence within himself to believe these words of praise, yet he questioned it.

Do I deserve this?

He's doubtful, and puts insecurity to blame. Though it is trifling to bring such a demeaning emotion into the picture, he cannot help but believe so. Years of implanting the fact that he resembled a robot, a machine more than a human allowed the chain of events to ensure this belief. He never had a real friend before this overbearingly, awkward, retired doctor once stationed in Afghanistan. It was this doctor, so normal yet intriguing; this doctor, who'd spent countless hours rummaging through files and research papers to help solve cases with him; this doctor, who created a kaleidoscope of illusion and filled his days with pure inspiration.

John Hamish Watson, his best friend, the single most encouraging person to put up with his constant rambles and rude manners, had asked him to be his best man. He told Sherlock of his value; how he loved Sherlock and wanted him to be by his side on the most important day of his life. It was a life that―thanks to Sherlock―was incomprehensibly joyful to live.

Sherlock gave John something to look forward to when he woke up. He gave John a spark that lit the tunnels of his gloomy, uncertain days that seemed to lose themselves in the episodes of war and isolation. Month after month, John attended sessions in therapy, seeking the help that was needed to adjust to a normal lifestyle after his experience in Afghanistan. It is not until after he meets Sherlock that these trials end, and he is able to move on with life and begin an unexpected journey with an excited, impatient heart beating against his chest.

The two helped shape each other, complete as if pieces to a puzzle had the mind to fix themselves and mold in the most imperfectly perfect way. They faced love and lost, and yet still managed to get through the everything they had. Because they did it together.

Unable to offer words of appreciation and gratitude to John, Sherlock's mind stumbled over its inefficient way to express itself. Instead, he let the silence envelope around the space between him and his mate. He'd have his chance to speak his true feelings to John. One day.