There was running. Chasing the figure through dark alleys, running across tiled roofs and fields. Then it ended at the narrow walkway to the dumpster, where he jumped on him. They fell on the ground, wrestling as each one of them tried to gain the upper hand. Sherlock was winning until the other man pulled out a knife. He barely realized what happened until the man raised his knife, and he felt sudden pain at his throat.
He felt something wet and sticky on his hands and when he looked down, they were all dripping crimson. The world began tip back and the lights around him started to dim. He felt his head bang against the wet stone floor and he heard John and Lestrade's voices calling at him, shouting at him about something, but he couldn't hear that well because their voices were growing fainter and fainter. And so he just laid on the ground, hands still red with blood, waiting, as the world around him started to turn black.
—
The first thing he noticed was the blackness. Continued blackness, swirling motions, waves. More waves, blackness, waves, John. John, John, John, John, John, chasing, falling, cold, wet, ground, knife, pain. Pain, pain, pain, John, pain, John, pain.
beep*
John.
beep*
Pain, John,
beep*
John.
beep*
John where are you,
beep*
Fingers. Still intact.
beep*
John,
beep*
John can't you hear me,
beep*
Sherlock moved his fingers. Just a tiny bit. It didn't hurt. His throat hurts though. It hurts a lot like it's on fire. He tried to swallow. Instead, he manage to choke. On his own saliva. Oh the irony in this.
John seemed be next to him because in a few seconds a warm hand rested on his own. He blinked his eyes a bit and attempted to look at John. Instead, all he saw was a blurry white mess. The brightness hurt his eyes so he snapped his eyes shut again.
"John," he said but all he heard was silence. Frustrated, he tried again. "John," he repeated but still, nothing came out. A wave of panic washed over him as he realized he can no longer make a sound. Was it because something was blocking his speech? Oxygen mask? John must have sensed his alarm since the heart monitor started to beep rapidly.
John only stroked his hand reassuringly, shushing him as he tried to kick the blankets off. He opened his mouth and tried again but nothing came out. It was as if something was blocking his throat, stopping the words from coming, even though he knew them clearly in his mind. His throat worked furiously, trying to get the words out but he just can't. They were stuck.
Sherlock twisted to his right then to his left, shifting in discomfort. He started to kick again, pulling his hand away from John.
"Sherlock dammit if you don't stop moving I'll have to call the nurse to put restraints on you," he said.
Sherlock opened his mouth to argue but nothing came out. Just silence. He lifted a hand to touch his throat, to see what's wrong, but John caught his hand and held it tight.
"John!" he mouthed, legs kicking and hands balled into fists as he tried to say something, anything. Couldn't he see that he was struggling?
John, John, John, John, John.
Strong hands held him down, preventing him from any movement. Something stiff was at his throat, hindering him to turn his head. He opened his eyes and saw a fuzzy image of his flatmate. "John," he mouthed. John nodded to show that he saw him. He gripped his hand even tighter and as his vision became clearer Sherlock saw hard lines of worry on John's face.
Why isn't John replying, what's wrong with him, what's wrong with his throat, why can't he speak?
I hate not knowing please someone help me, he thought, still clutching John's hand.
John, John, John, please tell me what's going on please…
All he could do was stare at John. John didn't smile. He didn't laugh. Instead, he almost seemed…sad, to see him like this.
John, he cried one more time but he knew he couldn't hear him. Because something was wrong with him, something very great, that might disable him, forever. He was so tired and the struggling really sapped all his energy. He was surprised John didn't call the doctors to restrain him. But John looked sad. He wasn't sure what to do so he tried getting John's attention again, to make him say something.
John, please help me, he said silently, but there was no reply. Only the sound of the heart monitor beside him beeped, as silence greeted him and took him back to sleep.
Hey guys, Izzy here. Just to let you know, updates will be on every Wednesday and Saturday. Though some updates will be a bit late! You are now warned… :)
