After Love is my chronicling of Sherlock and John's post-Reichenbach reunion, and their attempt to rebuild their life together.

The title of this story references the poem Love After Love, by Derek Walcott.

Thanks for reading.

Disclaimer: Sherlock and John aren't mine, I'm just borrowing them. I promise to feed them and take them for walks and give them back when I'm done.

Note: This story is not BBC!canon-compliant for Reichenbach.

Content warning: blood.

One thousand ninety-four nights After, in a bedsit in London, on a plane leaving Paris, they dream.

The sky storms with stars that pulsate like small, ruby heartbeats, streaky clouds glowing like embers from a hearth. Under this flaming sky, on a vast, black ocean, they float, naked and alone: one man pale and long, a silvery starburst on his temple; the other, golden and solid, a bronze snowflake on his shoulder. Lightning flashes through the water, lapping their skin with garnet fire. Across the wide depths, they gaze at each other, their bodies hovering at the edge of each other's horizon, their figures dipping down below the curved edge of the earth.

Rooted in their hearts is a taut, gossamer thread, stretching across the ocean. The string, once a vibrant crimson, is now worn down to a musty pink, the edges fraying with age. Thin tremors snake through its length as their pulses beat, vibrating together in syncopation, beacons calling out to one another.

Slowly, they begin to swim towards each other, following the thread inch by inch across the water, pulling themselves from opposite sides of the earth. The ragged cord draws slick blood from their palms as they cling to the throbbing lifeline, tendrils of red trickling out into the dark water.

They swim for days, lengths of thread tangling around their limbs as the ocean swells, waves spilling over their bodies, pitching them to and fro as they claw against the tide, until they finally meet in the center of the sea.

Miles of thread swirl around them both as they float, gasping for breath, covered in sweat and salt and blood, a mere slip of water between them. Their gaunt bodies shake from exhaustion, their hearts bruised from the constant, fierce tug on the tattered thread.

They ghost their trembling bodies over one another, the water glinting as they move, rippling the slate blue pools and smooth, glasz pebbles of their eyes. Cool hands card through hair like ripe wheat; calloused hands cup thick curls of black ink; fingers caress crinkled eyelids, deep auburn and spun gold; trace the lines of sharp cheekbones worn down by water; stroke feathery, blonde eyelashes, moist and soft; until they finally press their wrinkled hands to each other's heart.

A deep, velvet voice breaks over the waves. "I kept it safe for you."

"I know." Another voice, dappled with amber.

"I never meant to hurt you. To have it this long."

"I know."

"Will you forgive me?"

The golden man smiles, his face breaking open like light between clouds. Carefully, he gathers the woven, red threads in his hands and wraps them around both of their bodies like a great net, starting with their feet and winding up to their shoulders, the thin cord pressing their flesh together in a tangle of muscle and bone. The edges of their skin blur, their mouths, eyes, hearts nestling inside one another, locking into place, their single heart pumping out steadily and joyfully like a sweet, clear spring, warming their aching, cold skin. They glow with golden, shimmering light, rippling out into the water for miles, a perfect, shivering note of need singing between them like the tremor of a violin, their bodies melting into one another until they are a single being of pure light, rising up into the night, shattering through the clouds to the stars, their heart breaking loose on the wind.

AN: Thanks to the brilliant Mirith Griffin for her beta critique and generous support. The title references a lyric from Toad the Wet Sprocket's "Walk on the Ocean." Visual inspiration for this chapter comes from the comet arrival and energybending sequences from the Avatar: The Last Airbender episode, "Sozin's Comet;" and the Ilia/Decker merge sequence from Star Trek: The Motion Picture. The "hearts breaking loose" and "sky storming with stars" phrases are from Pablo Neruda's poem, Poetry. The red thread is a reference to the red string of destiny binding soulmates together (found in Chinese and Japanese legends).

Thanks to you for reading! Comments are welcome.