Chapter 4: An explanation

When Sherlock awoke he had a terrible headache. He was laying on a cold floor in a dark room which looked like the hall of an abandoned house. He felt something soft beneath his head, something that felt like a jacket. He tried to sit up but everything began to spin around, when he moved.
'Don't move', a voice commanded. It was John's voice. Although he got nauseous, Sherlock tried to sit up again. He had to see him. He groaned when he eventually sat, his back pressed against the cold wall. John sat next to him and avoided his gaze.
'Where are we?', the detective asked. John scoffed.
'Deduce it.' His voice was cold, but not as cold as it had been in Eloise Bradley's house. Sherlock's eyes scanned the room, seeing every little scratch in the walls. It was dark and the bulge at his had wasn't very large, so it was still the same night, he assumed.
'We're not in London anymore', he stated with a raw voice. John nodded. 'Why are we here, John?' John still didn't look him in the eyes.
'I had to think.'

Sherlock reached a hand out for John's. 'Don't-', the doctor growled, but Sherlock didn't listen. He grabbed John's hand and laced their fingers together. When John didn't withdrew his fingers, the detective started drawing small circles with his thumb on John's hand.
'Please, John', he pleaded, 'please come with me.' John quirked his brow - Sherlock couldn't deduce what he was feeling.
'You still want me?', the doctor asked. The sleuth just nodded. 'But I punched you Sherlock. And I... I murdered. I killed innocent people.' Suddenly he started to sob. He hid his face in his hands and his shoulders were shaking. In that moment Sherlock new that John had realized just now what he had done. He had been in a state of anger and insanity during his killings and hadn't noticed what he was doing. 'You have no idea how it feels to kill someone', John mumbled.
'I have.' John took the hands of his face and stared at him.
'Sorry?', he asked. Sherlock looked straight into his eyes.
'I have. How do you think I destroyed Moriarty's web?'
'You did what?', John asked bluntly.
'I destroyed Moriarty's web. That's why I couldn't tell you, that I'm still alive, John. He had snipers on you, Mrs. Hudson and Lestrade. After Moriarty killed himself I had to jump, so that the snipers didn't kill you. Or at least, everyone had to think I had jumped. And then I started destroying his web. I killed all of his man. Every single. I had just finished off his last man, Sebastian Moran, when Mycroft called me and told me about the murders and that you had disappeared. He doesn't know it was you.' John stared perplexed at him.

'You did all this, to save me?', he whispered. Sherlock reached out for his jaw and carefully wiped a tear from John's skin.
'Of course, you idiot. Do you think I could have stayed away from you any other way?' Their eyes locked. Something changed in Johns gaze. He didn't look angry and disappointed at Sherlock anymore. His eyes softened. Now or never, Sherlock thought and leaned in. John didn't back away. They came nearer and nearer, until finally, their lips met.

~ fin ~

AN: That's it! I finished my first story with more than one chapter! I hope you enjoyed it, please tell me how you liked the end. If requested, I may write a sequel.
Thanks to the guest-reviewer for pointing out that the dialogues are hard to read, I edited all chapters and now a new paragraph starts whenever an other character speaks. I hope it's now better readable.
I really appreciate constructive criticism, so that I can improve my writing. If you have some One-Shot requests, contact me and I'll see what I can do.
~ TheNameIsAllieHolmes