There had only been one problem for Sherlock Holmes since John had moved in with Mary. Even though he enjoyed all the experiments being in the fridge and his work not being touched, he really did miss John's company. In the general human emotional term, Sherlock was lonely. He had moved John's chair so he didn't have to have a daily reminder that John had started a new part of his life. If anyone asked, it was so he could see the kitchen and his work that was currently spread out on the table.
But the hardest part about living alone in the flat without John, was the temptation to slip back into the drug using habits. When John lived with him, it made it easier to resist the temptation but now that he was alone in the flat, he wondered who he had an obligation to. Would John ever know?
Sherlock wondered if he could even betray John's trust or if he did use if he would end up texting John for help. Would John even come?
Sherlock had no idea on any of it and decided the best thing to do was just to succumb to the strong temptations because in reality, he need to feel the high coursing through his veins. He was sure if he had to pay consequences with John later, it would be worth it.
But on this night something stopped the great Sherlock Holmes from using any kind of drugs and it was not his brother Mycroft. It was the sickening feeling of betraying his dear friend, John Watson.
This was not the case a few months later.
This might have been the night Sherlock was the most desperate for a high. He didn't give a damn about any of the consequences this time around. He knew that John was too busy just getting back from his honeymoon too respond to his texts.
He was bored and needed to feel the rush of any kind of drug and the high it brought running through his blood.
He called John, hoping he would answer and stop him.
"Hello?" John answered.
"John, you may or may not want to come to the flat." Sherlock said.
"Why Sherlock? Is it a case?" John said.
"No John. God… I need to be high. I need it." Sherlock said, with his voice starting to shake. "I feel like I need to feel the high pulsing through my veins."
"Oh God, Sherlock!" John shouted. "Jesus, Sherlock…. Do not make any stupid decisions! I will be over as soon as I can!"
Sherlock felt a rush of panic set in. He let his phone slip from his hand and made a last second decision. His stash of drugs in the cupboard in the kitchen. He was desperate and John would find him.
Sherlock administered a syringe of a drug, too incoherent to remember what he took. John would know. But all he felt was the feeling of being high and then hitting the living room floor. Too high to even stand on his own.
Another burst of panic set in for Sherlock as he thought of what his brother was going to do to him when John told him or Sherlock gave him this week's list.
But for now he had to deal with John, who burst in the flat in a panicked state.
"Jesus, Sherlock! I told you not to move!" He said.
All Sherlock could do was turn his head to John and stare. The high was too powerful. It really had been months since he had taken anything. So he wasn't used to his regular prepared doses from the cupboard.
"Sherlock? Can you hear me?" John ask, kneeling besides him and tapping his face.
"Yes" Sherlock Croaked. "Too…...much."
"Heroin? Really Sherlock? You know you could have told me or Mycroft if you were feeling close to using again?"
Sherlock stared off again. The high was overwhelming. His mind palace was unreachable from this state. It was more than a three patch problem this time.
"God. Let's go get you in bed. Let this stuff wear off and then I will talk to you."
Sherlock remembered passing out looking at john from the floor. The high of the drugs being too much for him. But he woke up in his bed with John at his side.
"John." He said, trying to sit up.
"How are you feeling?" John asked, waking up and looking at his friend.
"Awful." Sherlock moaned.
"Serves you right. To call me begging you to not do the drugs and then to take them before I have a chance to get here?" John said. "You scared the living shit out of me!"
"Sorry." Sherlock mumbled, reaching to grab his pounding head. "What did I take?"
"I am pretty sure Heroin. Jesus Sherlock!" John said. "Why don't you just get dress and I will go make some tea."
Sherlock agreed and rolled back over as soon as John was gone. He was starting to wonder what he was really more desperate for- the drugs or John. At this moment he was sure the drugs but last night he was sure John when he felt relief when he saw him in the midst of the high.
Sherlock got dressed and shuffled into the living room. John had made himself at home during the night. The couch had become his bed and the kitchen was already in the works to become John's again. It was nice not to be alone and to not have to talk to the skull.
"John." Sherlock said, sitting in his chair.
"What do you need Sherlock?" John said, putting the kettle on the stove.
"We have to deal with what happened last night." Sherlock said, softly. "With the drugs and with Mycroft."
"I would suggest you first make a list of everything you have taken since I left with Mary for the Honeymoon." John said. "Shit!"
"What is it?" Sherlock said. "Do you need to leave?"
"No I do not need to leave. It's just that I realized Mary has no idea where I am." John said. "I am going to make a couple calls. You make a list and get ahold of Mycroft. Also, drink this."
John handed him a plain cup of tea and headed for the door.
"Do nothing stupid or so help me, Sherlock, I will hurt you!"
Sherlock sighed. The list was going to be easy.
The List:
Heroin- last night.
Light cocaine use- sometimes.
That was it. The great Sherlock Holmes was ratting himself out for one larger usage. He now knew he was more addicted to John than the drugs and maybe this whole ordeal had been to get him back into the flat. That was when he realized John had moved his chair back. That meant something big was going on. Maybe John was going to stay.
That's when he sent a simple text to Mycroft:
COME TO MY FLAT.
JOHN IS HERE.
MAKE DEDUCTIONS.
-SH
Maybe he would know what it meant or maybe he would be blissfully ignorant as he usually was. Either way, Mycroft was on his way to the flat.
"Sherlock, Good news!" John said. "I am going to actually stay here awhile. Mary is going on a small two or three day trip to see some friends. I figure I would stay with you. Is your brother on his way?"
"Yes. And I made the pointless list." Sherlock said. "Also, can I use nicotine patches or no?"
"I guess. Let me see the list while you go get one. And Sherlock no more than one!"
Sherlock escaped to his room. Yes, he would get a patch but he could not sit there while john read the damn list. He checked his phone and saw one message from his brother.
CALL ME NOW
Sherlock sighed and dialed the number.
"What Mycroft?" Sherlock said.
"Why is John there?" He said. "What have you done this time, Sherlock?"
"I would have hoped John texted you last night but that doesn't matter now." Sherlock said. "I have a list. Also I am requesting you at my house."
"Sherlock, are you serious? Do I have to call mum and dad?"
"No!" Sherlock shouted. "Just come to the damn flat!"
"Don't do anything stupid between now and ten minutes from now. Also tell John to stay with you."
With that, Mycroft hung up. Sherlock decided it was a one patch showing and a hidden patch problem now. He stuck a nicotine patch to his forearm and one to his abdomen.
"Was that your brother you just called?" John asked when he reappeared.
"Nope!" Sherlock said, sarcastically. "It was my dealer."
"Sherlock!"
"I was being sarcastic." He said. "Also, one patch."
"Good. Do you want something to eat?" John asked, rising from the recently placed chair.
"Nope. Not hungry." Sherlock said, laying on the couch. "Also, I am going to my mind palace. Do not disturb me unless he gets here."
Sherlock escaped to his mind and tried to feel the high again. But instead of the high, he saw John and Mycroft's faces. Not what he wanted in his mind at this moment.
Ten minutes later he heard the sickening voice combination of John and Mycroft.
"I am pretty sure he hasn't used any heroin in the last few months." John said.
"And why do you think that?" Mycroft asked.
Sherlock sat up and saw John in his chair and Mycroft in Sherlock's usual chair.
"Because when I first met him, he could administer three of those small syringes to himself without passing out. And he wouldn't have called me then." John said.
"How many did he take?" Mycroft said.
"One. He was incoherent and on the floor when I got here. He called me saying he was desperate to be high and he really didn't want to do it." John said.
"What I think I said was, 'you may or may not want to come to the flat' and that 'I needed to be high'" Sherlock said. "Paraphrase correctly next time."
"Nice of you to join little brother. Me and your flat-mate were just talking about your drug addiction." Mycroft said.
"Too bad I am not an addict and just a user then. Makes the conversation irrelevant. "Sherlock said.
"He showed me the list. Why am I here if last night was the only time? How badly do you feel you are slipping?" Mycroft asked.
"I don't know!" Sherlock said. "I followed John's instructions this morning and made the damn list. Are you sending me to rehab or calling mom and dad? What are you doing?"
"Just taking the drugs this time, little brother." Mycroft said. "John told me that one syringe knocked you on your ass. That is enough to tell me you really have been turning in empty lists because you haven't been using except for the heroin and cocaine this week."
"I mean it Sherlock. You are handling drugs well. Even on your own. I think this was caused by being lonely and then you realized what you did." John said.
"Get everything but the patches. I will deal with them." Mycroft said. "And if you need anything, either of you, call."
Sherlock sighed and collected all the drugs from the flat. He turned them over to Mycroft and he left.
'I am proud of you Sherlock." John said, once Mycroft had left. "Proud but pissed. I am staying to look after you and make sure you don't slip. Because you really are doing good for an addict."
"Then good thing I am not an addict."