Where to go?
I'm walking the streets wondering where I should go.
I'm going to be in trouble for running away, but I don't care.
One place keeps coming into my mind, I have a spare flat I keep in case of emergencies, Mycroft knows where it is though...
Drug den?
Perfect, I could use a fix right now.
Quickly, I rout my way to a drug den.
This is a good idea, why didn't I think of it sooner?
After stopping by my dealer and getting some drugs, I go and find a spot in the drug den.
Allan would be angry.
Well, Allan is gone now. So, why shouldn't I go whatever the fuck comes into my head?
John will be mad.
John doesn't care.
Mycroft will be mad.
Good.
You see, the great thing about drug dens is no on pays attention to who you are, other than the dealer of course.
I could hide out here for the rest of my life and no one would be the wiser.
Unless someone came looking for me, then I would be in an awkward situation, considering I'm supposed to be clean.
Before I have time to rethink my decision, I start the process.
Tourniquet, find a vein
This is a wonderful idea, why didn't I think of it sooner?
While it is harder with burned hands, I still accomplish my task.
"Because you're a stupid cock."
Allan's words ring in my head.
True, true.
Previous steps being completed, now it's time for the final step... Injection.
Really, I should have come here as soon as I could. I've spent god only knows how long in that wretched flat with a man who doesn't care about me.
Fuck John's new rules. Allan knew best, and now he's gone.
What am I to do with myself now?
Allan and I were going to move to another city at some point... maybe I should do that.
No, Mycroft would drag me back.
Fuck you Mycroft, Fuck you and you're stupid government.
I close my eyes, relishing the feeling of the drugs in my system.
I have missed this.
When I come out of my high, I realize something that I should have long ago.
I left my violin at the lab.
Shit.
I know that I can't go back for it, but the loss of it again breaks my heart.
What do I do?
My hands are feeling a little better, that's good.
I examine them, it appears the burn is only a first degree. My skin is intact, but it still hurts a lot.
Maybe I should have gone to the hospital.
No, absolutely not.
What if John is worried about me?
No, he wouldn't be worried about me.
What am I going to do, I've been gone over night... what if he's looking for me?
He wouldn't bother, he doesn't care.
I wish I were able to ignore the hollowness in my stomach. Even though I don't eat much, I do get hungry sometimes. I didn't eat anything yesterday, and John's been making me eat... so now I am experiencing hunger.
What do I do?
Teach myself I don't deserve it, hence I can't want it.
I don't deserve food, so I'm not going to get any.
As the day wears on I remember that George said I could stop by and see new cases.
Maybe it wouldn't hurt to go see a few...
I force myself up and feel my head spinning.
Most likely low blood sugar, nothing to worry about.
My head is a bit foggy, but I go outside onto the street and look around. Now... how do I get to Scotland yard?
After five minutes of reminding my brain where everything is, I find myself at Scotland yard.
I should have taken a cab, but I don't have any currency to pay. I spent the last of it on a fix.
Walking towards Lestrade's office as if I'm not dizzy and feeling like I'm going to pass out, I look around to see who is present today.
Anderson and Donovan are watching me with pitying looks, it makes me angry, but I keep to myself.
I stop at Gordon's door, pausing for a second to compose myself, then I open it.
"What cases do you have?" Are the first words I say to him
"Sherlock!" He rushes over to me, looking surprised to see me. "John and Mycroft are looking for you."
Shit.
"Cases." I repeat, ignoring that John and Mycroft are searching for me.
"Where have you been?" He sits down behind his desk, and I remain standing.
"Geoff, I don't have time for this, what cases do you have?"
"I have to call Mycroft." Lestrade picks up his phone.
"Do you have cases or not?!" I snap, growing tired of being questioned.
"Mycroft, we got him." He is now talking to my brother on the phone.
I shake my head and turn to leave.
"Wait, don't go, I have cases." Lestrade shouts.
"You have five seconds to interest me."
"Serial killer."
"... Continue."
"Well, people keep getting killed in the same way and... umm..."
"Is this another trick?" I feel my face turning to a scowl.
"No!" He shakes his head no rapidly.
"Where and how?" I sit down across from him.
"They're being overdosed, and we've found bodies in different places, mostly on trolleys."
"What makes you think it's a serial killer?" I find this uninteresting.
"Everything about it, it doesn't say suicide does it?"
No, but I do.
"You're stalling." I realize.
The door behind me opens and in walks Mycroft.
"Hello, Brother mine."
"You tricked me." I stand to my feet, outraged and betrayed. "Two times you've done this." I seethe.
This is not okay.
"Sherlock-" Lestrade looks remorseful.
"No." I can't seem to find it in myself to care.
"It was my idea." Mycroft buds in.
"That makes it worse." My anger is directed at both of them.
"You were missing, we could only assume you'd gone and done something... stupid." He glares at me. "Did you make a list?"
"List?" Lestrade looks confused.
"I think I'll be leaving now." My vision decides to go black when I stand up, making me sway on my feet.
"Call Dr. Watson, Sherlock may need medical attention." Mycroft pushes me back down into my seat.
"Right." Lestrade just shakes his head and does as he's told.
I ignore Mycroft and listen to Lestrade's conversation with John.
"John, we found him... he's here in my office... No... He's a bit worked up, and Mycroft keeps asking him about a list... Oh shit... yes, we'll call and have him taken-... right."
"To the hospital for you, Brother mine." Mycroft whispers to me.
"Piss off." I snarl.
Why won't he leave me alone?