I was watching these gifs for a while, especially the one of John, the distress on him, the idea of a last conversation (and, as an aside, how he is allowed to have eyelashes like that?! Unfair, unfair!), and I thought, god, what if Sherlock actually HAD tried to say it, actually tried to say it, oh my god, the agony of it all!
And I tried to play it out in my head, like, how he could ask John if he wants to hear him say it, you know, do you want this, do you want it spoken out loud, if this how you want this to go, because if you want me to say it I will, and John’s sort of, confused a bit, apprehensive, nodding, because, hey, last conversation, jesus christ, yes, whatever we need to say, put it on the damn table. And they’re so uncomfortable.
And what Sherlock would say, I keep having different variations of what he would say, if he actually said it, more intense versions and less, more on the nose and more diffuse, and its stuff like,
I have envied the people who earned your love, because I am a ridiculous man, and I never worked out how to do it.
And I never worked out what to do with the chemical fact of being in love with you, which I should have, but couldn’t and wouldn’t wish away.
So it’s sat there all this time, always, and it’s become a part of me. And now I’ve told you, so you know, and that won’t be a question for you. I do. I did. I always did.
Can you imagine?! What would John do? Mycroft and Mary are watching! But he’d be like, oh, fuck it, I’ll deal with the consequences of this later, we’re making out. That’s happening right now. At least once, man. This is unfair. So he totally goes for it, because John’s brave like that, and there’s a big dramatic kiss on the tarmac, and Mycroft and Mary are like O_O, right? Because they’re RIGHT THERE.
And then Sherlock gets on the plane, and he’s all stunned and crying, and John is stunned and crying, and Mary and Mycroft are like O_O do we talk about this, or…
And then the plane turns around.
And John is like oh shit, and Sherlock is like, oh fuck, I’m not meant to live in a world where I’ve formed those words with my actual mouth, what the hell.
And Mary is like, John…are you going to be making out with him all the time now? Because, uh…
And John is clearly going to be like, can we not talk about this right now? JESUS I’M HAVING A PANIC ATTACK AS WE SPEAK OKAY JUST LEAVE IT FOR NOW WE’LL TALK ABOUT IT AT HOME
And then there’s the incredibly awkward drive back into the city, with the three of them all jammed in the backseat, and no one’s talking, because, omg, there’s just no talking, they’re all trying to pretend that didn’t just happen and they didn’t all witness it and John and Sherlock aren’t still all sniffy with the crying and breathing too hard from the fucking panic of it all, but they’re looking out the windows as if they’re somewhere else.
And Mary’s like, do you two want me to leave you alone? Because, John, honestly, that is so not happening.
And Sherlock and John are like DO NOT TALK THERE WILL BE NO TALKING OH GOD WHAT HAVE WE DONE
Maybe this is why Sherlock just makes the joke about his name instead.
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