*art privately commissioned from gehirnkaefer*December 24, 1:20 AM:221B Baker Street, Westminster Lo
*art privately commissioned from gehirnkaefer*December 24, 1:20 AM:221B Baker Street, Westminster London - To love is to be vulnerable - Fog had descended over London. It was chilly in the December night. John Watson could be found right outside 221B, shivering in the night air despite donning one of his more woolier jumpers. The shivers that ran though him had little to do with the temperature though. He gazed at his phone, out of habit he went to his received messages to see if Sherlock had sent him anything. It was a rather stupid habit he found terribly hard to break. He shook his head at his foolishness before typing up a message to Helen and sending it. She was insistent about John telling her if he had nightmares. More often than not she would come rushing from wherever she was to wherever John was. John had been terribly embarrassed the first few times it happened but he realized it was her way of taking care of him. It warmed his heart knowing there was someone who would hold him when the tremors shook his body, someone to tell him that everything will be alright when the images and voices in his head said otherwise.John couldn’t count the number times he had sat down here at the porch of 221B gazing at the corner of the Baker Street. Often times, like today, he did it to clear his mind of the nightmares that spring forth from the dark recesses of his mind. There was one place where Sherlock continually lived, and that was in his nightmares. A heavy sigh escaped John’s lips.He recalled other times where he simply sat there, waiting, gazing at the corner for any hint of trench coat or scarf that alluded to Sherlock Holmes returning home. Eventually he stopped looking for Sherlock and stopped waiting for him to come home. This was around the same time that Helen had come back into his life. For a time, John found himself torn. Torn between the love he had for Sherlock and the love beginning to form for this woman. Despite being broken, John knew he had a big heart and the pieces left were enough to love this woman but he was scared, scared of opening up his heart fully and find himself more broken than before. Life was full of risks, John knew that, yet for some reason he couldn’t find himself to take that leap of faith for quite some time. Yet, she waited and waited, very much like how John had waited for months for Sherlock.John sighed again and pocketed his phone, after checking the time and seeing that ten minutes had passed since he sent off the message to Helen. His fingertips had touched the little blue box that he had kept in his pocket. He fished it out and gazed at it, a smile forming on his lips. Tomorrow night would be the day he would give this to Helen, and hopefully she would say yes. A warmth erupted from his heart and spread throughout his body, coursing through his veins like the blood that flowed in him. It was hope. She did this to him. She made living easier. She made living a life without Sherlock possible. He pocketed the package once again.John gazed at the corner of Baker Street once again, may have stopped waiting for Sherlock but now he waited for someone else. His blue eyes lit up as he caught sight of Helen walking briskly towards him, her phone clutched tightly in her hand and her brow furrowed with worry. A silent “John” escaped her lips as she caught sight of him and quickened her pace, her long brown hair trailing behind her. John stood up and wavered as tremors shook his body slightly. Her eyes widened as she caught John in her arms just in time.“John.”This time he heard her gentle voice, which was laced with concern and something else he couldn’t quite identify.“S-sorry, Helen.”Helen drew him closer into her warm embrace, gently tracing circles at the small of his back. It was a well practiced movement that calmed John down.“Nightmare?”John nodded sullenly, burying his face into her hair. He took in her scent. It strongly reminded John of lilacs. He allowed the scent to fill his lungs. Slowly he exhaled a calming breath, reducing the tremors ever so slightly. He wrapped his arms around her thin frame and the both of them just stood there in the icy London night, the breaths they exhaled visible in the cool air.During moments of weakness the seed of doubt sprouts into something more, and it was during this time that John’s old doubts resurfaced from the depths of his aching heart. He was the first to break the embrace. Green eyes filled with compassion looked into his own brown ones.“What do you see in me?” John said quietly. John was confused, he was a broken man afterall, why would anyone want him? A broken man whose heart belonged to a long dead man. John looked away from Helen, with a look of resignation on his face.“John.” Helen said, her voice steady despite the low temperature. She placed a tender hand on his face, and caressed his cheeks in her gloved palm.“You are capable of so much love John. I can see you loved him very much. Yet John…” She tilted his face to the side so John could see those beautiful deep green eyes once again. “You have to live John. No longer for him, but for yourself. The world continues to move one, and so should you. You continue to love him by remembering.” Helen said quietly, letting her words sink in as she looked into John’s brown eyes. John saw nothing but the truth there yet something else was bothering him.“If I.. If we..” John sighed in frustration, not able to articulate what his heart desires to say. “I’m afraid I would forget. I’ve already begun to. I can’t… I owe you much more than what I can give. Sherlock. He… I…” john trailed off, unsure of what else to say.The beauty in John and Helen’s relationship is that the understood each other. Helen understood how much Shelrock means to John. Helen drew John into another embrace as she whispered into his ear. “I could never replace Sherlock Holmes, a man who clearly has found a place in your heart. And he will stay there forever I am sure. I’m not asking you to forget or to let go.” She carded his fingers into his brown locks. John closed his eyes at the gesture, getting lost in the motions. “Just please… let me in John. Please.”It was a phrase Greg Lestrade had often told him in the past, yet in those countless times he rarely yielded. But now, this one person, this woman in front of him was tearing at his defenses so easily. All the months spent at building those walls around his heart was for naught, or perhaps not. She understood how much Sherlock means to him and she wasn’t asking John to forget. It was at that moment that John realized one thing:He could finally move on without looking back.John melted into her embrace and allowed one word to pass through his lips. “Helen.” The words trembled, resembling the fear that was gripping his heart.“I’m broken.. and I’m afraid, Helen. Afraid that… my heart would break again. I don’t think I could….”Helen held a finger against John’s lips, stopping him from saying anything more.“To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything and your heart will be wrung and possibly broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact you must give it to no one, not even an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements. Lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket, safe, dark, motionless, airless, it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable.” She stopped, caressing John’s cheek once again. “To love is to be vulnerable.”* She finished quietly. Helen was a smart woman. Not a genius like Sherlock but smart enough to know certain things about life and perhaps, love. She leaned into John and gave him a deep kiss that was enough to calm the doubts that had sprung forth during his moment of weakness. Helen was the first to withdraw, looking up at John with a small smile on her lips. Lacing his hands into hers, John simply stared back. This was the woman who was slowly unlocking his heart. *Helen Rose quoted C.S. Lewis’s views on ‘to love’ -- source link
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