A/N: In case you don't know what's going on in this chapter, it's one of Sherlock's hallucinations, as explained by end of the last chapter. Just so you know, this is my first time writing a fanfic especially one like this, so I'm sorry if it's not that good. So please leave reviews, it would be appreciated. Thank you.
The pale man was propped on a chair. Just finished with a case. A fire crackled beside him. A stiff, unused chair stared across at him. He stared back. What do you want?, it asked. What can you possibly give?, he asked back. A seat for a friend, it answered. The detective glared at the empty seat and looked away into the unending clutter of the room. Friends, the thought was mostly ignored and glowered upon, now why on Earth would I need those things? The detective shook his head from the mere thought and continued to reflect on his earlier case. A case involving a cabbie with aneurysm, four serial murders, and a bottle containing poisonous pills was in charge of his mind.
Yet he couldn't resist glancing back at the chair. The same conversation replayed over and over. A seat for a friend, the chair would always reply.
Repeating again and again. Friends. Until the words beaten him.
Bruises began to form. Cuts dug deep into his flesh until they found bone. Blood was determined to escape from the poor body.
His eyes began to water. Head was in hands. His jaw began to quiver. The man stood up, head held high, trying to stay strong. The fire's orange light glowed on his face. Come on, don't be stupid.
He walked over to his violin and gently lifted it up with a shaking hand. He took the bow with his right and dropped it once before he picked it up again. The bow softly kissed the stings, and the violin tenderly sang. But his hands began to falter.
Kissing turned to punching, and singing was followed by shrieks. Water dripped on the violin's finish. His hands stopped to work any longer.
Everything fell. The violin crashed onto the floor. The bow ran off away into the mess. Loneliness crushed the detective onto his knees. He held himself up with his arms, which took great effort. His breath began to quicken and tremble. More tears formed and fell into the deep velvet of the ground.
Darkness swirled around and stroked him. Space closed up upon him. Silence rose and covered him. The three whispered quietly. Oh the poor man. Look at him. His heart can't catch up to his mind.
"I'm so lost. And alone. And confused." The detective mumbled."And there is no one to save me."
The man was breaking and nobody saw.