Just a little Drabble that I HAD to write after that tiny little piece of dialogue...let me know what you think?
"The thrill of the chase, blood pumping through your veins...just the two of us against the rest of the world!"
His lip still stings, and blood drips into his mouth when he says the last words, but he's smiling. His body thrums with energy, as it hasn't in nearly three years. He's been running, and hiding, and hurting, with no one but his brother to communicate with. Once upon a time, that wouldn't have bothered him. But the isolation burns now, without John.
John.
His best friend is staring at him, shaking his head, angry and hurt(of course he is, of course he's hurt, he thought Sherlock was dead) He doesn't say anything. He just stares.
Sherlock looks back, a little worried now, not knowing quite what to expect. Surely John remembers? Remembers running through the rain-streaked streets of London, leaning against a wall to laugh together, giggling at crime scenes, long night listening to the sound of violin music? Doesn't he remember the thrill of solving a case, the smiles they would share, how they'd go out to dinner afterwards and insist they weren't a couple...
How can he have forgotten? The way John looks at him now, tears in his eyes, lips trembling, face fighting for that perfectly blank soldier expression...
Just the two of us against the rest of the world.
Oh, John.
He can't stand the idea that it might permanently be him, might forever be Sherlock battling against the world. John is the one who'd looked at him that first day in Saint Barts, and thought him amazing. He'd helped shoulder the burden of a hating world.
Sherlock has endured the burden alone for three years. He can't stand the thought of doing it anymore.
One more miracle, Sherlock, for me. Don't. Be. Dead. The words that Sherlock had heard, hiding in the shadows of the cemetery, came back to him. He'd given John his miracle. He'd come back, and now he's staring at his friend's empty expression and his lip is swelling.
Don't be an idiot John.
John isn't an idiot, but Sherlock knows he's hurt him, and hurt him deep. He's scattered the fundamental core of John's being-his emotions and his loyalty.
Just the two of us against the rest of the world.
Please, Sherlock begs, please stay with me John.
I can't stand the world much longer.
