Hasn't been that long, has it?

Well, I hope you enjoy, and please PLEASE drop a review telling me what you think, since I would love to get some feedback!

I apologize if this chapter is a bit weird and short, but the next few will probably be better. At least I hope so...

I could hear them.

Their voices...I could hear them quite clearly. John. Mycroft. Lestrade. Mrs. Hudson. Molly. My parents...

I could hear them all.

At first, they were faint. I would catch the whisper of a word or two before their voices faded and my consciousness dimmed. Most of the time was spent struggling towards the tiny speck of light at the end of the long corridor. I crawled, for walking was far too painful. My lungs burned, but I ignored them. My mind dimmed every once in a while, but I kept pushing.

Sometime I would have to stop, curl in on myself and bite my tongue.

But only sometimes.

Their voices were enough to keep me going.

They were a distraction.

But as I moved further from the light, their voices got louder, clearer. I could hear them talking to me, urging me to wake up, to be okay.

And John...John especially. I heard his voice often, more than any other.

It kept me going. More than anything.

I...I honestly thought he was gone. I though he hated me for what I did to him, for leaving him. I thought...I thought he'd cut me out of his life. I didn't have a place in it, after all. He had Mary and a baby. No need for a Sherlock.

I thought that I wasn't needed. I thought he would never have time for me again. He hadn't visited me for a month, hadn't even texted me. No word from him. Nothing.

So...so I slipped away. I didn't have him there to ground me...to convince me I was still needed.

I didn't feel needed.

I thought I could just fade from existence. I thought nobody would care. They were all preoccupied. They were all busy with their own things. Mycroft with running the government. Lestrade with cases. Molly with work. John with Mary and their baby.

They didn't need me. They'd managed two years without me.

They could manage the rest...

Lestrade would solve cases on his own...

Mycroft had gone decades without a real brother, and my parents had gone decades without a proper second son, so they didn't need one now...

And John would have his family by the time I was gone. He wouldn't need me, calling him away at all hours. He needed a steady job, a home outside the city. He would have commitments and boring couple things and wine-fueled parties with neighbors. No time to solve cases. He wouldn't even want me around his children...

And I thought that...that even if I was ever found, they wouldn't care, wouldn't even come see me if I was found alive. I thought they wouldn't mourn, wouldn't even think of me.

I would fade.

I would be nothing more than a memory in the minds of a few.

Nothing more than a story.

Nothing.

I would be nothing.

They would move on like I never existed.

They would be okay, and I would be gone.

Everything would be at peace. Back to order. Back to the time before me, before I was difficult.

But no...no. I was wrong. I was wrong this entire time. Wrong, wrong, wrong.

They wanted me back.

They cared about me.

Mycroft, he missed me. He missed having a little brother. And my parents missed me...they still loved me. They missed me. I missed them.

And John...he needed me, his words, not mine.

He needed me. He needed me there. He wanted me back.

He still cared. He forgave me, for everything. For everything I did...for leaving him, for not telling him I was alive, for doing all this...

He forgave me.

So I payed attention to his words the most, John's. They were the strongest, the loudest. The most memorable.

They kept me going when I wanted to stop.

When I started failing, when all I wanted to do was lie down, he kept me going...

Now...

I'm so close now.

So close.

I'm standing, leaning against the wall for a little support. But I was doing well. I hurt less. My lungs don't burn. My bones don't ache. My head doesn't throb.

I feel better.

And I'm so close.

I can almost touch the door, the new one. Light filters through the cracks. I can see it.

It's life.

I can hear it too. The buzz, the buzz of life.

I can do it.

I can reach out right now and grab the knob.

I can open the door and rejoin the land of the living.

I can get back. I can be better.

I can see John and Mycroft and Molly and everyone.

I can get another chance. I can be better than before. I can try harder.

I can be okay. I can be better than okay.

So I do it, without hesitation. I move my hands, shaking with anxiety instead of pure exhaustion, and grasp the doorknob.

I throw the door open open.

I'm bathed in a new light, and it is blinding.

I step over the threshold.

I don't shake anymore.

But I open my eyes despite the white brightness, to the sight of a white tiled ceiling.

Machines drone around me.

I'm home.

I'm alive.

YEP! ALIVE! BE EXCITED!

Let me know what you think :)