TheGameMrsHudsonIsAfoot and I were talking two days ago and I mentioned how I was going to give Sherlock a funny phobia but it turned out to be too traumatic for our hero. I realized I had never written an angst or hurt/comfort piece before. So this is what happened. I feel so guilty!

Many thanks to MapleLeafCameo for looking through this for me, not one time, but twice! I do not own therefore I do not profit.

John walked into the kitchen and set the groceries down on the table before going into the living room. A quick glance showed no sign of Sherlock, yet his coat and scarf had been hanging up downstairs. Seeing a battered blackberry on the table, John removed his jacket, threw it over his chair and made his way to their bedroom.

The past few days Sherlock had been in a bit of a mood. John had experienced the days of not talking before and knew a good sulk when he saw one. However, this had been different. Not only had the detective been quieter but there had seemed to be an air of sadness surrounding him too.

John would never have suspected Sherlock Holmes would welcome human contact as much as he did. Ever since their relationship had changed to include romance, it seemed a switch had been flipped on. It was a matter of trust. While he still avoided touching others, Mrs. Hudson being the exception, Sherlock would go out of his way to lean against John if they were standing or sitting beside one another. Even when John was watching mindless telly Sherlock would nestle up against the doctor's side, his head on John's shoulder and attention on the phone in his hands.

John now stood at the doorway of the bedroom that had ceased being only Sherlock's seven months earlier. He looked at the figure that was curled into a ball and facing away. John had not said anything when Sherlock had begun leaving small spaces between them. He'd been patient but, after three days, he knew it was time to find out what was going on.

John could tell from Sherlock's breathing the man was awake. Deciding words could wait a bit more, he quietly removed his clothes and slid under the duvet. Not wasting time, John scooted over until he was spooned behind his lover and threw his right arm over the lean body. At first Sherlock stiffened but, as John remained, he relaxed into the embrace. Minutes went by with only faint outside noises heard.

"What's wrong?" John whispered, after leaving a kiss on one of the many freckles gracing Sherlock's back.

Time passed and John was about to ask again when the words, "You'd be better off without me," were whispered.

The shock he felt bled into John's words, "Why the hell did you say that?"

Sherlock's next exhale came out as a shudder. "I said it, because it's true."

John's arm pulled Sherlock in closer. "Who said such a ridiculous thing? Was it Mycroft? Did Anderson or Donovan-"

"No, they haven't said anything. You know I don't listen to what Mycroft says and the other two are idiots anyway."

Confused, John was forced to ask again, "Who then?"

Instead of giving a name, Sherlock took a deep breath and said, "Three days ago I came home early from the lab. Halfway up the stairs I heard you talking and remembered you had planned to talk to your old friend James Smithfield using Skype."

Still at a loss, John nodded against the back of Sherlock's neck, to let him know he was paying attention.

"You were faced away from the door so you didn't see me. I didn't want to bother you so I came in quietly. I know it is rare for you to find an opportunity to converse with him since he lives out of the country and is frequently busy with work. You and he were talking about how things in life hadn't quite turned out the way you'd planned."

He might not be Sherlock Holmes but John Watson was still an intelligent man and, as the conversation came flooding back, he had a feeling he knew where this was going. Nonetheless, he wanted to make sure so kept listening.

"I heard the two of your reminiscing about the expectations you'd had while attending medical school. It seems you said a wife, children, home and quiet life were some of your greatest hopes. Your friend laughed at the fact that you have none of those things. In response you said, 'Sometimes you don't get what you want.' After that I left."

John closed his eyes. "Oh Sherlock, sometimes you have the worst timing. If I had-"

Sherlock halted John's words, "No, its better that I found out the truth."

John tried to speak but it seemed the dam of words Sherlock had been holding back the past few days was now opened and would not be stopped until there was nothing left.

"I know how I am. And the style of life I live is seen by the world as an unhealthy one. In our relationship you have always been the giver and I the taker. If I hadn't come into your life you would have found a lovely woman to make your wife, probably a nice woman named Mary, had at least four children to raise together and lived the quiet life you always wanted."

Sherlock stopped to catch a breath. When no more words were spoken, the good doctor decided it was his turn.

"You are absolutely right Sherlock. That is the life I'd told James I wanted."

John pulled away and got up from their bed. Walking across the room he opened his sock drawer, took out the old ratty pair lying on the bottom and reached into one of them. With small box now in hand, he threw the socks back in and closed the drawer again.

Sherlock hadn't moved. After getting back under the duvet, John tucked the small box under his pillow so it could easily be reached and set his right hand on Sherlock's shoulder before giving it a light tug. When there was no additional movement, John tugged again until dark eyes finally met his.

"What?" Sherlock snapped, frustration evident in his voice.

"Turn around." Seeing an obstinate look start to settle, John decided to use his 'Captain Watson' tone. "Turn around, Sherlock."

Despite giving a huff, Sherlock did as John said.

Once they were looking at one another, John manipulated their limbs until arms were wrapped around each other and their legs intertwined. John used 'the voice' once more, making sure he was fully listened to.

"I've heard what you said. Now it's my turn to talk without interruption unless I ask you to answer a question. Are we clear?"

After a brief pause Sherlock agreed.

John made certain they were making eye contact before he continued. "Okay, the first thing I have to say is, for the world's only consulting detective, and being the man who brought down Moriarty and his criminal network, you really can be an absolute idiot sometimes."

Indignation filled Sherlock's face and his mouth opened. A look from John had him closing it once more although the expression remained.

"You've known me for nearly four years now, right?" Sherlock nodded. "And might I remind you that not even Sarah would have looked at me if I had met her before I met you. I wasn't much of a prize with a psychosomatic limp, depression and no purpose in my life. You were the one who rid me of the limp, in record time I might add, gave me focus and made me a part of something great."

John moved his right hand until his palm was cupping the base of Sherlock's skull, the thumb stroking the skin just below the other man's ear.

"While I may have dated quite a lot at the beginning, we both know I wasn't looking for a long term relationship as much as thinking with my hormones. If I had been seriously committed to any of those women then nothing would have stopped me. Not you, not the cases, not even Mycroft. I made the choice to have our life be the most important thing."

John kissed Sherlock's forehead. As he did so he could feel the body next to him relax slightly.

"If I had wanted a wife, kids and a quiet life more than anything else, I never would have signed up for the army."

John's voice began to grow quieter. "I don't think I need to remind you what I was like while you were gone those nearly two years, do I? Twenty-three months is more than enough time for me to have married and started on a family don't you think?"

Another nod.

"Yet where was I when you were finally able to come home?"

"You were here," Sherlock whispered.

"That's right, I was here. When I was ready, I came back to Baker Street because I couldn't imagine being anywhere else seeing as this was our home."

John placed a kiss to Sherlock's left temple.

"Sherlock, when we are young, as I was when I told James my life expectations, we think we know exactly what we need for our life. I know you expected your life to play out a certain way and it didn't include having someone be a part of your work, never mind intimately. But as we grow older we come to better understand something important. Something you would have heard me say to James if you hadn't left when you had."

John made certain he had Sherlock's complete attention before continuing. "Sometimes what you want isn't what you need."

He paused a moment letting his words sink in.

"We both know what regular people call a normal life would bore me to tears. Even Mycroft knew that the first time we met."

John chuckled as Sherlock scowled.

"James had a good laugh at my expense after I told him my thought. Said he was glad to know I had finally figured out what he'd known all along." John wanted to give Sherlock a proper kiss but knew it was best to wait.

"Now that you have all of the information, would you like to have another think? A bit more rationally this time?" he teased.

John moved his hand so he could run his fingertips over Sherlock's face. After a minute he heard the thin genius say, "But you weren't gay."

The doctor could help but roll his eyes as he smirked before answering, "No I wasn't gay. And I honestly don't consider myself gay now since the idea of being with any other man besides you makes me shudder. However, I thoroughly enjoy making love to you so that doesn't matter a bit. Also, once again, it is my choice. You haven't forced me into anything."

"Hmm," Sherlock answered as the wheels in his mind started to race once more.

Time passed silently but John could tell Sherlock was on the right track since his body continued to relax. When he was finally finished the sadness that had taken up camp in his eyes was gone.

"So, now that you're finished, what conclusions have you come to?" John asked.

Sherlock shifted until their foreheads touched before confidently answering, "You love me and you love the life we have together."

John's left hand snuck under his pillow for the small box as he distracted his partner with a kiss. When it was over John shifted the box to his right hand and opened it before Sherlock's face. Inside were two white gold wedding bands.

"Good answer."