PLEASE ENJOY THE FIRST CHAPTER OF THIS JOHNLOCK STORY
Sherlock and John were in another fight. They were used to then but this one was the biggest so far and it started how they always do, with sherlock saying something with our care that hurt someone's feelings. So now they're sleeping in separate bedrooms for the first time in months.
Sherlock was having a hard time getting to sleep, he missed the familiar feeling of warmth surrounding him, that would run his fingers through his hair and keep all thoughts of drugs from his mind. It was his own fault and he knew it. It was just who sherlock was, giving blunt answers and not caring for the consequences. But if he knew this would be the consequence he would of never opened his worthless mouth.
He could just barely resist the urge to grab a knife and slice into his arm with it just like he did when he was a young boy, just like he could barely resist calling his old supplier and sinking a needle into his veins.he knew that if he did any of those he would accidently kill himself and he didn't really want to to die just numb the pain.
So sherlock sank into sleep, fresh tears streaming down the usually composed consulting detective's face
He lifted his head and immediately noticed he was tied to a chair, it would take him multiple minutes to be able to loosen the bonds holding his limbs to it. He started to wiggle his hands while he looked around the room and stopped dead in his tracks
"Moriarty" sherlock whispered looking at the grinning man
"why, why sherlock it's good of you to join us"
"us?" sherlock asked sneering " who have you got to join you and play you're stupid games"
"why sherlock I thought you would remember me" John said stepping out of the shadows to stand beside Jim
"after all I am the only person who you have ever truly loved"
Sherlocks breath hitched and it was suddenly barely painful to breathe
"hmm I want this quick… so I think I'll just slice you up a bit till you die from bloodless. And what a sight it will be seeing the light drain from the eyes of the world's best detective"
Sherlock starts to struggle the situation finally starting to sink in only for the restraints to tighten and cut off circulation to his limbs
Moriarty reaches into his pocket and pulls out two switchblades and passes one to John. They both slowly approach him a sinister smile that sherlock has ever seen a lights John's features as John makes the first incision two the top of his shoulder
The both slash him excessively and sherlock screams for John to help him over and over again, sherlock let's out another terrified scream as John slashes his neck open. In his finally second sherlock let's out a silent scream and watches how John leans in "you're a worthless freak and you know it"
Sherlock wakes his mouth open as if he's screaming, as tears and sobs escape the terrified man's mouth. Sherlock immediately reaches for John only to realize that he's not in bed with him. Which makes him panic more until he remembers their fight and he quickly stands and practically runs to John's room with tears and sobs escaping from his eyes and mouth
Sherlock takes a second to make his crying less noticeable. He then knocks and whispers in a strained voice "john" after receiving no answer he opens the door only to see that John is awake and glaring at him menacingly
"joh-" sherlock sobs only to be let out by John pointing at the door and saying "get out sherlock" in a harsh voice
"I'm sorry John, but I ne-" sherlock trys to get out before John replies "I really don't care sherlock,just, just get out of my room. We'll talk tomorrow"
"plea-"
"get out sherlock NOW" John yells
With shaky hands that are even more scared than before sherlock slowly closes the door, and the last thing he sees John do is glare one last time before plopping ungracefully on his side facing away from the door
All he can see in the hallway is darkness, and for the first time since he and John got together he feels scared, and well worthless, just like Moriarty said he was. But it doesn't matter more Moriarty is dead and John loves him… at least he thinks he does.
Sherlock is still sobbing but is trying to repress it so John doesn't here him. as he makes his way towards the kitchen he stumbles but doesn't make to much noise, well not more noise than usual.
He grabs the handle for the utensil drawer that John keeps clean and pulls, he immediately reaches for the sharpest knife that he can find and pulls it out.
He slowly sits down so his legs are crossed and efficiently rolls his sleeve up. He can still see the faded white lines from when he first cut and he can't help but want to see the red liquid ooze from his arm and slide to the ground
He places the blade at his arm and takes a second to think rationally. What would John think, would he be mad, disappointed, would he even care. Of course he would care he loves you a voice whispers in his head. If he loved you then he would of listened when you went to him for help he reasons with himself
John wouldn't care he decides as he makes the first incision to his arm, he watches with glee as he sees the blood form on top of the cut in small circles. He quickly follows the small cut with many others that differ with length and depth, but never cutting to deep to be fatal.
Very quickly he finds himself becoming dizzy from the blood loss and is fighting the black spots that have appeared in his vision. It's not fatal sherlock realizes, I'll wake up tomorrow. He gives in and passes out in the middle of the kitchen floor with crimson blood still flowing from his wrists that are just starting to clot