/Johnlock/
Chapter 1: In Hindsight
It had been a year, a year since what happened...happened. John wasn't coping very well, he was back in therapy, his limp had returned and the nightmares were more vivid than ever.
Back at 221b John stared blankly into his tea, it becoming colder by the minute, but he didn't care; he didn't care about much anymore. His depressive thoughts fizzling through his brain. They wouldn't stop, No matter how hard he tried. No one suspected a thing because on the outside John looked to be doing well, but they didn't know how serious things had become.
He sat in a big brown velvet armchair with golden piping running along the seams. Not a very flattering armchair, but it would suffice. He sat in front of the fire, His toes warming in woollen slippers Mrs Hudson had got him for christmas, just contemplating his plan; his secret plan; a plan no one else knew about. The only thing is, is if anyone found out they would try to stop him. But his suicidal thoughts had taken over, and no one could stop him. He had planned everything down to the last detail, where when and how.
After sitting for more than an hour, his tea stone cold hardly touched, he started to feel dizzy, he closed his eyes for a few minutes to see if it would pass. Without warning his hands began to shake violently. His breathing began to quicken and a extreme throbbing pain began in his chest just slightly to the left. He grasped his chest and cried out in pain, His tea fell to the ground and the mug smashed on the oak floor. It was like no pain he had ever experienced in his life, It was like his heart was trying to escape from his chest. He slid off the armchair and onto the red patterned rug, he felt like he couldn't breathe, he gasped, while scratching at his chest wishing for it to stop. He squirmed on the floor trying to reach the phone but the room started to spin, he looked up at the ceiling as it started to turn to mush right before his eyes.
Eventually his breathing began to slow and his eyes began to shut as his arms fell weak and flopped on the floor. He heard a faint echo of a voice "JOHN!" in his last seconds of consciousness but his vision was to blurred to see who it was. The voice sounded familiar but he couldn't decide who it was.
No one knew about Johns newly developed heart condition, not even John. Its had taken him by surprise, it had developed shortly after what happened at barts a year prior.
Next thing John knew he was in a hospital; it was barts. He opened his eyes slowly, squinting at the bright white light. He slowly sat up in bed, It was a struggle as it was still painful to move and he still felt tired and weak from his ordeal, not that he could remember much from it anyway. The only thing he could remember was that distinguished "JOHN!" he had heard when he was in that twilight state between conscious and unconscious, where you can still hear, but cant move.