A/N: This was going to go in my One Shot Pile up but I decided nah... it was too long! It's a good old fashioned Sherlolly, Uni!Lock. Enjoy!
Cupid had had enough of Sherlock's cold arrogance. He narrowed his eyes at the haughty student before him and watched the scene carefully.
Perfect. One mousey girl buried in a Doctor Who scarf with her arms full of books. Cupid took aim and his arrow hit Sherlock in shoulder as expected. The force of the unseen assailant knocked the young man clear off his feet and into the unsuspecting girl who had been hurrying past him. But as a flustered Sherlock stood, prepared to leave in a swift and dignified manner with the girl sprawled upon the floor, her papers jumbled, he caught her eye and his whole world slowed.
She was beautiful.
He couldn't take his eyes off her until she huffed and collected the papers scattered around their collision site.
"Here let me." His voice caught her off guard and she pauses briefly. All she was aware of, was some talk dark stranger had seen fit to knock her down and mess up her dissertation notes. It would take ages to bring order back to them. But as she stared up at him she hadn't the heart to harangue him.
"Thank you." She whispers as he collects the papers in a random fashion. Bang goes her evening, the sour thought is barely acknowledged though.
All she realises is that this stranger is gorgeous! He had dark hair that would be too long if it wasn't for the sinful curls that clustered around this stranger's beautiful angular face. They were curls that begged for her fingers to run through. He was tall. About a foot taller than her so she has to crane her neck when they finally stand up just to see those piercingly intelligent eyes.
She realises they're just staring at one another. Neither of them doing or saying anything and yet they stand in the middle of the blustery square. She smiles a little weakly and nervously plays with a strand of her own hair before shifting her papers in her arms.
"Sorry about that." He murmurs and she is caught by his lazy smile.
Cupid grins arrogantly, cracks his knuckles and vanishes in a soft rose scented whoosh.
What he doesn't see is Sherlock's mood change. He refuses to get dragged down by the sudden emotions that this girl has instilled in him and his face closes off suddenly to her.
"But watch where you're going next time..." He hisses and storms away in the direction from which he'd come. He refuses to break face and have to walk past the stunned beauty he left and takes the long route back to his dorm
~S.H~
When Cupid returns in a week, prepared to see Sherlock all curled up his new beau he is horrified to find the man glaring at a bag of white powder on his desk. The mousey haired girl is nowhere to be seen and Cupid is suddenly furious. The window in Sherlock's room suddenly flies open, much to the youth's confusion and in the chaos of swirling paperwork, Cupid promptly takes the drugs. The angel sweeps from the room to hunt out the brunette girl and finds her ready to leave a class. As if the Fates were giving him a helping hand, as the girl packed out her bulging backpack, and left the building, Sherlock was sweeping across the courtyard in a fury, searching for his dealer.
Once more, without Cupid's arrow this time, the pair collided and the force of which sent the girl sprawling on her backside once more. As Sherlock stood, ready to sweep past, an irrational anger made her grab his ankle and brought him down on the grass beside her.
"What do you think… oh it's you." He sneered. "Who are you and why do you keep getting in my way?!" He shouts, brushing the mud off his coat.
"I'm Molly Hooper and maybe if you weren't so doped up on heroin you'd damn realise it was your fault." She shouted, her fury still burning brightly. She managed to haul herself to her feet, ignoring the muddy patches on her knees and she punched Sherlock hard in the arm.
"What do you think you were doing?" He growled, stepping forwards.
"Stay off the heroin and maybe you'll actually pass your classes." She growled.
"How do you know about my classes?" He narrowed his eyes at the inconvenience before him.
"Because I know your sodding roommate. Victor says it's like an opium den in your room." Molly snaps back.
"How do you know Victor?"
"He's my cousin you moron, you'd notice a bit more if you were eyes weren't clouded with various drugs you twat." She snarls and yanks her backpack higher. But before a drug addled Sherlock can say anymore, she's left him standing in the middle of the quad, while she stalks back off towards the accommodation buildings which is the opposite way to where his dealer would meet him.
~S.H~
Cupid had watched the interlude with interest. Apparently his choice of girl for the arrogant student had closer connections that he realised, but how to use that?
His first battle would be getting Sherlock clean. Well if Cupid was going to win this war, he'd just have to present himself to Sherlock and argue this one out…
That's why when Sherlock was next glassy eyed, his trip would be a rather bad one.
He dreamt that a blonde haired man stood in his room, neatly dressed in a suit and was berating him for his drug use when he was letting opportunities pass him by. Only when Sherlock resolutely ignored him, the man got irate. Wings spread from his back and his beautiful face twisted into something ugly. Suddenly Sherlock was frightened, the man leant over him on the bed, his eyes dark and flashing.
"I may be the God of Love Sherlock Holmes but I can also bring pain to your life and I will unless you buck your ideas up." He snarled. "Get off the opiates Sherlock and you won't see me again, stay on them and I'll visit you every time." With this warning the man vanished in a burst of light and Sherlock saw nothing for the rest of his trip. There were no lights, no dawning comprehensions, no thoughts that detangled before him, just a numb feeling through his body and a sensation of nothingness in his mind.
As he came too in a cold sweat he found Victor leaning over him, the other man's fingers feeling for a pulse.
"I'm still alive." Sherlock snapped, going to push his roommates hand away but finding he could barely move his arm.
"Bad trip Sherlock?" Victor said sourly, spying the paraphernalia on the desk.
"Something like that." The chem student sniffed and struggled to sit up, the dream stuck out rather starkly in his mind and made him feel a little nauseous.
~S.H~
As the vision had promised when Sherlock next injected he came back. He stood there, berated Sherlock for fifteen minutes and left the student with the same paralysed sensation. This happened several more times and Sherlock at last felt scared. When it took him half hour to move properly after coming around, he had to admit he really did feel scared of what his brain was producing.
There was a knock on his door when he finally managed to swing his legs round, off the bed and the door opened to reveal the girl that had shouted at him on the quad. Who was she? Who was she? He knew this one…? The sluggishness hadn't left his mind properly and his tongue wasn't working. But he managed one word.
"Help." He said quietly and Molly, who had been leaving when she saw Victor wasn't in the room stopped and stared. She looked at the gaunt man before her and despite her intentions telling her to leave him to it, she sighed and came in.
"Bad trip?" She asked gently, looking around the tip that constituted as Sherlock's side of the room. He nodded dumbly, his tongue still felt like it was stuck to the roof of his mouth. "You're in a mess and a half aren't you?" She hummed, shucking her coat and laying it on Victor's bed. "Water, sip it." She handed him her open bottle and he managed to take it with a shaking hand.
"Thanks." He had slopped half of it down himself but Molly didn't blink an eye, instead she found a clean towel and cleaned him up.
An hour later, she had managed to clean up some of the mess and had dressed him in clean clothes. The sheets had been stripped and he was sat on a bare mattress while Molly, ever practical, fixed his messes. That was how Victor found Sherlock, while Molly had run out to the student laundrette to collect his drying bedclothes.
"Victor." Sherlock was feeling more human, but his voice was husky. "Victor I want to get clean. I can't do it anymore. I can't see the nightmares anymore." What had started out as an experiment (to see how LSD affected the mind) had rapidly devolved into heavy drug use and Sherlock's stomach roiled as he realised how badly he was addicted.
"About time." His childhood friend wasn't exactly hard-hearted but Sherlock always needed someone to be firm with him. "We'll get you to rehab. Your mum will be relieved you want to finally get off it…"
"My mother knows?" Sherlock said dumbfounded.
"Yeah, you went back home on reading week and it was obvious to all of us there you were doped up, but I think your family will pull together around you." He said nothing of the rehabs that Mycroft had already phoned around, knowing it would only fire up the sibling rivalry and possibly change Sherlock's mind.
"Then yes. I need to get clean." Sherlock grunted, pulling the blanket Molly had wrapped him around himself a little tighter.
"Yes. You do." Molly sighed as she came back in, "now shift your butt to his bed while I put your sheets back on. Then you're going to sleep, while I fix a few more things, like ringing the admin to tell them you'll be taking a sabbatical." She rattled off as Victor slid his arm under Sherlock's elbow to heft his friend over.
Her patter of what she was going to do to organise his life almost had a sarcastic comment slipping from his tongue but from the corner of his eye he saw the blonde haired man sat on the windowsill and Sherlock said nothing.
Cupid left the trio, sure that finally his arrow had worked.