Author's note: Well, I'm back after a very long pause on this story. I guess it's true when they say you always go back to the things you love! I hope you enjoy this chapter; and I hope everything still makes sense, sometimes it's hard to pick right back up on the details. I'm sorry it's short, but this is the finally chapter! Review your thoughts my loves.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything but the story itself.

Morning came a lot faster than Sherlock thought it would, sleeping had never came easy to him before, but being in the same bed as John he had been able to relax. Well, relax was what he'd wanted to say, the truth was he'd positioned John to be flush up against his chest and tangled their legs together. Yes, it was absolutely terrible that he'd done that to a defenceless John. Of course he had a lot to be disappointed in himself for in everything that had happened in the last few days.

Sherlock rolled over onto his back and looked at the ceiling, thoughts of John ran fresh through his head. Was it normal for a man his age to still wake up with morning wood? Most likely not, perhaps he should ask John's advice on it when he was better; or better yet maybe he could ask for some help with it. Sherlock ran his head lightly clothed package; he hadn't even bothered taking anything off before climbing into bed with John.

At that moment Sherlock became very aware of two things at once; one he was alone in the bed and two he could hear the shower going. It took a minute of scolding himself for not being aware of his surrounding and for sleeping on the job, when he should have been looking after John; before he realized that John could be drowning himself in the shower right now not having much movement in his limbs.

It's quite funny that he never had much motivation in life to do anything, but over the last few days he has done nothing but run full speed towards John. John really was the turning point of his life and everything that has ever meant something to him.

The bathroom door was locked and his heart pounded like it was trying to jump out of his throat, god why was John doing this to him. In one swift movement, Sherlock had the door down and was in the bathroom. He stopped in his tracks, because behind the shower curtain John was shooting at him' and he couldn't believe the words.

"Jesus hell Sherlock, Why would you bust into the room like that with a lad already in the shower? You could have bloody knocked and I would have been out in like five minutes?!" John was shouting angered, while turning off the shower and covering himself with a towel.

It was as if the last few day had never even happened. Everything that Sherlock had done, everything that they had been through together; just gone. Sherlock wasn't sure whether he should be happy or sad. Everything he had done to John was gone and he didn't have to worry about John hating him for something that had happened. Yet, Sherlock almost wished that John could remember; that way they could continue on together, and Sherlock would be given a chance to explain.

It was then that Sherlock made up his mind; John was going to know about his feelings and they were going to talk about this now. He marched over to John, pushing him back to the sink and then cornered him in with his arms. He watched as John's face slightly flushed red and he bit his lip. The thought ran through Sherlock's mind that a person would only do that when this close to another person if they were turned on and thinking about a sexual situation that could happen. That is promising.

Without saying anything, Sherlock leaded in towards John and then there lips were together. It was everything that Sherlock thought it would be, John took seconds before kissing him back; whimpering slightly, closing his eyes and bringing his hands forward to cling onto the front of Sherlock's shirt.

Sherlock's hands migrated down and hooked themselves around John's waist, tugging slightly around the towel that was barely holding up around his waist. The kisses quickly grew more aggressive and Sherlock hoisted John up to balance between the sink and his body, which John responded by wrapping his legs around Sherlock's waist. John's towel went at the same time Sherlock's shirt was flung away.

Suddenly John pulled his face slightly back and gasped; "Wait, what brought this on Sherlock?" That was one question which Sherlock really had no idea how to even begin to answer. There were so many possibilities; I've loved you since the day I found out you needed me to fix you, I've wanted us to be together since you saved my life and we laughed together like it was nothing, sometimes I text you at work just to see if you think I'm important enough to be inappropriate and answer your phone at work; I've never been more scarred then when I thought I'd lost you because of my own experiment.

He wanted to scream out all of those, but couldn't find the words. Those words didn't seem worth enough, not for someone as amazing as John. And yet, John wanted to hear something, wanted to be explained to as always, ready to listen to what ever reasoning Sherlock had come up with. "With you here, I feel as though I could do anything, be anything. I want to ruin you and make you mine, I want it to be my fault that you can't function without me, just so you can never leave me."

The silence after that was thick and painful, and the seconds trickled on like dripping water. Sherlock feared he had ruined everything before John snorted slightly and leaned forward to meet their lips together once more. "Who knew you were such a romantic." John said with a smile.

And just like that Sherlock knew John would never leave him, they would be together like two broke shards from the same mirror. They could function alone, but saw a better picture when together. Sherlock would eventually think back and realize that he never even realized he was broken until he was finally whole. Life had never been better.