Hellloooo! Welcome to my lovely ONESHOT! Okay so moving on I hope you enjoy this one!
No John yet. But he works on MET cases in this point of time. He also knows Molly and has had a relationship with her for about a year.
The cool rubber on his arm was tightened. He watched with impatiently as the veins began to show themselves on his arm.
His head was buzzing with the constant activity, this and that, why and when, who and what. The thoughts never ceasing.
Dark rings were under his bloodshot eyes from many sleepless nights. His mind pounded from lack of sleep and the endless ticking of his brain.
"How ironic. My one asset and my one sense of pride is devouring me."
Holding the small needle with more than the usual dosage, he plunged his last hope into the dark veins on his arm. All the thoughts, all the trails in his mind, the questions, the answers all hushed. There was nothing, nothing in his mind but pure bliss.
He heard his door open but didn't register it. Nothing mattered, not even the fact that he felt his conciseness slipping away from him. The light footfalls he heard make his way into his bedroom were insignificant, even the gentle voice he heard that became alarmed in the fog of his high.
She gently pushed door open to his flat, knowing he never answered the knocks anyway. They came to an agreement last month when she began regularly coming to his flat to drop of body parts.
"It's annoying."
"What is?"
"The knocking."
"But Sherlock, it's-"
"Just open the bloody door if I don't want you I'll say so."
His flat was a mess, as usual, things strewn about, biohazards that cluttered up his kitchen. She didn't dare touch them knowing he would be extreme angry if she touched his personal experiments. She was surprised to find he wasn't in the common areas of his flat. The curtains were drawn and only one lamp in the open living room was on, light spilling into the kitchen/dining room. She went over to his bathroom to find the door open and no one inside.
Her heart began to speed up and a knot of worry formed in her stomach. She checked her watch and read 5:00pm. So he should be home. The only other room he could be was his bedroom. She made her way over to the remaining room.
"Sherlock! Sherlock I have the-." She dropped the bag of fingers on the floor and screamed. On the bed lay Sherlock. His skin was deathly pale and his eyes glazed over. The needle sticking out of his arm sent shivers up her spine.
Her medical training clicked her mind into auto pilot. Running over to his side she removed the band and needle from his arm. She placed it on the nightstand knowing that will be useful for later.
She placed her shaking fingers to his neck to find a pulse. A breath of relief escaped her lips when she felt a faint fluttering pulse. It wasn't much, but it was there.
His shirt was gone in a matter of seconds buttons flying everywhere as she ripped it off of him. She began to administer CPR to His lifeless body. Hoping to bring life back into him. After a few thrusts she pinched his nose and watched his chest rise as she breathed into him. He didn't react and her chest clenched I'm fear.
"No! Sherlock you can't do this to me! You can't leave me!"
Suddenly he began to cough. A small gleam of hope fluttered in her stomach. She stroked his hair and looked into his eyes.
"Sherlock? Sherlock wake up." He hazily opened his eyes and looked up at her. He whispered something but she couldn't hear him. She looked at him confused and leaned down to hear him better.
"Don't call Myrcoft." And he slipped back into the blackness.
And she did just that.
His head was pounding with pain. The quiet whispers in the room were painfully loud to his sensitive ears. He groggily opened his eyes only to quickly shut them again. He moved his hand to shield his eyes discovering the action caused a slight pinch in his arm. Forcing his eyes open, despite the blinding light, he saw a needle in his arm attached to a bag of fluid. Then it made sense, he was in a hospital room.
He was angry. The emption flared in his chest causing him to clench his fists. This hospital could only mean one thing.
She told Mycroft.
Sherlock looked around the room his eyes finally adjusting to the harsh lights and white room. The person of interest was sitting in the chair next to his bed sound asleep. To his surprise the angry flare in his chest settled at the sight of the petite pathologist curled up in the hard chair. He tore his eyes away fearing the awkward warmth that spread throughout him. The anger flared up again when he saw his brother standing at the foot of his bed.
"Don't be angry with her." Mycroft stated. His brother always seemed to read his mind.
"She betrayed me." Sherlock seethe at his elder brother. Mycroft rolled his eyes, irritated with his brothers childish ignorance.
"Sherlock she saved your life." The younger brother scoffed.
"I guess you're sending me to rehab again then." Mycroft kept a stern expression on his face.
"I'll make you a deal." His younger brother sneered but nodded.
"If you allow Molly to care for you, I won't send you to rehab." Sherlock pondered the deal. He loathed the idea of being treated like a child. Knowing Molly would fawn over him constantly. His last experience at rehab was torture.
"Deal." Mycroft nodded and made his way out the room, then turned to face his brother again.
"Sherlock, she saved your life. You wouldn't be here if weren't for her. Be kind to her." Sherlock didn't respond and Mycroft left the room with a sigh.
She woke up an hour later to find a pair of sea green eyes staring at her. A small smile graced her lips hoping for one in return. Sadly he only looked away. At least he didn't sneer this time, maybe he wasn't extremely pissed with her for calling Mycroft.
"I'm sorry." She said, barely audible. But she knew he heard her. His expression didn't change and he continued to look away.
"I... I didn't have a choice. You were so- so overdosed-"
"Molly stop talking." She nodded solemnly and stiffly stood up from her position on the chair. She stretched her stiff and aching limbs. Grabbing her bag she checked her phone. It was late afternoon the day after she found Sherlock overdosed. She remembered reading the clock before drifting off which said 4:00 am.
"I'm not angry with you." She turned around to face him. Surprised with open statement
"For calling Mycroft?" He nodded. She shyly shrugged and shuffled her feet.
"I didn't know what to do." She decided to look back in her purse to find her wallet, growing embarrassed under his gaze. Her mind was taken off him when she felt hunger clawing in her stomach.
"How long will you need to watch over me?" He asked. She walked over to the bed decided to sit on the edge.
"For a month. Mycroft asked me to stay with you. He said he'd would pay me... But... I turned down the money." Sherlock scrunched his nose in confusion. God he was so cute when he did that...
"Molly no! Not now!"
"But why?" Molly shrugged and looked at her hands.
"I just.. I didn't... I was just thinking.. That-"
"Molly please form full sentences its irritating when you don't." She took a breath and started again.
"I didn't think it was right." Sherlock sat slightly shocked. But composed himself quickly, continuing his questioning.
"Why not? I'm just a burden to you." Molly grasped his hand looked into his eyes.
"Sherlock. You're not a burden to me." He pulled his hand away from her grasp. Her soft skin sent tingles up his arm and it startled him. But he soon regretted it quickly missing the soft warmth. Molly blushed a light pink and looked down at her lap.
"Oh I'm, sorry.." His gaze softened a bit.
"No it's... It's okay I just.. My hand aches a little..." He scolded himself for the idiotic excuse. She looked up at him and smiled a little.
"Oh. Okay... Do want anything for it?" He shook his head no. Molly nodded and sat a little longer not knowing what to do with herself. She suddenly sat up and grabbed her purse and wallet.
"I need to grab something to eat. I also need to collect a few things from my flat... I'll... Be back okay?" Sherlock looked slightly confused.
"You don't have to stay with me." Molly smiled.
"Actually Mycroft asked me to watch over you during your hospital stay." Sherlock nodded and Molly turned to leave.
"Thank you Molly." She smiled at him and left the room.
Should I continue? Let me know.
-Skyler