There's A Class For This

Chapter Nine

A/N: Thank you to Gwilwillith for most of my reviews so far! You're too kind!
Seriously people, review! Let me know how you like it! Also, just like last chapter,
italics are flashbacks. XOXO

It was late. Ryleigh checked her phone once more as she climbed out of her cab in front of 221B. Nothing from Sherlock in hours. Usually, when she got off work, she had at least one text message from him, but today was different. As Ryleigh opened the door, she got a sinking feeling in her stomach. It was too quiet. Sherlock wasn't playing his violin. There was no sound coming from behind their door.

Ryleigh took the stairs slowly, sticking her keys in her purse as she walked, listening for any signs of life coming from the flat.

There was a thump on the floor. And then nothing. Ryleigh took the stairs two at a time, shaking as she busted down the door.

Ryleigh didn't see anything out of the ordinary when she opened the door. "Sherlock!" She yelled. And then she saw him. Sherlock was lying in a heap between the couch and the coffee table. Before she ran to him, she noticed a small baggy of heroin, a lighter, and a burnt spoon all lined up neatly on the coffee table. "Sherlock…" She whispered as she ran to him, discarding her purse as she did.

Ryleigh's aunt, Mrs. Hudson, must have heard the commotion, because she appeared in the door of the flat as Ryleigh flipped Sherlock over. They both paled at the sight of the needle in his arm. "Oh, God. What do I need to do?" She asked Ryleigh.

"Call an ambulance. Now!" Ryleigh yelled at her aunt as she gripped Sherlock on the shoulders and shook him a bit. "Don't do this to me, damn it." She whispered, brushing his curls out of his face. She shook him once more and he took a deep breath, like he had been underwater for too long. His eyes remained closed, but at least he was breathing. Ryleigh fumbled with her mobile, while trying to keep his head in her lap. "M-mycroft? I don't know what to do." She sobbed into the phone. "He's half-dead with a needle in his arm." She listened for a moment. "Heroin." Mycroft didn't respond. "Hello? Yes, my aunt is calling an ambulance." Mycroft spoke again. "No, no signs that I noticed. I didn't miss anything! He's been FINE! Yes, sorry. I'll meet you at the hospital. I'm sorry. I hear sirens. I have to go." She hung up her phone as Mrs. Hudson directed the EMT's into the flat.

It seemed to take hours before they were loading him up on the gurney and taking him outside.

"Do you want me to go with you?" Mrs. Hudson asked, wrapping her arms around her niece.

"No… Stay here. I'll keep you updated." Ryleigh kissed her aunt on the cheek. "I love you."

"I love you, dear." Mrs. Hudson put her hand over her mouth as Ryleigh picked her purse up and headed out to hail a taxi.


Ryleigh sat next to Sherlock with her head resting on his bed, listening to the steady beat of the heart monitor. Her hair was tossed up in a messy bun and she was wearing 3-day-old pajamas and no make-up. Suddenly, she felt a hand brush the back of her head and she jerked up, shocked by the movement.

"Sherlock…" She breathed out, staring at her boyfriend and his barely opened eyes.

"Where am I?" He managed out. "What day is it?"

"You're at the hospital. It's Thursday."

"No. I fell asleep and it was Monday. It can't be Thursday." Sherlock opened his eyes a bit more and winced at the light. "You've been crying?"

"Oh, you fucking idiot. You didn't fall asleep. You overdosed while I was at work. Thank fucking God I got home when I did. You were inches from death. You flatlined twice in the ambulance." Ryleigh stood up and clenched her fists. She was trying so hard not to yell at him. "You were supposed to call me if you were getting bad, not just go out and buy fucking heroin. I was supposed to be able to trust you to be by yourself." Ryleigh sighed and turned away from Sherlock, crossing her arms. "Mycroft thinks I missed the signs, but I didn't. I know I didn't."

"Mycroft's here?" Sherlock snarled.

"Really? That's what you got out of that? Yes, he's here. I fucking called him. And your mum is, as well. These were great bloody circumstances to meet my boyfriend's mother, by the way."

"Why are they here?" Sherlock groaned, trying to not pull out his IV as he moved.

"Because they're worried about you!" Ryleigh shot back.

"Oh, you're starting to sound Scottish. You're angry at me." Sherlock deduced. "What do they have me on?" He asked, trying to look at the IV bags.

"Suboxone. And of course I'm angry! Why wouldn't I be angry? YOU. ALMOST. DIED. I almost lost you." Ryleigh squeezed her eyes shut and a few tears slipped down her cheeks. "I can't lose you." She whispered. Sherlock stuck his hand out to her and she took it slowly. He pulled her close and she climbed up next to him in his bed. "I can't lose you, Sherlock."

Sherlock brushed stray hairs out of Ryleigh's face. "Don't cry, my love." He wiped away a few stray tears. "Everything will be alright."

Sherlock's eyes widened as a figure came into view in the doorframe of his room. "Oh, Sherlock!" His mother dropped her water bottle and ran to his bedside.

"I'll leave you to him, Mrs. Holmes. I'm hungry, anyways." Ryleigh sat up, squeezed Sherlock's hand once, and walked out of the room.

"I'll accompany you to the cafeteria." Mycroft offered, walking beside Ryleigh. "Now, are you sure you didn't-"

"If you ask me that one more time, Mycroft Holmes, I swear to God I'll punch you." Ryleigh rolled her eyes. "I didn't miss anything. I like to think I've gotten rather good at realizing what's going on before he does."

"Would you like a coffee?" Mycroft asked as they neared the cafeteria.

Ryleigh scoffed. "I'd like a goddamn cigarette."

"Well, then, let's take a detour." Mycroft pointed down a hallway and they turned. The pair walked in silence until they reached the outside of the building. "Now, you know," He said, handing Ryleigh a cigarette and lighter. "Every night for the next three months will be a danger night for him." Mycroft lit his own cigarette waiting on Ryleigh to respond.

"Mycroft, I know what it's like to have a drug withdrawal. And don't act like you don't know that. I know that the next few months will be tough."

"Before he goes home, I'd like to head to Baker Street and make a few changes. Take the doors off the hinges, install an alarm at the front door… Get rid of anything that he could use to try and kill himself… Things like that."

"I'll help you." Ryleigh said, bringing her cigarette to her mouth. She took a long, slow drag and let it out even slower. "I'm in love with him, Mycroft."

"Love is-" Mycroft began, sucking on his own cigarette.

"I know. A serious disadvantage. But I don't care anymore." Ryleigh took a hit of her cigarette and flicked her ashes. "I love him and I can't lose him. I will do whatever I need to do to keep him alive."

"Well, Miss Morrison, have you given anymore thought to my offer?" Mycroft smiled slyly.


"Oh, will you hurry up and just come to bed?" Sherlock called out. "I've been sleeping without you for far too long."

"Well, that's not my fault!" Ryleigh half-yelled, walking into their bedroom.

"Oh, enough with that bloody accent. When are you going to be done being angry at me?" Sherlock asked as she crawled in bed.

"Oh, I don't know. You tried to kill yourself! How long does that warrant being angry, Sherlock?" Ryleigh rolled over, facing away from Sherlock.

Sherlock pressed against her back and planted a kiss on her shoulder, his erection poking her in the back. "I know how to make you stop being angry."

"Get off of me." Ryleigh turned and pushed him away. "Don't even attempt to have sex with me right now."

Sherlock flopped onto his back and groaned. "Then, what am I supposed to do with this?" He gestured to his hard-on.

"Go take care of it yourself. Sex as a reward happens when you do good things."

Sherlock sat up, frustrated. "Well, I'm not dead? Isn't that a good fucking thing?"

"No, you don't get to use 'hey, I'm not dead' as reasoning for anything. Go take care of your problem yourself or go the fuck to sleep."

Sherlock threw the sheets back angrily and stomped off to the bathroom. He tried to slam the door behind him but it wasn't there. "Fucking really?! The bathroom door, too?"

"Every door but the front door, which is alarmed, if you didn't notice!" Ryleigh groaned and rolled onto her back.

"So, what? You're just going to lie there and listen to me finish myself off in the fucking shower?" Sherlock ran his hands through his hair.

Ryleigh leaned over and pulled a vibrator out of the drawer of her nightstand. "We can finish together." Ryleigh winked. "But no sex. Not while I'm still angry." Sherlock eyed the vibrator jealously. "You're bigger, but it gets the job done."

Sherlock turned away from the bed and turned the water on in the shower. "Fuck, this is going to take forever."

"Maybe listening to me will help you go faster." Ryleigh said teasingly.

"You're getting some kind of sick satisfaction out of this."

"No, this is my being nice. I want to beat the shit out of you now that you aren't hooked up to a million machines. This is a safer alternative for the both of us."

"I know you're angry at me, but your voice is sexier with that accent."

"When did your mum call you to invite us for Christmas and why did you tell her no?"

Sherlock groaned, just wanting to get in the shower. "Oh, a few weeks ago. And because I don't want to go."

"Too bad. Now, we're going. And you're going to like it."

Sherlock groaned again. "Ryleigh…"

"Hurry up. I'm ready to go to bed."


"Hello. Mycroft?" Ryleigh sighed into the phone. "I'm at a loss. I was doing the wash and went to put Sherlock's socks up and found a bag heroin."

"He lets you put his socks away?" Mycroft asked.

"Not really the response I was looking for, Mike."

Mycroft sighed. "Is he home?"

"No."

"Flush it. I'll check the GPS on his phone and see where he's at. And don't let him out of your sight once he gets home."

Ryleigh began walking to the bathroom with her phone tucked between her head and her shoulder. "No need to check the GPS. I can hear him coming up the stairs."

"Don't let him know you have it."

Ryleigh quickly hung her phone up and shoved the baggy down the front of her jeans as Sherlock opened the door. "Hello, darling."

Sherlock stopped dead in his tracks as he was pulling off his gloves. 'You're angry with me."

"I am not. Why would you think that?" Ryleigh tried her best to smile.

"Your accent. That usually means you're angry at me or you're about to lecture me." Sherlock finished taking his gloves off and removed his scarf.

"No, not angry. It's just been coming out more now that I'm not trying to hide it." Ryleigh smiled once more. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I really have to use the loo." She turned to walk away, but Sherlock grabbed her arm and pulled her close. He pressed his lips firmly to hers and tugged at the waistband of her jeans. "Sherlock…" Ryleigh warned, but Sherlock stuck his hand down the front of her jeans and pulled out his baggy of heroin.

Sherlock's eyes flashed with anger, but it was gone in a second. "It's really no use lying to me, love." He said, rolling the small bag in his hand.

"I was putting your socks away when I found it. I was going to flush it." Ryleigh swallowed thickly. "Is tonight-"

"Yes." Sherlock replied all too quickly, handing her the plastic bag and pulling an identical one out of his jacket. "I haven't been using. I promise. Flush them. Please."

Ryleigh was in and out of the bathroom in just a few seconds. She found Sherlock sitting on the couch with his head in his hands. "I don't know why I keep buying them. Maybe… If I know they're there, I won't have the craving."

Ryleigh sat next to Sherlock and took his face in her hands, turning it so he'd look at her. "You will always have the craving. I know you will. You know you will. Don't think you won't."

"I'm sorry." Sherlock leaned his head against Ryleigh's shoulder and she ran her hand through his hair.

"Never apologize for who you are." Ryleigh whispered, kissing his forehead.

"I'm a junkie, Ry. That's all I'll ever be." Sherlock leaned back as Ryleigh moved and straddled his lap.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and tangled her fingers in his curls. "I am, too. But it's up to you what word gets placed in front of that." Sherlock looked at her with furrowed brows. "Former or current. Personally, former junkie sounds a lot better."

"How do you always know what to say?" Sherlock placed his hands on Ryleigh's hipbones.

"Because I've been where you're at more than once." Ryleigh kissed Sherlock lightly. "Let's go to bed."

"But I'm not tired." Sherlock looked confused.

"Neither am I." Ryleigh winked.


Ryleigh shook all of the thoughts of the bad things in the past year out of her head as she reached 221B. She opened the front door and entered cautiously. She couldn't hear anything coming from the flat. Taking the stairs three at a time, she burst open the door to the flat, only to stun Sherlock as he looked up from his place on the floor.

"Oh, hello." He said, nonchalantly.

"Oh, God. I thought something was wrong. I couldn't hear anything." Ryleigh dropped her bag on the floor and walked towards Sherlock, leaning down for a kiss.

"Hold on." He held up his hand. "I seem to have lost your present. Wait. Stay right there." Sherlock ran out of the room, leaving a stunned Ryleigh in the middle of the living room. He walked back in a few moments later with his hands behind his back. "I love you."

"What did you do?" Ryleigh asked.

Sherlock brought his hands from behind his back and Ryleigh's eyes brightened when she saw a small Yorkie puppy in his hands. "I've named him Toby. He likes to get lost and go sleep in my shoes." Sherlock smiled expectantly. "Is this okay? I've bought puppy toys, food, training pads, treats, a kennel… I've been thinking about this since you said you wanted a dog."

"Oh, Sherlock. It's perfect." Ryleigh took the tiny puppy from him and stood on her tiptoes to kiss him. "You're the best."

"Well, you do know what today is, don't you?" Sherlock took the small, sleeping dog from Ryleigh and put it in his kennel, locking the door.

"What?" Ryleigh began sorting through dates in her brain.

Sherlock leaned down and grasped the back of her thighs, lifting her up and wrapping her legs around her waist. "We've been together two years today."

"Oh, my God, we have." Ryleigh kissed Sherlock, smiling. "Happy anniversary, my love."

"Happy anniversary. Are you happy?" Sherlock looked like a kid at Christmas.

"Oh, I'm so happy."

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