Sherlock
I can feel myself tremor with the excitement of a new case. Three bloody long weeks cooped up in the flat without a case was dreadful. It's not that no one had any cases. Definitely not that. Loads of cases were offered to me from Lestrade and various clients, but I turned them all down without even taking a glance at them. I couldn't bring myself to take a case and have my ailing blogger exhausting himself trying to keep up with me.
Speaking of John, he has been doing better, but I still worry about him immensely. His wellbeing consumes my every thought. There is not a moment that passes that I don't thinking about him. I constantly watch him at the corner of my eye. I follow him, unbeknownst to him, when he leaves the flat. After he's gone to bed, I sneak into his room, sit on the floor, and watch him sleep. I've dozed off a couple times whilst there, but I always wake early enough so John doesn't see me there. I don't think he'd like it anyways. Of course we are officially together now but, nothing has changes except the occasional cuddling, stolen kisses, and lingering touches. We still sleep in separate beds, but I'd feel much better if John slept by my side.
I am not familiar with the concept of relationships. I know the scientific structure it stands on, but it's difficult for me to provide the physical demands that come with a relationship. I know I love John with my entire being, but I'm afraid that I may not be able to provide John with everything he expects in a relationship. I'm afraid that I'll disappoint him. I have been saving files to my Mind Palace from various romance novels and films on how people act around each other when in a committed relationship. I have been using said information with John and it seems to be working, but I still feel that it won't be enough for him. That it won't be enough for me. I want everything to be perfect for him, even though every day I feel like I am dying all over again. Every kiss, every touch always feels like it can be our last and one day it will be.
I glance at my John who is looking out the window with a small smile playing on his lips and his dapper sunglasses on. I've got to admit he looks good with them on. John senses me staring and looks at me as a full smile spreads across his face.
"What?" He asks, still smiling.
"You look happy."
"Of course I am. You've finally taken a case, we're out of the flat, I feel fantastic, and I have you. What is there to not be happy about?" He smiles at me goofily.
You're dying.
"I can't think of a thing." I smile back.
The rest of our journey falls in silence and we pull up to the entrance of Saint Bart's shortly thereafter.
I hold open the door leading into the morgue for John without thinking about it and give him a small kiss on the lips once inside.
I take off my sunglasses and John does the same. He squints and blinks against the bright fluorescent lights. I can see his eyes water and I place my hand on his shoulder as he pinches the bridge of his nose. With a sigh he puts them back on.
"All the bloody white in here makes the room seem brighter than it is." He says turning to me.
"It's due to the light reflecting off the surfaces." I say glancing around the room, taking in all the white.
"No shit, Sherlock." John jokes elbowing me softly in the side. I chuckle and flip my coat collar up.
"Oh, please, can we not do this this time." John says smirking.
"Do what?" I ask genuinely confused.
"You being all mysterious with your... cheekbones, and turning up your coat collar up so you look cool."
"I don't do that."
"Yeah, you do."
"Do not."
"Yes. You do." He says huskily tuning towards me, spreading his hand across my chest and looking up at me. "And it is one of the most sexiest thing you do." (AN: I swear I have no sodding idea where this came from.)
My eyes widen and my jaw visibly drops as I take in John's suddenly ravenous demeanour. His pupils are huge, shadowing almost the entire blue of John's eyes. I move my hands gently to John's wrist that's not on my chest, taking his pulse. It beats hard and fast.
"You turn me on so bad." John continues gruffly, leaning in to nibble around my jaw. I bit my lip to keep myself from moaning out loud, but a small one still manages to escape me.
John chuckles seductively. "You like that, don't you." He mumbles against my skin as he makes his way down my neck.
My heart slams against my chest as panic begins to drown me.
I don't know what to do. I don't know what to do! Is this what John really wants? Is this what I really want? Oh, of course it is, Sherlock! Don't be daft! Of course you want John! He's your everything.
But is this truly what John wants? What if it is? Would I be able to please him? What if I'm not able to and I just disappoint him? I haven't done this for a long time! I haven't had sex with another man since I was in my early twenties and that was purely for experimental purposes. I've never made love before. I don't know how...
"John." I whisper huskily around the sex filled haze that's clouded my mind. "John, love? Stop."
"Mmm." John mumbles against my neck causing me to involuntarily shudder, but he does not stop.
I inhale deeply ignoring the growing pressure in my trousers and try to get my mind to stop thinking naughty thoughts.
"Love?" I try again, pushing him back slightly. He takes a half step back and looks up at me with a flushed face and pleading eyes. "Listen to me. We've got work to do. If this." I say gesturing between us. "Is what you truly want, we will. But not here. Not in the morgue... Although it does have it's advantages..." I mumble the last bit to myself before turning my attention back to John's when he slaps me across the arm trying to stifle a laugh. "Sorry." I say sheepishly as I take John's face within my hands and become very serious. "I love you so much, John Watson. Is this... me... what you truly want?"
"Yes." He says simply and I rub my lips gently against his as a brilliant plan begins to formulate in my mind. I break my lips from John's and smile down at him.
"Okay?" I ask.
"Okay." John responds, smiling.
John removes his hand from my chest and in that instant, he switches like a light. He went from flushed and aroused to calm and collected in an instant. If I would have blinked, I would have missed the change in his demeanour, but I did see it and I shrug off the disconcerting feeling it gives me when John gives me a comforting smile that makes the corners of his eyes crinkle.
I put the odd feeling behind me as I walk down the hall, letting my coat billow behind me. I speed up slightly, leaving John behind and walk into the morgue looking for the light switch.
"Hi, Sherlock!" Molly greets happily as I switch off half the lights in the room. Her face drops in confusion.
"Why did you do that?" She asks.
I turn to Molly with a pained expression on my face.
"John's not well. I can't tell you everything now, but I... we... will eventually. Don't say anything to him." I say at lightning quick speed. Molly simply nods just as John walks in, taking off his glasses and glancing briefly at me with such warmth in his eyes.
"Hello, John." Molly smiles, glancing between John and I with a slight smile playing on her lips that I try not to smile at, because I know she has her suspicions and that she's right about them. She just doesn't know it yet, but she will soon.
"Hello, Molly. How are you?"
"Oh, fantastic. There has been so many cadavers this week!" She responds enthusiastically. "Oh! No! I- I didn't mean it like that! It's sad that they died and everything, but they give me work and-"
"Molly." I say cutting her off. "Please stop talking."
"Right. Sorry." She says, embarrassed.
"It's alright, Molly. I knew what you meant." John says, kindly. He's always so great with people. The kind buffer between me and the world.
"Alright, Molly. Show me the bodies." I say clapping my hands together enthusaistically.
She nod and departs, returning shortly with one of the bodies. Probably the first victim and lifts the sheet revealing a young woman beautiful even in death.
"This is the first one brought in. She's nineteen, lived in Cardiff, but went to a clinic here in London-"
"Tell us what we don't already know." I cut her off again. My patience is running thin.
"Right. Sorry."
"Stop apologising."
"Sor-Never mind." She says and looks down at the body. "Her eating disorder wasn't the cause of death as some suspected. Same goes for the two other girls. They were all on their way to recovery when they died and the self-inflicted cuts that all the victims have were not deep enough to cause death. The tox screen was also inconclusive for all of them."
"Definitely a seven." I mumble to myself as John covers a laugh with a cough. It reminds me of our first case together.
We can't giggle at a crime scene!
I smile to myself at the memory and pull on a pair of gloves. I start to examine the body with the magnify glass I keep in my coat pocket. At the corner of my eye, I see John sit heavily in one of Molly's chairs and I begin to deduce him.
Slight bags under his eyes. Keeps pinching the bridge of his nose. Exhaustion. His medicine causes drowsiness.
I look up to see Molly watching me watching John. Her brows furrow in worry and confusion as she cocks her head minutely to the side. I shake my head slightly at her and she sighs quietly going back to her clipboard as I begin my examination of the body.
An unknown time later.
"I've got it!" I shout stepping out of my mind palace. It was the psychiatrist that all the girls shared. They would go in for the weekly meeting with him and he would hypnotise them and inject a slow acting poison under their middle fingernail. It was really quite simple once you looked at all the evidence. The chemical was shown in the tox screen of all three girls in such a low amount it was overlooked. We just need Lestrade and his team to get a warrant and search his office, where they will surely find the evidence. "They all went to the same psychiatrist, he-" I say turning around only to realise that I'm alone. (AN: Forgive this crappy case. I'm horrible at writing cases.)
Where the hell is Molly and John?
I grab my mobile and call John, it rings five times before rolling to his voicemail. I call again and get his voicemail. My heart starts to pound loudly in my ears as I call Molly's mobile. She picks up after two rings.
"Sher-Sherlock."She stutters. It sounds like she's been crying.
"Molly! Where are you? Where's John? Is he alright?"
"Oh, Sherlock." She sobs. "He-He's not alright. We went to go get coffee. He said his head was hurting. But I-I didn't think anything of it. Th-Then his nose started to bleed all of a sudden and he just collapsed." She continues, sobbing more.
I listen to her words and feel my whole world start to turn. I feel sick and painfully lightheaded that I'm afraid I might pass out. My ears are buzzing making everything sound drowned out.
"I was about to come ge-get you when you c-called. They t-took him to the ICU on the third floor." She continues through her hiccups. "Pl-Please, Sherlock. He's asking for you. He wo-won't let them take him for evaluations without se-seeing you. P-Please." She begs crying even harder.
"I'm on my way." I say, trying to sound strong, but I fail as my words crack at the end.
"He's in room 313. Hurry."
I hang up the phone and begin to run as fast as I can. I burst into the stairwell and start taking the steps three at a time. My vision blurs as tears begin to form, but I push them down. I can't be weak right now. I need to be strong for John.
I reach the third floor landing out of breathe, my legs protesting as I push myself to run to John's room. I see Molly in the distance standing outside of his room crying so hard her shoulder's shake and small whimpers escape her lips. She hears my approach and with a sob runs to me. She throws herself into my arms with another heart wrenching sob and I gladly return her embrace. She has made me feel grounded instead of like a balloon threatening to float away.
Our embrace is brief and she pulls away, leading me to John's room.
"He-He didn't know who I was when he woke. He called me Harry, Sherlock." She says, looking at me whilst we fast walk with tears in her eyes. "Isn't that his sister?"
I pinch my lips into a pained straight line and swallow hard. I tell myself over and over again not to cry, not in front of John as I nod sadly to Molly. Silent tears fall down her face in buckets as we reach the window that peers into John's room. I stop in front of it and my heart sinks.
John's lying on the bed paler then I've ever seen him. He's curled up in the fetal position clutching his head with his eyes shut tight. His body is rigid and shaking as a small trickle of blood escapes his nose. A nurse walks in, her back turned towards me and says something to him. He cringes and I can see his lips move as he says, 'Stop talking so loud.' She nods and probably starts talking quieter. I can see John mouth the word 'No' and then after a pause I see his lips say, 'I said I won't go without seeing Sherlock.' At that, I walk into his room.
"John." I whisper.
"Dad?" John whispers as he shrinks deeper into his bed. A tear falls down my face as my throat closes up on me as I take in the fearful tone in his voice. I swallow hard and wipe my tear away as I try not to weep in front of frail man that I love so much.
"No, my love." I say pained. "It's Sherlock."
"Sherlock." He croaks weakly in relief as the nurse leaves, giving me a pitiful smile. "Please shut the curtains. I want to see you and the light... It's killing my head."
I go over to the curtains and shut them just as the lights flick off in the room. I turn to see a red faced Molly with her hand leaving the switch. I nod my thanks and she departs, closing the door, leaving John and I alone in the dim room.
I walk over to John who is still clutching his head and rocking back and forth slightly with his eyes shut tight. I kneel in front of him so we are at eye level and place my hand on top of his very warm one. He removes one of his shaky hands from his head to grasp my hand and opens his eyes.
His eyes are bloodshot and tears are falling down his face. His skin has taken on a grey tinge and his body shakes violently as beads of sweat roll off his forehead.
"It's happening too quickly, Sherlock. It's growing. I know it is." He chokes around his sobs. I have never seen him so utterly devastated before. So completely broken. My strong army doctor now so weak.
"You don't know that for sure, love. You don't know." I respond quietly, trying to remain strong for him.
"I'm a bloody doctor. I know the signs!"
"I know you are." I say, sadly feeling my heart being physically ripped a part in my chest.
I know he's right. All the symptoms he's currently portraying are the final symptoms for someone who only has mere weeks to live, if that. If it continues to grow at this rate, we may only have days left with each other.
"Listen to me, my love." I say with false confidence as I feel my eyes begin to sting. "We all know the signs, but that doesn't mean anything. Okay? It doesn't mean a thing. We won't know for sure until we get that beautiful head of yours scanned." I say bending over to kiss the top of his head. John whimpers out a sob and clings to me painfully.
"I'm scared, Sherlock. I'm so, so scared." He sobs causing his shoulders to shake.
"Don't be." I say, placing one of my hands on his cheek, memorising what it feels like to touch his smooth skin because I know one day, maybe too soon, I will never be able to feel his soft skin again. "I will always be here for you. I will never leave your side. Not ever. I should have been with you when this happened. I'm so sorry. I should have been there for you." I finish in a whisper.
"It's not your fault. You can't be with my 24/7. You have to live some life of your own." He responds trying to comfort me. I feel like a complete helpless idiot. John is the one whose dying and in pain and he is trying to comfort me. What kind of pathetic fool am I?
But like a truth serum has been injected into my veins, I can't stop the words from escaping my lips.
"What life is it if I don't have you by my side?" I reply almost inaudibly as a single tear betrays me and falls down my faces.
"You'll live a beautiful life solving crimes and being brilliant." He says wiping the tear from my face. I grab his hand as he pulls away and kiss the top of it softly.
"I don't want to live without you." I mumble around his hand that's still pressed softly against my lips.
"You have to. You're the brilliant Sherlock Holmes. London will fall without you."
I chuckle sadly as more tears pour down my face. The first tear acted as the release for my body to betray my every emotion and I begin to sob hard. John begins to cry more, because for the first time he's actually seeing how much his diagnosis is affecting me. The brilliant machine Sherlock Holmes now broken beyond repair.
I feel him pull my arm and I glance up to see him scooting over to make room for me to lie down with him. I join him on the bed and we face towards each other as we silently cry together. Nothing we can do can stop our tears from falling so we don't even try. We simply press our foreheads against one another's with our fingers intertwined between us and let our tears of sorrow and unconditional love mingle together.
A couple minutes pass and John begins to drift off to sleep. His eyes have turned heavy and his breathing becomes deep. His eyes slip shut and I watch him intently counting his every breathe as I begin to hum softly to him.
I know John's giving up. He's giving up on this life. On himself. He's accepted his fate and has thrown in the towel. But I refuse to give up. I refuse to give into John's fate. I won't stop fighting and if that means I have to fight for the both of us, then so be it. Their is always a chance he can survive. Always. I will hold onto that hope until the day he stops breathing. I will never give up on him. Not ever. Because he's the man I love. The only person I have ever and will ever love and you never give up on the people you love. You keep fighting for them. Believing in them. Because that's what people do. They keep believing in each other, because sometimes that's all they have left.
As I think about all of this, I begin to quietly sing the song I've been humming to my sleeping John.
'Lights will guide you home
And ignite your bones
And I will try to fix you'
"I'll try to fix you, John. I promise." I whisper kissing his nose lightly just as John begins to shake violently.
"John?" I ask concerned.
I don't understand what's happening. My first thought is a nightmare, which John has often. But when John's eyes slid open and I see his eyes roll back into his head I know that it's not a nightmare. He's having a seizure.
I sit up quickly shouting John's name as I place my hands firmly on both sides of his shoulder pushing down to keep him from hurting himself.
John's body jerks and convulses so hard that his head begins to snap harshly from the immense amount force his body is exhibiting.
I can feel myself sob harder than I ever have at the sight before me. Gross, inhuman noises escape my lips as my tears just keep on falling and falling down my face and onto John's convulsing body. I'm hardly aware that I'm screaming his name until I feel strong hands try to pull me off of him. I fight them not wanting to be torn away from my love. He needs me right now. John needs me and no one can stop me from helping him.
Another set of hands accompany the first sets gripping around my waist and shoulders and I feel myself being pulled backwards. I grasp onto John's bed screaming at who ever it is to let me go. They successfully pull me off and I fall to the ground hard. I try to get back up to go to John when I hear his voice and I just stop like somebody turned me off and I just sit on the floor not hearing anything anymore as I watch the nurses and doctor restrain my still convulsing John.
In the distance, I hear someone calling my name and the presence of concerned individuals around me, but I don't care. I can't feel, I can't think, I can't hear anything. All I can do is watch John being restrained to his bed as the doctor's force a tube down his throat and begin to wheel him out of the room.
I try to get up and follow, but somebody holds me back and I watch completely numb as my blogger is taken away from me. His fate now lies in the balance, teetering on the edge of life and death and all I want is for John not to leave me.
"Sherlock, John's not going to leave you." I hear the voice say again. I didn't realise I've been saying that out loud.
I break out of my trance red faced and teary eyed as I look to see whose around me and my heart sinks.
Mycroft is kneeling next to me with his hand on my shoulder and a fresh bruise forming on his cheek. Molly and Mrs Hudson stand in the distance sobbing into each other's arms. I look drearily over to my other side and see a bloody nosed Lestrade looking at me in concern.
"I'm so sorry, brother dear." Mycroft says softly.
I simply nod unable to speak as the minutes tick on in silence.
"Can someone please tell us what's going on?" Mrs Hudson says through her tears first to break the silence as Leatrade and Molly both nod wanting to know as well.
My shoulders slump as I place my face into my hands and let me tears continue to fall in buckets down my face.
"Would you like me to tell them, brother?" Mycroft asks tenderly.
I shake my head in my hands before lifting my head to look at them all properly.
I peer into all of their eyes, lingering for just a moment longer as they expectantly wait for me to explain. I'm sure they already have an idea about what's going on after the scene that they just witnessed, but they still deserve to know the extent of it all.
"John's dying." I whisper and I hear the room become silent so I take that as my queue to continue. "He has a tumour in his cerebrum. It's inoperable. Incurable." I continue voided of all emotions as I continue to cry silently. "He was given a year to live three weeks ago and n-now" I say gesturing to John's vacant bed. "He may not even have tomorrow."
"I'm so sorry mate." Lestrade says whilst clasping a consoling hand on my shoulder.
"We finally told each other how we feel." I continue my emotions seeping into my words. "We finally told each other how much we love one another and he's being taken away from me."
"You mean you and John?" Lestrade asks seemingly speaking for the whole group. I can see Mycroft smile sadly at the corner of my eye.
"Yeah." I choke out smiling sadly. "It was a week after his diagnosis. I kissed him. He didn't kiss me back at first and I thought I made a mistake. But then he grabbed my head and brought me back to him." I continue more speaking to myself now. "I've never been so happy. I love him." I say looking up to see Lestrade with unshed tears in his eyes and Mrs Hudson and Molly almost encompasitated in sorrow. Mycroft is the only one in the room to remain seemingly unmoved, but looking deeper I can see the pain in his eyes.
"You deserve each other." Molly says quietly, finally strong enough to speak. "I've never seen two people so perfect for each other."
"She's right, dear." Mrs Hudson says. "I knew you two always had a thing for each other. It took you guys long enough to figure it out."
"Maybe too long." I respond.
"You don't know that for sure, mate. This may just be a coincidence." Lestrade adds.
"The universe is rarely so lazy." I say bitterly.
"It isn't." Mycroft agrees. "But it doesn't have to be the end." I turn to him confused as he continues. "Their is an experimental drug used in America for cases like John's. It's only been found to be effective in 20% of its patients, but it may work for John."
My heart had begun to pound in my ears as a new ray of hope shines through the black clouds that have surrounded me since that fateful day.
"I have been working on getting it out here for John. The final paperwork went through last week and the shipment arrived yesterday. In the 20% of patients that it was effective on, they showed a reduction in the growth of their tumour." He begins tentevily then pauses, picking his words.
"Go on." I usher hopefully. He smiles at me sadly and continues slowly.
"2% of the people who reacted well to the medication, their tumours completely stopped growing."
"John has a chance?" I ask wide eyes and borderline giddy with hope.
"Yes, brother dear. However, please don't become too hopeful. I've told you the odds and they are against him, but he does have a chance. The drug is in it's infancy we do not know the prolonged effects of it."
I nod my understanding enthusiastically. "Did you make sure that the supply is the actual drug and not placebos?" I ask seriously.
"Of course." Mycroft smiles. "I had my own personal chemist examine the batch himself prior to the shipment. He assures me that the drug is the actual drug. I have already spoke to John's doctor and he has agreed. All we need is for John to agree."
I smile to myself and feel my heart become physically lighter in my chest. John has a chance. A proper chance even if the odds are against him, but at least he still has odds. It's better then no odds at all.
"Thank you, Mycroft." I say, sincerely as I approach him and give him a rare hug. Mycroft freezes, clearly surprised by my sentiment, but relaxes slightly and hugs back awkwardly and we let go.
"This is great news." Lestrade says happily.
"It really is." Molly says still crying a bit.
"Do you think John will agree?" Mrs Hudson asks.
We all ponder her question for a moment, none of us really sure if John will agree, but then why wouldn't he?
Just as I'm about to voice my opinion on the matter, the door to John's room opens. I feel my world freeze and my feet become rooted to the ground. The room becomes eerily quiet once more as an overworked, exhausted doctor steps into the room clipboard in hand.
"Are you the family of John Watson?" She asks kindly.
"We're the closest family he's got." Lestrade say first and I silently thank him for speaking because I honestly don't think I can without losing it.
John may have a chance with the medicine, but not if he's... if he's... already gone...
"I can only speak to family. Is their anyone you can call?" She asks looking at Lestrade.
I swallow through the hard knot in my throat and step foreword.
"He's my boyfriend." I say quietly. Her eyes widen a bit in surprise, but she quickly recovers herself and gives me a kind look.
"It's a pleasure to meet you. I'm Dr. Kahn." She says extending her hand. I take it robotically, shaking it.
"Sherlock Holmes." I say almost inaudibly, consumed with worry.
The doctor drops my hand and tucks a long drown curl behind her ear, meeting my eyes with a sad, steady gaze as she begins to speak softly.
"I'm sorry-"
To be continued...