we can be heroes

by concerned-burritos

Sherlock, two years after his fall, receives a phone call regarding the whereabouts of John Watson: he's missing. They say they've checked every place, but there's on in particular Sherlock is certain they've forgotten. - This is a POV story and each chapter is a different point of view. The majority of the story is their phone call. Questions? Let me know.

3. Chapter 3

It did not take long to get to his destination:

St. Bart's Hospital.

On the way to the hospital, Sherlock had received three messages from, the latest one he had just opened as he stepped out of the taxi. Sherlock's eyes widened as he read it over, his heart skipping a beat as his eyes read the text over and over again. He nearly lost his balance as he closed the taxi door behind him, stumbling to keep himself standing as he walked forward. He loved him. John loved Sherlock. This was amazing, this was absolutely mind-boggling. Love was something Sherlock wasn't able to deduce, nor would he ever be able to deduce such strong emotions. It took him two years to finally realize he truly loved John more than anything in the entire universe, and the tragic part was he realized it the moment he lunged off the roof of St. Bart's. In that moment, he knew what he had thrown away, and what he was losing.

Sherlock was feeling a wide range of emotions at the moment. Anger, sorrow, worry, anxiety, fear. Just hearing someone say the word hospital throws Sherlock into a spiral of anxiety attacks. But to be back in front of the same hospital where it all happened, was something Sherlock would never be ready for.

Pressing John's name, the phone quickly dialed his number as he brought the phone up to his ear, his body shaking. This had to be done, and he could never forgive himself if anything bad happened to John while he was still alive. Mycroft would not be able to stop him, nor Molly. Or anyone else for that matter. John, his John, was more important to him than anyone cared to imagine. He'd rather die than live without him.

His eyes slowly traveled up to the rooftop, nearly causing him to have a heart attack. His John was standing exactly where he thought he would be, on the roof of the hospital. The very same spot where he once stood. Sherlock felt tears start to sting his eyes, for the second time that day, as the images from his daily nightmare came flashing back as if it were happening right in front of him. But, what made this worse, was the fact he'd be the one watching now whilst his best friend, the love of his unusual life, jumped off the roof in order to end the misery of what he called "life without Sherlock".

"Answer... Damn it.. Please.." He whispered to himself as the phone continued to ring.