Sherlock story
Deleted Memories, Chapter 59
Warning: post Reichenbach spoilers. Hope you enjoy.
As promised LadyRavena, here is two for you, 59 and 60.
*As always thanks for reading, a special thanks to all of you who take the time to review, comment, and favorite.
WARNING: Mature themes
"If you're going through hell, keep going." ~Winston Churchill
Deleted Memories of Abduction
For the first time, Sherlock considered if maybe not telling Mycroft he was alive was a mistake. Mycroft had found him the few times he had managed to get himself into a situation like this.
Mycroft would not look. He had fooled Mycroft thoroughly.
Despite his claims of logical motives, anger and disappointment had influenced his decision. Despite their bickering, he had always trusted Mycroft so his betrayal had hurt.
In his precarious situation, Sherlock told himself there was no point in further denial of the truth.
There were spasms of pain throughout his body. His body convulsed on the ground. He ground his teeth together and groaned. Sherlock's breathing was irregular as he rode through the pain.
Sherlock waited for someone to find him, for the terrorist to return, or death to claim him; for whatever was going to happen to happen.
He surprised himself now by thinking of very human mundane things. The people he cared about.
He could admit he cared about them now, could he not? He was dying after all.
He thought of Mrs. Hudson, and of Mycroft. Mycroft back when they shared secrets and confidence. Sherlock hated the thought of Mycroft being truly alone.
More than anyone, he thought of John, his one true friend.
Sherlock never thought he was the kind of man to have friends, much less a best mate, an ally.
He had once thought these things dull. Now, the dull was all that occupied his mind.
Sherlock eyes grew heavy, he forgot to hold his side, his blood stained hands fell away. His eyes slowly closed.
He thought of John again. His eye fluttered open. He had to stay alive, John would be cross if he died.
Sherlock thought he heard running. The terrorist had returned. Sherlock saw no point in fighting to stay awake anymore. They could kill him just as easily unconscious as conscious.
Sherlock stop fighting against the pull of darkness.
Sherlock felt someone touching him; Ayyad's men had returned Sherlock's foggy mind concluded. He moaned and tried to turn away even while he knew his efforts were pointless.
Strong hands held him in place.
"Wow mate, take it easy."
Sherlock blinked rapidly trying to orient himself. "Mmm….John?"
Everything faded to black.
Authors Note: The end of this chapter, 59 refers back to the event in chapter 4.
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