Author's Note: Sorry it's been a while. My life has been complete shit recently. Loads of suicide thoughts. Anyway, enjoy.
I wish I could believe you. This is actually happening and it hurts. It hurts, John. Hell, it hurts so much that I broke a promise. Our promise. Mycroft wants me in rehab now. I won't let him put me there. I know I should but I don't want to stop. Rehab won't help unless I want to stop. And I don't. Not now. It's just not worth it. You weren't even supposed to know.
Sherlock.
"It's not worth it? Am I not worth it? Do you have any idea how much it kills me that you're doing this? If you don't go to rehab, I swear to God, I will fucking walk to that flat and drag you there. And you want to know why? Because I actually fucking care about you! I would go out there and get myself shot just so I could come home and help you! And I will if you need me to. I would do anything for you.
John."
