Author's notes- Contrary to the large scale outrage against HLV, I found that the train-car scene in TEH was the one I wanted to fix most badly. Probably because my brain cannot reconcile the colossal-dickhead-Sherlock at the end of TEH with self-sacrificing one in HLV. That's how this oneshot happened.

The dialogue has been copy pasted from Arianedevere's awesome transcript (so she frankly gets the credit for 'penning' half the story). (Link- . )

Sherlock and John belong to Arthur Conan Doyle and each other.

1:29

It is now or never. So I try again, "I'm sorry."

… for everything, for lying to you, for leaving you, for betraying your trust, for coming back to see you smiling like that with someone else. That last bit makes me a terrible human being because I did what I did so you could go on. And now that you're happy, I should be happy for you. But sorry is all I feel.

You screw your eyes closed like you cannot bear to hear me say that anymore, "What!"

Now that I've made up my mind, I don't hesitate, "I can't ... I can't do it, John. I don't know how."

…to wait, to suffer in silence waiting for your forgiveness, which is exactly what I deserve. For every moment of uncertainty that could mean mercy, there's the next one weighted with the terror that I have broken us irreparably. I can accept that I've lost you to the vagaries of fate or the wife-to-be or even by my own actions. But I cannot accept that you lose me in a way that you didn't, even when I was dead, that I become and remain a hateful memory, beyond redemption, like a scar far worse than the one a bullet gave you.

I straighten up on my knees and beg, "Forgive me?"

…for never telling you how I feel, for suppressing my affection, for treating you like a weakness when you were my greatest strength. It has been a hard-earned lesson I had been bursting to share with you. But the reality was you smiling with someone else with a ring on the table between the two of you and I had no choice but to resurrect the lie, to be the calculating, unfeeling machine once more.

"What?" You look like you're about to explode.

The tears are real this time, not that you would ever believe that later. "Please, John, forgive me...for all the hurt that I caused you."

...for this too, for a charade yet again. This is all I can offer you in your new life. Putting on an act like the one before. Because this is the only way I know of to ask for something I don't deserve.

You don't want to hear it. "No, no, no, no, no, no. This is a trick."

"No"

…not really, not the way you're thinking. The trick is not that I'm lying, but that it's an outrageous lie that will blind you to the truth. I am doing you a favour, John, by lying to you this time. In your new life, there is no room for me and my truths. Letting you think that we are about to die is less brutal than letting you know what I really want.

"Another one of your bloody tricks."

" No."

…It is the only way. One big lie- that we're about to die and you'll believe it because the rest of it is true. That your forgiveness is the only thing you can give me now. I am simply making it easier for you to grant it. Your forgiveness is all I will have for myself when you leave for good and I'm inevitably consigned to the status of a fading backdrop to your 'real' life with Mary. How can you blame my desire to gain it using any means necessary?

You're at the end of your tether now. "You're just trying to make me say something nice."

I cannot help the brief chuckle that escapes me. "Not this time…"

…not ever...I would never want you to lie to me, John. That is what sets you apart from the rest of the world. Whether you called me brilliant or a tit, it was painlessly honest. Your praise, your regard, your respect for me, all of it was always true and all the more precious for it.

"It's just to make you look good even though you behaved like ..."

You're blinking back tears with an effort and there is nothing I want more than to gather you in my arms and brush them off. But I cannot do that so I simply sit up.

"I wanted you not to be dead," your voice is savagely furious.

"Yeah, well, be careful what you wish for..."

...what you're wishing for right this minute. Even now you are hoping that I am telling you the truth for once, still wishing that I speak my mind and hide nothing. Do you have any idea how tempting it is to unburden myself right this instant? And how damning is it that I won't. Even if this bomb were truly about to go off, I would've lacked the courage to confess all my sins, the whole length and breadth of them, starting with how I really felt about you and yet I did what I did with full knowledge of what it could do, to you…and to me.

"If I hadn't come back, you wouldn't be standing there and..."

...if I confess, if I don't keep to the lie, I would lose you.

You turn away, which makes it easier to say the next part. "... you'd still have a future ... with Mary..."

...and that would be my gift to you. If, as an unfeeling, insensitive, sociopathic friend, I can retain some scraps of your affection and attention, then I choose those. To watch you be happy and see you live your life from a distance rather than lose the right to see you at all.

"Yeah. I know," you hate that I'm right.

I don't have to fake my tears this time. If the prospect of imminent death does not gain me your forgiveness, I am indeed a poor excuse for a human being.

You steel yourself visibly, "Look, I find it difficult. I find it difficult, this sort of stuff."

"I know…"

...because you are not like me, John. Your words were never tools to manipulate people. Your words have always been a window to your mind and soul. It never mattered when I couldn't read you. What was more incredible was that I never had to.

Your voice is practically a whisper, "You were the best and the wisest man... that I have ever known."

...So this is how you absolve me and condemn me with a single sentence. The past tense John, were you aware you were using it? That's that. I'm glad you moved on even when I can't. That is my true punishment. To watch you drift away and build a life I should have very much been a part of.

"Yes, of course I forgive you."

If we were to die this minute, it would be Mary you would think of, while I would consider it my greatest fortune to be able to die with you like this, us together, side by side. And that is the beautiful irony of the moment, John. My love for you started with a lie, so a lie it will remain. A guilty secret I will probably carry to my grave. You deserve something so much more. You deserve life, laughter and happiness illuminating every corner of your life. You will always have my love; even if you never need it and I… I will have your forgiveness. It's okay. It's more than I had ever expected to have.

I look at you because the second part of this act is incredibly hard. But you have your eyes closed, braced for the explosion.

I'm glad you never realized that it had already happened, killing the fragile promise of what we could have been. It happened when I stood on Bart's roof, lied to you and broke your heart. This is simply the echo, the wake, the closing chapter of a story that I never allowed to be written. Therefore it is I alone who must bear the consequences. It is only right.

I hide my face and begin to laugh.