Heyaa :) New chapter! What's this? A continuation of Coming Clean before the next chorus? Yes! Enjoy! :D Warning for drug use and attempted suicide (these warnings really give the plot away)
An angel will die
Covered in white
Closed eye
And hoping for a better life
This time, we'll fade out tonight
Straight down the line
Sherlock had lied.
He remembered what had happened. Most of it, anyway He remembered going to the dealer and requesting more cocaine than was medically safe. He remembered finding a quiet alleyway. And he remembered thinking that he was going to die a boring, ordinary death, cold and alone. He was past caring however, and as he plunged the needle into the crook of his arm a smile flitted across his lips at the content feeling pumping around his veins. He wondered if anyone would find him but concluded that if anyone did they wouldn't stop to help him. If his life was to fade out of the world on the unremarkable September Tuesday night, no one would bat an eyelid. Mycroft acted like he cared about him, but he saw through that to the man who put up with him for the sake of family. He supposed Lestrade regarded him as almost a friend but all he really was to him was a burden, taking his money and his hospitality in exchange for the answers to a couple of questions. The only other person in the world who would care if Sherlock Holmes lived or died was Angel and she was dead. Sucked from the world in much the same way as he was about to go, though rather more forcibly than him.
He was sure he had that clichéd moment where his life flashed before his eyes but he couldn't recall the exact pictures. But as he flickered in and out of tired existence a phrase broke clearly through the haze in his mind. "It takes more courage to live than to die." Now, Sherlock had always been the most stubborn of characters, if someone told him that he couldn't do something then he was sure to try. And at this small sentence he saw a challenge. If dying made him a coward then he would make sure he lived, just to show the world that they hadn't beaten him yet. He struggled off the damp and dirty floor and staggered onto the street, half forming plans on how to find help.
He couldn't remember anything after that and certainly couldn't recall how he had managed to stumble onto Mycroft's front steps. And although he wouldn't admit it even to himself, he was glad. Because maybe what he thought he had seen was wrong and someone in the big bad world cared. And perhaps that would make his struggle easier.
Don't ask about why I said the big bad world...I don't have an answer but don't want to change it. Another short one, I swear I'm not doing this on purpose, they just keep coming out this way. Review please! Thank you to phanpiggy and SWBloodwolf for being cool :)