Chapter 15: The Heart Must Surrender~

"So...I guess that makes you the King in Terror now...Well, I never saw that coming, your nibs!" John laughed, very carefully changing the blood soaked bandages around Sherlock's abdomen, and reapplying a clotting solution, brow crinkled, with many concerns only a doctor would know to trouble himself with.

"John, I need to tell you something..."

John didn't look up from what he was doing.

"Go on, I'm all ears..."

"Well, that's just it ,I don't know how. I am complete rubbish at this sort of thing."

John looked up at him, a brow raised. Sherlock swallowed...looking confused. Whatever he was thinking, feeling, whatever human thing had left him in such a stupor, would have to be examined before they were to go a single step forward, in the result of this case, and in life as a general rule. John drew a deep breath. He'd secretly hoped for a long time this conversation would come...

"Think the only way to say it is just to say it, Sherlock." he answered, matter of factly. Sherlock swallowed.

"I know what I've been like recently...I know that...it troubles you...I know that...for your sake, I am going to have to change. I'm not the man that I was, which is probably a good thing. You see, I was probably the most obnoxious man that ever breathed before...and I've been given a second chance..."

Now John was really listening.

"And a third and a fourth chance...I don't know how to make it clear to you, but I have a solution to the great dilemma of how to fix me now that I am so broken. You were the one who always believed I was a man beneath all of that Great Machine...and you were the one that prayed for a miracle. So I came back to you John, from beyond the Grave. It was not Destiny, not some call to return to unfinished Work that brought me back to life,John. It was you. You saved me."

John's jaw had gone slack. Sherlock was actually trying to have a heart to heart with him? As strange as this was...it was a very good thing, and John felt almost giddy wondering if it could possibly mean what he hoped it did, that Sherlock was actually going to be ok now, was going to be himself again...

Sherlock swallowed, unsure of himself.

"I love you, John."

John laughed, not having expected to ever hear those three words out of Sherlock Holmes!

"Well, I mean, not like...Not sentimentally or like umm romantically or anything like ahhh..."

"I know what you mean, you dolt!" John laughed, clutching Sherlock's hands, and Sherlock laughed, and chewed at his lip, still morbidly confused, but trying his best.

"Before Jim Moriarty came around, I thought that I truly didn't have a heart. But he knew better...and targeted that part of me that is my greatest weakness, but also my greatest strength. It appears that you are my heart,and that I have to heed your voice of sanity, and surrender to you ,every time. It was you that I died for, and you that I survived for. Living is more than survival though, it's an art, and needs to be a little more original than what I've been doing as of late. I think...I think I'm going to actually live, John. For you. Come back from the Empty Black, and start over. I had you to guide me before, and if I am steadfast I think, surely, I could follow you again...I..."

Sherlock never finished what he was saying, because John was basically smothering him in his embrace, trying not to hurt him. Sherlock was further surprised to feel John's lips press against his forehead, kissing him firmly between the eyes.

"I knew there was hope for you..."John mumbled into Sherlock's shoulder,with a softly crackling laugh. "Don't try to solve that one, I just knew...Oh God yes, Sherlock, yes you can, and yes you will...I will see to it personally. We've just got to get through this case first...Which we can't do if you don't at least somewhat recover from the row in the back alley today. Lay back now." he laid him down, all the way, and noticed that he winced. Finally admitting to himself that he really did hurt.

"You know...it's not really living, just surviving more or less...to deny when you are in pain...I could help. I could give you something for the physical part of it. I will be here for all the rest..."

"Being perfectly open and honest isn't really my forte, but...I was afraid...to ask...well..."

"Because you thought you'd get hooked again? No...no I wouldn't allow that to happen. If you self-medicate ,that would be a problem. But clearly, you haven't been doing that, I would be able to tell...Being perfectly honest, I am very proud of you for holding out without doing that...for so long. You don't have to be in pain anymore...God knows you don't...But I can help...Will you let me?"

Sherlock swallowed, "Please?" he asked.

And the way he said it was enough to tell John all he needed to know. Under all that Black, under all that terrible aura, and cold mask he wore, he had been desperate for the pain to stop. That really was the root of all of it, the merciless ,cruel, dark-hearted man he believed himself to be. The man that wanted to go back to Sleep...It was only a man in terrible pain, voraciously desperate for the pain to end.

"Ok." John said, softly, smiling at him, and reaching and smoothing back his hair. He turned, and pulled a syringe out of his medical bag. Filled it with the strongest pain medication that he had, and reached, and wrapped Sherlock's vein, wiping it off, and sticking him with the needle. He smiled at him, seeing the guard let down in his eyes, and the mummified grey uncoiling from him, the full ,untold extent of his pain laid bare, pain of that extent itself a ravaging mental illness...No wonder...Feeling great anguish at finally understanding just how badly he hurt, and great relief at ,at last, being permitted to help him, John laughed, and pushed the liquid into his veins...

"Go to sleep, Sherlock..." he whispered.

About 3 seconds went by ,before Sherlock surrendered to euphoria, just for a moment finding a small measure of peace.

"Looks like you've finally seen the light, little brother. Love is the only thing that's ever going to guide your ship to shore..." John whispered, bending over him,and kissing his forehead again, very carefully getting up ,lest he at all upset the bed, and milling about the room, quietly occupying himself with other necessary things, letting him at last sleep...just not the Sleep he thought he needed.