I do not own this show at all. Now that that is out of the way please enjoy the story.
John Watson sat in the chair looking down at the pale corpse like man on the hospital bed. He watched the steady rise and fall of the blanket covering the man's chest and the fog on the breath mask that appeared with each new breath. There were more wires and tubes attached to the body than he'd ever thought could be attached to one person even as a doctor. He scrutinized the too familiar face a strange mix of horror and wonder pasted over his features. He shifted in his seat trying and failing to get comfortable as he tried to think of something, anything to say. Resigned to the fact that this was going to be awkward no matter what he did he cleared his throat once, twice before gathering the nerve to speak.
"Hello there, uh I'm not sure if you can hear me. I'm not even sure of anything now, but I felt like I needed to talk to you. I think I have to do this now or I won't ever get another opportunity to. I'm not sure what I should say but I should get to saying it and I don't know get some things off my chest, clear the air, and all that. I feel like I'm talking to myself." John laughed in a way that was far from normal. It was strained and streaked with the beginnings of madness and hysteria as his mind warped the turn of phrase into a rather morbid joke.
He calmed, not for a long while, but the hysteria ended. He looked down at the body, at the waxen frail man in the bed and tried not to see what he knew was there. He gave a small broken smile and drew in a deep breath before it could degenerate into a sob. "This, oh god this is so much harder than I thought I'd be. Even if you're not awake it still feels like you're judging me, accusing me and I feel like I deserve it. I won't be around to face whatever you would do but if you want someone to blame when you wake up, because you will wake up, blame Mycroft. He's the one who made me into this, he's the one who put you here, he's the one who stole away your life. I just wanted you to know that if I had it my way you'd be awake and well sipping tea with Mrs. Hudson and solving dangerous cases with..." he trailed off his voice breaking in pain.
"I'm sorry." His chest was being crushed by guilt and anger and sadness as tears slipped from his eyes. He took great heaving breaths that hitched and shook like a car trying and failing to start. "I'm so sorry. You were shot and you fell in a coma and you never woke up because of me. Its Mycroft's doing but still it's me, everyone is going to suffer all because of me. I'm sorry I didn't know I swear I never knew. Not until the pool incident was over and Mycroft asked me to show him my hand again. I refused but he just grabbed it anyway the git. He pulled my sleeve up pressed into my wrist so hard it hurt and my wrist just popped open like that scene from bloody Star Wars."
"I'm an android apparently at least that's what Mycroft called me. I'm just a thing made of circuits and wires and I wish I'd known you. I guess we can start here. Hello I'm the thing that stole your life." John gave a smile that was ruined by watering eyes and trembling lips.
He took a few moments and just sat there under the weight of self-accusation until he frowned and leaned forward looking intently at the man in the bed. The man whose face he wore like it was his own, like it wasn't stolen, like it wasn't a mask put on to hide the fake underneath. "I have so many questions, so much I want to know. Are you all you're cracked up to be or is it true that no one could ever survive the madness that is Sherlock Holmes? Would you have done it? Would you have chased down a serial killer for a man you've barely met? Would you have killed a man for him less than forty eight hours after you met him? Would you share a flat with the world's biggest pain in the neck?"
"I hope you are everything I was or am. I'm not sure how it works. They say you're connected to me somehow, but I don't know how. Am I just you or computer code or some insane mix of the two? Am I just a machine? Am I a man driving an android body like a car? I could drive myself insane asking questions I will never know the answer to. I have some news though I won't be you for much longer. Apparently John Watson was the final test phase of this Android thing I am. If Sherlock Holmes thought I was a real person then everyone else will too and this thing is pretty much guaranteed to fool everybody. I'm going to be a henchmen next, one of Moriarty's men. I'm going to betray him, maybe even kill him. I want all I am to be you, and at the same time I don't. I want some part of me to remain an android so I can be the one who puts an end to him. At the same time I can't stand the thought of betraying Sherlock like that." He took a deep breath.
"I think that they did a good job making me look like you, though I think I look better than you at the moment. No offence meant but you have been lying there for some time. Mycroft says you tried to wake up twice but they put you under again. Sorry for that by the way but I didn't have much say in the matter. Actually I didn't have any say at all. Like I said earlier if it were up to me you'd be the one chasing after criminals with Sherlock and trying to defuse the time bomb that is Sherlock's interactions with the police. You know the boys at Scotland Yard are never going to let Sherlock live this down. His flat mate's a bloody robot and still more human than him." John gave the unconscious man a sad weak smile his eyes still puffy and red from tears he'd shed earlier.
He felt a hot tear cut a path down his cheek. "I'm crying. I'm bloody crying." He wiped his wet eyes with the sleeve of his jumper. "I always thought I'd face my death with dignity, but this isn't a dignified death. This is some sick joke I want no part of. I want to be real I want to wake up and have this whole mess be just a dream. I was supposed to stay longer, I was supposed to live in ignorance for a long time, but the pool changed that. The pool changed everything because it was okay for me to die for Sherlock but Mycroft won't let his brother waste his life dying for an automaton."
He gave himself a bitter smile. "See as long as Sherlock didn't care about me it was good. I kept him from getting into too much trouble, but he cares. They say he isn't human, he is though, and he has a heart no matter how much he pretends otherwise. He seems like he doesn't care, but he does in his own way."
He looked down at the body on the table. "You should find him when you wake up. It'll be good for you if you're anything like me at all, you'll like him. He'll turn your whole life around, make it all worthwhile. He's the worst best friend in the history of best friends, I could go on and on about his flaws for ages. He leaves body parts in the fridge, he never goes shopping, he will drag you out of bed in the middle of the night to solve cases, who knows what he does to all the milk, he will never clean any mess he makes and forget about him cleaning the flat, he insults my blog and my person at least five times a day, he plays the violin at god awful hours in the morning, he will always have the last word even if he has to fight for it, he's ruined every relationship I've tried to make which in hindsight probably isn't a bad thing with me being a robot and all, and he is the best friend you'll ever have."
The door opened and Mycroft walked in. The British Government leaned on his umbrella a false sad smile on his lips. "Time's up Doctor."
"Time's up then." John said as he stood. He looked down at the body and shook his head before looking at Mycroft. "So what are you going to tell Sherlock? I can't just disappear without an explanation. He's going to know something's wrong. He's going to go looking for me and you know he isn't going to stop."
"I'll just tell him the truth. That you are for reasons quite out of your control unable to stay with him at 221b Baker Street even though you would like to. I will also take the liberty of informing him that contacting you would be a waste of time as you will be otherwise occupied and unable to respond back in any way." Mycroft said with an unsettling fake smile.
"And he'll just believe that then." John said sarcasm dripping from his words.
"He won't have any choice but to believe it Doctor now as I said earlier time's up. We have to get you ready for your new face." Mycroft said as he held open the door.
"You're a fool if you believe that Mycroft." John said as he frowned and followed Mycroft into the hallway watching the man spin his umbrella around. He walked like a soldier with his back straight and his head held high. He ignored the curious pride filled looks sent his way by the lab technicians and scientists who had helped make him and thought of the man on the bed whose life he'd stolen. What kind of man was the real Captain John Hamish Watson? He feared he would never know.