JohnLock - Never Had the Courage

Sherlock Holmes sat in the flat he had once shared with John Watson.
He had been gone, dead, for three years, and had finally made his return.  He had never thought three years could be that hard and agonizing; never thought he would ever miss a person that much.
Sherlock had been told he had no heart, and until he saw John heartbroken, standing by his fake tomb, he had believed it to be so. Now he knew the truth.
Sherlock Holmes has a heart, and when he left, he left it with John at 221b Baker Street.
He had barely had the time to feel the weight of it before he let it go.

  He had still felt it though; he missed John so dearly he did not know what to do with these new feelings.
Because no one, not even the best and smartest human being could understand what to do with feelings.

  The worst was when he heard song that - without him allowing them too - reminded him of John, of their home, or their time together.
He gets up from his chair in the flat and turns on the radio.

I've dialed your number, half a thousand times.
Hoping just to hear your voice on the other line.
I never had the courage to finally make that call.
I've been missing you so much,
Have you been missing me at all?

  Sherlock's heart skips a beat when the first verse is sung, because it hits right home.
He'd never tell anyone that he knows the exact number of times he's dialed John's number, without pressing the call-button. But he knows the exact number, of course he does.
1146 times exactly; once for each day he's been gone.

  I need you here now, more than ever before.
Cause if you're not by my side, then tell me what is worth living for?
I never had the courage to tell you how I feel.
But honestly I've always loved you and I promise I always will.

  He was only gone for those 1147 days because he had to, in order to keep those he cared about safe. He did it mostly for John of course, and even though he knew he would finally get to meet him again in the end, it did not feel like it was worth it while he was gone.
Because he, Sherlock Holmes, felt alone. Not in the way that he did not have anyone to talk to; no, it was because John was not by his side. And what if it failed? What if John died? Would it be worth going on without him then?

  Whilst the consulting detective was gone, he had finally admitted - and slowly grown accustomed – to his love for his blogger. It took him a while – 96 days to be exact – to discover and get familiar with the new feelings; the hole where his heart should be that was now strangely empty yet filled with warmth. It took him thirteen more days to admit it to himself, and another three weeks to actually say it out loud, to no one in particular.

  Don't take your time coming home tonight.
'Cause every second wasted I'm here holding on for life.
And with every breath I take I pray you're fine.
That I'm the boy you can't get of your mind.

  As Sherlock sits in their flat, he cannot help thinking that he wishes John would just hurry up and get back home from work.
Hoping he won't stop by the local bar.
Hoping he won't go home with a new woman again.
Hoping he won't bring a new woman back to their flat.
If he doesn't come home soon, Sherlock will turn utterly mad.
Each breath, each agonizing second, each thumping heartbeat feels like a year.

  I never had the courage to tell you this before,
But every day away from you just makes me love you more.

  He never thought he would ever feel like this, neither for a man nor a woman, but this is John; his John. And that is what makes the difference.
Each day after he realized and admitted to his love for John, he fell more and more in love with him.
He hopes he's read John's reactions wrong; hopes he won't get rejected.
Because he knows he will not be able to ignore his love, try as he may.
No matter what, he will not be able to try and act like it doesn't mean anything to him.
But he also knows he will not be able to leave John, even if it means he will have to experience long, agonizing, heartbreaking days, months, weeks, years in which John is happy with a woman, or a man for that matter.
Because he cannot deal with that.

  The door downstairs opens, closes and Sherlock hears the footsteps of John climb up the stairs; because of course he still remembers how it sounds.
But it is different. It is like their first day together; he's limping.
He begins fidgeting, doesn't quite know how to sit, doesn't know what to say, what to do, and it is so unlike him it makes him even more nervous.
But there is no going back now, this is it.

  The door to their flat opens, and John steps in, alone. He looks haggard, still a broken look in his eyes and he has that military look about him, that shift in him that happened when Sherlock watched him walk away from his fake tomb.
But as Sherlock watches him, because John has not yet seen him, that official look disappears and is replaced by a hunch, and that change is without doubt one that happens every time he steps into the flat, away from the prying eyes of the world. Mrs. Hudson is probably the only one who's seen him like this. Sherlock is certain not even Mycroft or Lestrade has seen it.
Sherlock presses the call-button on his phone, after dialing John's number for the 1147th time.

  He sees John pick up, not even checking the number, even though Sherlock has kept the same one.
"'ello?" Sherlock can hear the tiredness in his voice, even though he's trying as best as he can to cover it up.
"I love you John Watson. I always have loved you and I always will."
He sees his doctor's eyes open at the familiar voice, and he sees that he notices it comes from a place that is not his phone.
He sees John turn towards him, hears his phone drop and suddenly a fist connects with his face – John punched him just where he punched him when they were on their way to meet  Irene Adler – and suddenly Sherlock's lips are occupied by another pair; a pair driven by desperation, need, anger and want.
A pair of lips that welcomes his home.

  Sherlock's cheeks are wet with tears, and to his surprise they're his own, though they are quickly followed by John's.
"You have my deepest apologies my dearest John," he whispers against John's lips, but he is silenced by a "shut up and kiss me," from John and he happily obliges.
They will have time to talk of this later. For now, they will enjoy each other's company.