You've read my mind - A Johnlock Oneshot

Note: Anything in Italics is Sherlock and John's thoughts.

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Just because it's silent, doesn't mean that someone isn't speaking. To some, silence can be equal to a million words being spoken.

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If there is one thing that Sherlock Holmes is notorious for, other than his amazing deductive prowess, it would be his constant unusual experiments which, more often than not, include the use of dangerous chemicals or other hazardous things. Normally, Sherlock has control of the experiment enough that nothing bad ever happens because of them, but there are times where, while it is rare, an experiment will backfire and can cause damage to the flat or have other adverse side effects.

Today, was one of those rare times.

Sherlock had been in the kitchen preforming some sort of experiment; what it was for and why he was doing it, even John didn't know. John didn't ask questions about it - he had learned that he would rather NOT know what Sherlock was experimenting for - And he simply walked around him to put away the food be had bought from the store. After a few seconds though he heard an odd bubbling noise, and before he knew it he heard Sherlock's voice.

"John, get down!"

Sherlock pulled John to the floor, and a few seconds afterwards the experiment went unstable and exploded, sending it's contents in all directions, The gooey, blue, liquid chemical mixture splashing all over the floor and some hitting Sherlock and John.

After the explosion settled, Sherlock stood up to survey the damage it had done. The kitchen was covered in the chemical mixture but it was nothing that couldn't be cleaned.

"John, are you alright?" Sherlock asked. "Don't worry, the chemicals are not toxic."

John stood up from the floor. "Other than being covered in your experiment, yeah... I'm fine."

Sherlock glanced around the kitchen while he spoke to himself. "Well... That was not the result that I expected..."

John sighed and thought to himself, "I swear to fucking god, Sherlock... You and your experiments."

"No need for such language, John."

John looked towards Sherlock with a confused look on his face. "What? I didn't say anything."

"Yes you did," Sherlock insisted. "I heard you clear as day."

"But, I didn't SAY anything."

"Yes. You did." Sherlock replied, still just as insistent. "You said, I swear to fucking god, Sherlock."" He repeated John's words while imitating him.

"Wh-wait. I didn't say that though!" John was still confused. "Well... not out loud at least."

"You were thinking it..."

"How did you hear my thoughts!?"

"I'm not sure." Sherlock responded. He took a moment to think to himself how this could have happened. It isn't uncommon for two people who know each other well to know that the other is thinking from time to time, but to know they're thoughts word for word is taking that to an extreme. Possible cause... considering the most recent event, obviously related to the exploding experiment. Adverse side effect then. What sort of side effect? Higher cognitive thinking. Heightened ability to recognize the others thoughts. Telepathy.

"Telepathy? Sherlock, this isn't a science fiction movie. Telepathy doesn't exist."

Sherlock stared at John for a few moments before he responded. "Then how did you hear me? I didn't open my mouth to speak at all."

"I... I..."

Sherlock had a hunch, he just needed to prove it. He didn't speak out loud, only thought of what he was saying in his head. "Don't speak, John. Just think, and answer me. Can you hear me?"

John's eyes widened in shock. "Y-yes, I can hear you! Sherlock, how is this even possible?!"

"I'm not exactly sure yet, but it seems that when the experiment exploded and the chemicals got on us it somehow modified out minds and gave us both the ability to hear each others thoughts.

"So... I can hear what you're thinking and you can hear what I'm thinking?" John said... or well, thought.

"That seems to be the case." Replied Sherlock.

John was amazed. "Wow... That's-"

"Kind of amazing, yes." Sherlock finished John's sentence for him.

"Yeah."

A few moments passed before either of them spoke, or thought, again. "We can't tell anyone about this." Sherlock said.

"Why do you say that?"

"If we tell anyone, even Lestrade, word will spread. It's an inevitable result, and if that happens the scientific community, not to mention the news media, would have a hay-day."

"Yeah... You're right."

"So we need to keep this information between us. At least until we figure everything out."

"Agreed."

---

Later, Sherlock's phone rang and it was Lestrade calling about another crime scene they needed Sherlock to look at.

"Sherlock, do you think we really should be leaving when we still haven't figured out this whole... telepathy thing?"

"It should be fine. We just can't make it obvious in any way."

Sherlock told Lestrade that they would be there and the hung up his phone.

Not long after they left the flat, Sherlock and John arrived at the crime scene and were greeted by Lestrade. The DI led them to the scene and told them what information they already knew.

Sherlock as usual was walking around the scene, assessing it from all the angles and trying to collect all the information he could. He stood next to John, still glancing around. "The killer, John. What do you think their motive was?"

"I am standing right next to you. You couldn't just talk to me? Out loud?"

"Speaking this way keeps the idiots like Donovan and Anderson out of the conversation. Plus, you have to admit this is more fun." Sherlock said in response.

"Well, alright. I can't very well argue with that."

The two of them used their newfound telepathic connection to speak about the crime scene without having anyone interrupt. It was Sherlock who did most of the talking, as usual, but this was different now. John could hear how Sherlock thought about and reasoned out the crime, and having this look into Sherlock's thought process was even more impressive than usual. John couldn't help but offer is usual praise, plus feel somewhat privileged being able to have a look into Sherlock's mind.

Soon enough, Sherlock had all the information he needed and told Lestrade exactly what happened, and who to arrest for the murder.

After he delivered the information to the DI, Sherlock began walking away. As he did, however, he suddenly started feeling nauseous and sick. He hadn't felt ill just a few seconds ago and he was confused about this sudden ailment.

Behind him, John, who was still talking with Lestrade, had the same sort of nauseous feeling. It was such a sudden feeling and he didn't know the cause. John saw Sherlock stumble on his feet and fall to the ground and immediately walked over to him to make sure he was okay. He helped him up and asked, "You okay?"

"Uh... Yeah." Sherlock responded, noticing that he no longer felt nauseous "I am now."

John nodded and the two of them left the crime scene. Anderson and Donovan both gave them odd looks as they left, but they simply ignored that idiot duo.

---

When they got back to the flat, John wasted no time asking Sherlock what had happened. "What happened back there, Sherlock? You walked away and I suddenly started feeling nauseous. Why did that happen? I know it has to be somehow related to the telepathy."

Sherlock looked at him. "I have a theory." He said. "Stand right here for a second." Sherlock then started walking away from John. After the distance between then got past a certain point, that feeling of sickness came back in both of them. Sherlock walked back to John and, just as suddenly as the feeling came, it went away, just like that. "It seems that the mental connection we share is stronger than we at first thought. When we are not in close proximity to each other it appears that it makes us physically ill and weak."

John was slightly confused but had come to learn that all of this was nothing that was directly explainable. "Well... we need to find a way to fix that then."

Wanting to find a solution to this problem, Sherlock tried to replicate his previous experiment - minus the exploding part - and figure out what happened. What caused the explosion? What combination of chemicals became unstable? How did said combination affect their minds in such a way that they could hear each other's thoughts? There were so many questions that they needed to answer, yet there was seemingly no way to do so. No matter what they tried, the answers wouldn't come forth.

Sherlock needed to think more into this.

Knowing that they had to stay close together to prevent the ill feeling from returning, Sherlock had John follow him into the living room.

Sherlock sat on one side of the couch while John sat on the other.

While Sherlock was in his usual thinking position, John could still hear all of his thoughts. It was strange because if he closed his eyes, he could almost see into Sherlock's "Mind palace." He could see all of the facts and little bits of information that Sherlock was going through to find a solution. Information about numerous topics went by. Ones that might help their situation were saved on the side, and information that wasn't relevant at all was skipped over and pushed to the back of the mind palace. A seeming endless swirling vortex of knowledge came and went, branching of into different subjects, piece together the information and trying to solve the puzzle that would reveal the answer.

John has expressed often enough that he was amazed by Sherlock, but this was so much different.

John knew that when Sherlock was in his mind palace he barely ever responded. He would block out the outside world so he could focus better on the information he was looking for. Knowing this, he let his mind wander a bit. "God, Sherlock. Whenever I think that I've seen it all, you continue to amaze me. Yeah, Yeah, I know. I'm being repetitive by saying it again, but really your mind is amazing. Having the chance to see into that head of yours is an experience like no other. It almost makes me not want to get rid of this telepathy thing. Well, aside from the "not being able to be too far away from each other without feeling sick." part. Actually, that might not be much of a factor anyway. I don't mind being close to you... Although that would mean that we wouldn't be able to sleep in our own bedrooms, because they're too far apart. We'd both have to sleep in the living room or something. Or the same bedroom. Probably yours. Yours is bigger I think. Not big enough for two beds though. We'd have to sleep in the same bed. It's funny, because I'd be okay with that. It's not what normal flatmates do, but we're not normal flatmates. Hell, I've come to terms with the fact that I might even have other feelings for you. No, I'm not going to sugar coat things. Screw that. I'm in love with you. Yeah, I said it. Now... if only you weren't in your mind palace and were actually able to hear me.

Sherlock opened his eyes and looked at John at that last sentence.

John noticed Sherlock looking at him with an odd look. "What?"

"I heard what you said, John."

John started panicking. He hadn't meant to say anything. Or even think of it. His thoughts were just running wild like they had a mind of their own. He hadn't meant for Sherlock to find out about it at all. "I-I-" He stuttered and stumbled over his words, thinking to himself, "Oh, bloody hell."

"Why didn't you say something about it before?" Sherlock asks.

John hesitated, still not sure of what he was going to say to Sherlock now that he knew. He decided on not speaking out loud. "...Because... you are my best friend and I wasn't about to kill that friendship with feelings that you wouldn't return." He had a strong urge to get up and run off to his room, but he knew that if he did, he'd only make them both feel ill again.

Sherlock turned and moved closer to John. "John... You can read my thoughts too... Read them now."

"Sherlock I-"

"Don't speak, John... just listen."

John was quiet and listened to what Sherlock thoughts had to say.

"John, you have no reason to fear. Throughout this whole experience of having a telepathic mental connection with you I've kept my thoughts in check. I've controlled them; Made sure they hadn't strayed off. I did so because more often than I'd like to admit, I find my mind wandering to thoughts of you. You, John. It's a common occurrence that dates back to the day that we first met, and even since then you still occupy my mind every day. Sometimes it's distracting; I'll be thinking about a case and then suddenly my mind will jump over to you. I've had time to think about why this happens; why you seem to creep up into every part of my mind. I ask myself everyday what this could even mean and I came to a conclusion a while ago. You say that I wouldn't return your feelings, but oh, John Watson, you could never be more wrong. I may not be an expert at expressing my emotions, but I can say this: I am in love with you, just as you are in love with me, if not more." While thinking all of this, Sherlock had gotten progressively closer to John and now their faces were only a few inches apart. Silence hung in the air for quite a few moments before Sherlock spoke again, out loud this time. "...I love you, John."

John didn't even know how to respond. He sat there and tried to say something, anything, but he couldn't seem to. words failed him and even his mind seemed frozen.

If he was going to say or think anything, he was interrupted when Sherlock closed that small distance between their faces and captured his lips. John was still frozen in place for a few seconds before he let his eyes fall closed and relaxed into the kiss. He lifted his hands and tangled them into Sherlock's hair, holding him there. The kiss was hesitant at first, just gentle presses of lips, but after a few moments it grew deeper.

The need for air was the only thing that broke them from the kiss.

Their eyes were still shut, their foreheads pressed together and hands still on each others faces.

"John."

"Yeah, Sherlock?"

"You were right. My room is bigger."

John laughed a bit before he kissed Sherlock again. "You've read my mind."