Fully Alive
Chapter Five
Vivienne awoke to the sound of breathing coming from Sherlock's usual spot in the dark but he said nothing when she rolled over. His breathing didn't sound like it normally did. If anything, it was a bit erratic. Possibly nervous. Or scared.
"Holmes? Are you okay?" Vivienne asked, sitting up.
No answer. The thought crossed her mind that maybe it wasn't Sherlock. That maybe someone else had broken in and decided to be a creep and sit in the dark. But no. The room was filled with the scent of Old Spice and cigarettes. It was him.
" Holmes." Still no answer. "Sherlock. Knock on the wall if you're conscious. One knock if you are. Two if you aren't."
Sherlock let out a small chuckle and Vivienne relaxed.
"What's so funny? You scared me half to death."
"Please enlighten me to exactly how I'm supposed to knock twice if I'm unconscious." His voice sounded almost normal, but something was off.
Vivienne laughed. "It got you to speak, didn't it?" She bit her lip. "Are you alright?"
"Of course, I am." Sherlock paused. "For the most part, at least. I thought I was alright, but my flat was too much. I needed a quiet place to think."
"Did something happen while you were gone?" The last time she had seen Sherlock this...off...was the day he had left her.
"The usual. Guy thinks he sees a gigantic hound rip apart his father, dwells on it for 20 years, asks me to investigate. Turns out he's being drugged and is hallucinating said giant hound. I get drugged. See the hound. Go a bit crazy for a moment..."
"You mean crazier." Vivienne interjected.
"Oh, shut up." Sherlock half-snapped. "I'm telling you a bedtime story. Anyways. I figure out how we're being drugged. A man steps on a landmine." He grinned, and though Vivienne couldn't see it, she could practically feel it. "A day in the life of Sherlock Holmes, really."
"That was a terrible bedtime story." Vivienne cocked an eyebrow. "Try again. Once more with feeling."
"Well, I'm sorry my storytelling isn't up to your standards. I'll try to do better." Sherlock thought for a moment. "How do you feel about an ending with maggots eating away at a man's eyeballs?"
"On second thought, please don't try again. That's disgusting." Vivienne wanted nothing more than to take a seat right next to Sherlock but thought better of it. "Why did you need a quiet place to think?"
Sherlock stayed quiet for a moment debating on whether or not to say anything. His feelings for Vivienne, and the memories of her being his confidante (however briefly it was), won. "Being drugged, seeing that hound, and not knowing what was going on, it... it scared me more than I'd like to admit."
Vivienne smiled a bit at the confession.
"Tell anyone I said that and I'll deny it. And I'll kill you."
And he's back. Vivienne thought with a chuckle. "I'm terrified. And I'm sure I'll see it coming."
Sherlock groaned. "Why do you insist on flogging a dead horse?"
"Whatever do you mean, Mr. Holmes?" Vivienne smiled innocently.
"The blind jokes. What's the point?" You didn't used to be like that, he thought.
"Helps me cope sometimes." Vivienne shrugged. "I've been this way for 20 years and it's not getting any better. Gotta deal with it somehow. Are you tired?"
"Not in the slightest. You?"
"Not anymore. But I could eat." Vivienne grinned and raised her eyebrows, hoping Sherlock would get the hint.
"Go put some clothes on. I know a place."
Vivienne hurried off her couch to go get dressed. She quickly threw her hair into a topknot and somehow found two matching shoes. She was back in the living room in less than four minutes.
Sherlock took hold of her arm and they walked out, with him shutting the door behind them. "Do you like Italian? I got the owner off of a murder charge. We'll eat for free." He stated as they stepped out of 221b onto the desolate, illuminated sidewalk of Baker Street.
"I can't believe he thought I was your date." Vivienne laughed, fumbling with her key in the door.
"Well," Sherlock began as he took the key and unlocked the door. "You look a bit better than the last person he thought was my date."
"And who was that?" Vivienne asked, curious as to who Sherlock would be eating out with.
"John." Sherlock stated matter-of-factly. He couldn't help but laugh as Vivienne doubled over cackling.
"Oh, you're joking!" Vivienne exclaimed as she got her breath back. "Would you like some tea? Sun's coming up."
"I think I'll let you get some sleep, actually. You look exhausted."
"Well, I feel better than I have in a while. Thank you."
"No. Thank you. I think I needed that. A good time and a good laugh, I mean."
Vivienne sighed. There he was again, acting like she had remembered him. Of course, back then he had been sober for only 6 months. But he was far less cynical than he was now. He was more open, more of what she believed to be his true self. "I liked hearing you laugh again." She paused. "Was that inappropriate? I'm sorry."
"Never apologize for telling the truth."
"Well, here's another truth. I wish I could feel your smile. Just one more time."
Sherlock stayed quiet, but Vivienne could feel the slight vibrations of him walking towards her. He took her hand and placed it on his cheek. She smiled moving her fingertips gently across to his mouth.
She could feel the lines formed around his lips. He had really smiled for her. Without warning, she moved her fingers up and over his cheekbones. To the small wrinkles forming around his eyes. Up to his hair. He was exactly as she remembered him. She closed her eyes trying to keep hold of the moment. It took all she had to keep them shut and control her surprise as she felt lips press against her forehead and linger a moment longer than she expected. For a tiny, fleeing second, she thought he might say he remembered. But he stayed quiet. She steadied her breathing as she felt footsteps slowly retreating and then heard the faint click of her door latching shut.
Damn you, Sherlock Holmes. Damn you. She thought, unable to move from where she was standing.
It had been days since Sherlock had visited and when he did, he said things that Vivienne wasn't quite ready to hear.
"I need you to come with me." His voice was urgent.
Vivienne sat up at the sound of his voice and rubbed the sleep from her eyes. "What's going on? What's the matter?"
"Get dressed. I need you to come with me." Sherlock paused. "Please."
"Are you okay? Where are we going?"
"I'm going to die, Vivienne. And I need your help." Sherlock took a deep breath. He knew he was asking too much when he heard her breath catch in her throat.
"I can't- I can't help you with that." Vivienne's throat was dry. Was he really asking what she thought he was asking?
"You can. I need you. Get dressed. We're going to Bart's."
"Holmes, there's gotta be something-"
"No. There isn't. I've exhausted all other options. I have to die. And you have to help."
xxxxx
A/N: Ugh. I'm sorry I've been away a few more days than I was expecting. I hit a small patch of writers block. I knew how I wanted to do the next chapter and how I wanted to end this one but I couldn't figure out how to get the beginning of this one to lead into that. And then I moved and all together just lost a tiny bit of inspiration. But I got it back! :) hope you liked this one! Don't forget to review, favorite, and follow!