While John had little in terms of theories of what had brought him there or why, he was beginning to suspect that whoever it was delighted in putting him out of his element. He was surrounded by impossibilities; witches and superheroes and now werewolves? It was like Baskerville all over again, complete with awkward little heart to hearts with Sherlock. Of course, in this case, Sherlock's behavior was the weirdest part. So much harder to deal with than supernatural creatures or the like. He'd been enjoying his little flirt with this Minerva girl, and had actually been looking forward to the idea of getting to know her better. He should have known better than to think that Sherlock would allow it, though. Now he couldn't help wondering when Sherlock had moved on from spoiling his attempts at relationships simply because he was so contrary to spoiling them because he was legitimately jealous. A thought back to Sarah had John wondering if there had ever actually been a difference.
Sherlock had infatuated him from the start, with his manic brilliance and the fact that the more human side of him had at first seemed reserved only for John. He'd made John feel alive again, when ever since his injury he'd started seeing the world in such a dull light. The effect he had on him John was willing to admit, albeit not out loud, but he had desperately tried to ignore the growing infatuation, for several important reasons. One, he was straight ("So?" Irene Adler's voice seemed to pipe up in his head), and two, Sherlock was married to his work, so it would never happen anyway. If things had worked out with Sarah, who he had genuinely liked and who had understood the pull that Sherlock had on him, that would probably have been the end of it. They would have eventually married, and he would have moved out of Baker Street, although he knew he would never have stopped accompanying Sherlock on cases, and Sarah would have been fine with that. She might have even come along sometimes, because she had seen at least some of the appeal. After they'd broken up, something that John was entirely to blame for and actually had nothing to do with Sherlock and everything to do with his own difficulties with relationships, things had just gone downhill. None of the girlfriends that followed Sarah had understood. Most of them viewed Sherlock as nothing more than an annoying pest, getting in the way and vying for John's attention. Not a one of them could come to terms with the fact that life with John meant life with Sherlock, because in many ways they were a package deal, and each and every one of these girlfriends eventually left because of it. When it came down to a choice between them and Sherlock, a choice they always seemed insistent on putting John through, the answer would never be them.
Even if John had always sort of known that the most important relationship in his life was the one he had with Sherlock, he couldn't possibly have expected the conversation they shared that evening to go into such deep territory. A large amount of it could be blamed on the fact that the phones they'd been given were clearly on the fritz. Deleted phrases reappearing again just in time to be sent wasn't a glitch that John was used to, but it had happened over and over throughout their conversation. If their phones hadn't misbehaved in such a way, he'd have been off on a wander to find the nearest pub, and he'd have stayed there far longer than he had any need to, just to get on Sherlock's nerves. Instead... this had happened. This discussion that he really had no idea what to think of. A little part of his mind was piping up that it was about time, but the rest of him couldn't help disagreeing, because really, the timing couldn't possibly have been any worse.