So this will be the last chapter. I feel that this story is just about done. Besides 10 is an even and good number. The only way for this story to continue is if you want it. But I feel that this story has shown it's end. It will reach the light. Thank you for reading, the next chapter ( if you wish) will be a authors note. My personal thanks, now for the ( if you want ) last chapter of Pain.
Angst like whoa
Sherlock was falling. He could hear the wind rush around him. He could feel the pain poor into his chest. All he wanted was peace, to hear his own neck crack. He wanted it so badly. He wanted everything to stop!
This time he wasn't leaving Moriarty behind, he was leaving his father. He hated how much he resembled his father. He wouldn't marry or have kids because of it. He wouldn't turn into his monster of a father.
No one knew of Sherlock's depression. No one knew of how much he wanted to take that jump once more, and this time he wouldn't fake it. It had started with the nightmare after hearing that Moriarty wanted his memories ; it started when he knew that Moriarty would kill him and everyone he loved. And there was nothing Sherlock could do about it.
" Help me!" Sherlock yelled.
" Sherlock!" John's familiar voice yelled.
John looked helplessly from his position. He watched as Sherlock fell. Sherlock was full of fear as he waved his arms in the air, desperately trying to stop himself. For a second he convinced himself he could open his wings he got with being on the side of angels. But even Sherlock couldn't convince himself of lies.
His dream ended as it usually ended, with him hitting the ground with a sickening crack! You would think that seeing the same thing every night would make it a little less scary, that wasn't the case. He still woke up gasping and tears falling down his cheeks. He would always wake cold and alone, tired and sad. He would wish for someone to be there, but he also didn't like the idea of anyone seeing him so, well, normal.
But this time he wasn't alone.
John stood in the doorway with a look of shock on his face. He could see the sadness in his eyes. No, he won't stand for this, Sherlock jumped up and punched John square in the nose. He watched as his saddened look changed to pity. Sherlock hated it more. He hit his flat mate again, this time on the jaw. He saw John just shake his head and walk out.
Sherlock felt the pain in his chest swell. He screamed and kicked the wall. Over and over he kicked making holes in the wall and in his composer. He felt the tears fall and his foot break. John came back in with his First Aid kit and some water. He handed the water over and took off Sherlock's shoe. He looked down and saw how black and blue his feet were. He saw John fix up his foot and then he saw John stare at him.
" What?" Sherlock asked.
" What? Why the heck are you waking up screaming and then when I come to see if your okay, because your obviously not getting better, you hit me. Now, tell me, what's wrong?" John asked.
They sat in silence, until Sherlock spoke.
" Why are we here? I mean really, what's the point in life if all we can do is watch as people suffer. All we do is eat sleep and die. So why does it matter if one man dies? That's why people kill themselves, because they realize how worthless all of this really is. They are about as smart as anyone, but they can see past all the propaganda that this world puts out there. All the crap about peace and happiness, it isn't real. What is real is all the pain and suffering. So, John, What's wrong? What's wrong is everything. Life is worthless."
A/N : wow, not sure how I was capable of that, read on fellow Sherlockians. Oh and don't get sad, there's more coming
" Sherlock are you, are you depressed?" John asked.
" No! No I am not depressed. I'm perfectly fine, I can finally see. I can see life is horrible." Sherlock spat.
" Don't talk like that!"
" And you know what? I would trade everything to go back to the fall and do it all again. And this time it wouldn't be a trick. This..." Sherlock started.
" Shut up! Stop talking now, okay? Lay down and wait for me to come back." John commanded.
John was happy to come back and see Sherlock had obeyed. John picked up the water and handed him what he had gotten from downstairs. Sherlock made a face and leaned back.
" I told you I'm not depressed." He said.
" Yeah well you could have fooled me." John said shoving the pills into Sherlock's hand. "Take them and if you can stop acting like this, I'll let you stop taking them. And if you even once try to weasel your way out of this, I'll call Mycroft."
It went on for the next week, that is John forcing Sherlock to take the pills. Sherlock gradually got better. He didn't want to tell anyone, but he knew that John was right. This hadn't been the first time he had been this way. When his father went to jail, he had lots of nightmares. Lots. That made him, well, depressed.
Sherlock was back to normal in two months. He had some relapses, but it was nothing John couldn't handle. The fact of the matter was, there would always be pain and loss. But there also would be happiness. There also would be something else, Work. And everyone knew Sherlock was in it for the work.
So another chapter? yes, no, maybe so? Anyways how was is? your thoughts?