( A/N thanks for the helpful reviews! I will take them all into account. I am also having a really stressful time so the updates will be less frequent.) I needed John. It was simple. Without him I was like a fish in the sky. I was all wrong and upside down. I never knew love could be quite so strong and all-consuming. My thoughts turned to his face, then memories. All those unsavoury memories. I clenched my fists as I lay on the bed, fighting the urge. I squeezed my eyes shut tight. After a while I relaxed my self. There was no point. I couldn't resist it, yet I loathed that it had so much power over me. I reached into the box and succumbed to the powerful and releasing feeling that it brought. I shut my eyes. I knew this sleep wouldn't be natural, like my last, but it would be heavy, and a relief from the pain. John I curled up in a ball, shivering, covered in sweat and vomit. I had been so scared that I had thrown up. I awoke several times that night. I could barely sleep. I dragged myself out of bed, reminding myself that Sherlock might need me any minute. I took off the stinking, drenched sheets and put them in the washing machine. I checked my phone. No texts. I would not admit to myself that I was waiting for one from him. I would not admit the jolt in my heart I felt when Mycroft told me the news yesterday. I would admit to nothing. I had to keep repeating my silent mantra. I am not gay. It simply wasn't possible. I had had girlfriends. But maybe it was just Sherlock. I always knew he was the exception. I slid down the wall, my head spinning with confusion. Was I gay? What happened to Sherlock? And the most important- was he ok? From what Mycroft told me, I guessed not. I realised how much he hid from me, how much I didn't know about this beautiful man. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Sherlock I groaned as I was rudely shaken awake by my angry brother. " I thought better of your willpower and my teachings, brother of mine. What did I say? I told you to lock up your feelings, and you didn't listen and now look at yourself. A disgrace. And look what you did to John." he showed me a picture of John, pale and curled up in a pile of his own vomit. His usually tidy hair was tousled and he had a waxy pallor to his skin. I could see tear tracks on his face and his brow was furrowed. What had I done? I began to shake and break down. What damage had I caused? I tried to run out the room, but Mycroft's restraining hand caught me. " You're going no-where. You are mentally and physically unstable. I will personally make sure you do not leave this room except to go to the bathroom. You will exert more self control over yourself and not use those boxes. I will leave for now, but I will check on you." and with that, he left. Always one for dramatic exits, my brother. I lay on my bed, resisting the power for a measly 45 minutes before reaching across and injecting it all in . One big hit should be enough to drown the pain. The room span and I thought I saw John. " John, my love." I murmured. I tried to stagger to my feet but stumbled and tripped. I whacked my head on the bed and felt blood trickle down my face. The world faded away. John I shut my eyes, opening them again when I felt bile rise in my throat. I tired to sit up, but my muscles had seized up. I couldn't move. Not enough sleep. I vomited in my mouth, choking and trying to scream. I could get less and less air in with every breath. I slowly blacked out, resigned to the fact that I was going to die. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ I awoke with a hospital gown on, a nurse by my side and an oxygen mask on. I had not died! I would live to see my Sherlock's beautiful face once more. A man who I couldn't quite place the name of came in, looking solemn. " John, there is no easy way to put this. Sherlock's in hospital because of an overdose." the world span once more.