Tuesday 10.53
"Sherlock. I think we should talk. Call me. JW"
Tuesday 22.16
"No answer? What are you up to? JW"
Wednesday 13.13
"Sherlock. You can't avoid me forever. We need to talk about this. JW"
Wednesday 17.44
"Sherlock?"
Thursday 17.47
"Are you ok? JW"
Friday 23.57
"I haven't heard from you in days. Coming over tomorrow! JW"
Saturday 19.37
"Was over at your place today. You weren't there. Mrs Hudson hasn't seen you since Monday! I'm worried Sherlock. JW"
Saturday 02.17
"I can't handle this silence Sherlock. I need to know what's happening. I need to know you're alright. Where are you? JW"
Saturday 02.24
"You bloody bastard! We kissed! We fucking kissed Sherlock! What was that? Did that mean anything to you? JW"
Saturday 02.32
"I didn't mean to yell at you. I'm sorry. JW"
Saturday 02.33
"But you could just answer! JW"
Saturday 02.43
"I am a mess Sherlock. I don't know anything. I'm lost. This is more than I can handle... JW"
Saturday 02.44
"I don't need you! JW"
Saturday 02.46
"I do need you! Come back! Please... JW"
Saturday 03.22
"Please... Sherlock. Please!"
Saturday 03.25
"Please come back to me. I beg you. I can't do this on my own. Please Sherlock. For me... JW"
Another week passed and John didn't hear from Sherlock. All he could think of was their kiss. How Sherlock's lips had been touching his. How he could feel him. How every cell in his body had been trembling. But not hearing from Sherlock was an agony not known to this world. Mary was concerned for him, he knew that, but she thought he was worried for his best friend. And in a way he was. But now it was more than best friends, everything had changed. No one had heard from him or seen him since the day after the kiss. And only John knew about that. Lestrade had tried to lure him back with some interesting cases, but nothing. Mycroft was looking. Searching. He had seen this before, John knew it. In a way John blamed himself for Sherlock's disappearance. If he hadn't kissed him in the first place, none of this would've happen. Sherlock wouldn't have gone. But, said a small voice in John's head, he kissed you too. He was the one to kiss you that second time, remember. At night he dreamed about Sherlock. Always the same dream. They stood on a dark road, in the middle of nowhere. They were facing each other.
- Where are you? John asked.
- I can't tell you, Sherlock answered in the dream.
Silence echoed between them.
- What do you want John?
- Do you know the way? John asked
- The way to whom?
- I'm lost in you, can you please help me to find my way back home?
But Sherlock didn't answer. Instead Sherlock disappeared, slowly. Fading out. Then he was gone.
It was Sunday and John and Mary were sitting in the kitchen eating dinner. Pork chops and chips. It didn't taste of anything. John didn't want to eat. He was staring silently in front of him. Mary looked at him, with worry in her eyes. She had seen this before, when she'd met John and Sherlock had been dead. They were interrupted by the phone ringing. John rushed up to answer.
- John.
- John, its Greg. Mycroft found him.
- What?
- He's in really bad shape John.
- Where is he?
- In the hospital. An overdose... cocaine.
- Oh my god. Is he going to be alright?
- I don't know. You should go see him.
- I'm on my way!
For a moment John was just staring at the phone.
- What's happening? Mary asked
- They've found him, John said, I really got to go!
He hurried away to the hallway, struggled to put on his jacket. Mary followed after him.
- I'm coming with you, she said.
- No I need to go Mary.
- Yes I know. And I'm coming with you.
- I'm in a hurry Mary! He can die!
- I know that and I'm coming with you, she nearly shouted at John.
John finally nodded and they both ran out on the street and into the car. John was driving but maybe he shouldn't have. He drove way to fast and was way to worried to function. It took them twenty minutes to get to the hospital and they both rushed in to the reception.
- How can I help you, sir? The lady behind the desk asked.
- We're here too see Sherlock Holmes. John said short of breath.
- I'm gonna check that for you, the lady said, wait a minute.
A minute seemed like forever for John, the seconds ticking slowly.
- He's in the ICU sir, the lady said, the fourth floor, room 412.
- Thank you!
John and Mary ran to the elevators and up to floor four. It took a while to find Sherlock's room but eventually they found it. Lestrade stood outside the room and nodded a hello to Mary and John. The first thing John saw when they entered the room was Sherlock lying in the bed with Mycroft sitting in a chair beside the bed. Sherlock was really pale and had a tube with oxygen in his nose and some other tubes on his chest, measuring the heartbeat, he had a white hospital shirt on and looked so small and weak it was heartbreaking.
- Oh my god Sherlock, John gasped
Mycroft, who had faced Sherlock turned around and saw both John and Mary.
- John. Mary. He said.
- Is he gonna be alright, Mary asked.
- They don't know yet, said Mycroft. They have flushed his stomach and given him all the treatment they can for the moment. It's up to Sherlock now.
John walked up to the bed and looked at his friend. He felt tears coming up in his eyes. He had lost Sherlock once, he just couldn't do it again. Not after what happen between them, he'll always blame himself. He took Sherlock's hand and sniffled.
- Where did you find him? John asked slowly.
- Down by the river at Bankside. It looked like he'd been lying there for a while, he was so cold and barely breathing. I hope I wasn't too late...
Mycroft looked at John and saw tears running down his face.
- Here, take my seat, Mycroft said standing up, offering the chair to John.
- Thank you, John said
John sat down beside Sherlock's bed, holding his hand, silently crying. Mary came up to him and laid her arms round John's shoulders. She hugged him and kissed him on the head. John smiled slightly at Mary then continued to look at Sherlock.
- Have you any idea why he did this? Mary asked Mycroft.
- It could've been anything really, Mycroft said, he's unpredictable my little brother.
When he said this Mycroft was looking at John as he wanted to see Johns reaction to this. Like Mycroft knew more than he said to Mary.
- But something must've triggered this?
- Yes Mary, that's for sure. But we can only guess. The only one that knows for sure is Sherlock himself, and right now he's unable to speak for himself.
I know too, John thought, but I can't tell them.
- Have he done anything like this before?
- He's been having a drug problem for years. But it has been under control for some time now. Probably at the same time John entered his life. You have helped him a lot John.
- He's helped me too, John said shortly.
A short silence in the room.
- It's getting late, Mycroft said, I'm gonna go home and get some rest.
Mycroft walked through the room and up beside John, and gave him a gentle squeeze on the shoulder.
- Look after him will you?
- Yes I will.
Then Mycroft went out from the room. John could hear Mycroft silently talking to Lestrade outside the room, then their voices faded away and he knew that they had walked away. It was only him and Mary left in the room with Sherlock. And they were sitting in silence for a long while. Mary didn't have a chair so she was sitting on the floor. John looked up at the clock on the wall. It was almost midnight. Doctors and nurses had been coming and going for the past hours. But they still couldn't give John or Mary any answers. It was still up to Sherlock. John looked over at Mary who was half asleep sitting on the floor in the corner of the room. He let go of Sherlocks hand that he'd been holding the past hours and went over to Mary. Stroke her gently over the cheek.
- Mary, you should go home. Get some rest, John said.
Mary woke up and looked at John.
- Are you sure?
- Yes of course I'm sure. Go home and rest and we'll see each other tomorrow.
- Alright, she said and stood up, you could come with me you know.
- No Mary, I can't.
- You can't do anything now sweetheart.
- I can be here. Sit at his side. I'm not leaving him.
- Ok. I'm not gonna argue with you. I'm coming back tomorrow.
She kissed John and went out of the room leaving John alone with Sherlock. The room was dark and the chair was uncomfortable. He took Sherlock's hand in his and held it.
- Please Sherlock, wake up. I can't live without you. I... I am... damn, it's so hard saying out loud even if I know you can't hear me.
There was a short pause. John took a deep breath.
- I am in love with you Sherlock. I love you, you moron. You can't disappear from me. I won't let you.
After this he leaned over the bed, feeling tired. And even if the position he was in was uncomfortable, he fell asleep