Chapter 26

Another bit of self harm trigger warning.

Um

I don't even know. I did this mid-period where I may/may not have supposed to have been doing history work. Meh

This is a lot like last chapter, but most is in Sherlocks perspective, first person

Enjoy and Review!

It was supposed to go perfectly.

I'd had Mycroft keeping an eye on John for me, and the moment I'd gotten rid of Moriarty's workforce, I would've gone straight back. Except there never was that happy reunion I had so frequently pictured.

I'd been waiting across the street to catch a glimpse of John, knowing today was the day of the weekly shop, when I heard the screams.

Mary's screams.

I waited for a few seconds, deciding whether it could be handled without me. An urgent text from Mycroft confirmed my beliefs

- Go, and quickly – MH

I raced down the stairs from my temporary flat, and across the road straight into their flat, shoving a teary mary out of the way to reach the locked bathroom door.

I shouted his name repeatedly as I tried to break through

'John'

'John!'

John!'

I received no response, my hopes that he had just fallen asleep in the bath, seeping away with every passing second. Finally, the door gave way under my weight.

I fell into the small bathroom, and came across my John slumped against the sink, blood dripping from his ferociously sliced wrists. 'no' I whispered, quickly pulling off my scarf and tying it roung his wrists, my feeble attempt to stem the flow of blood.

Mary had crept up behind me. She'd started by trying to push me away, but knowing that would out her in an even worse situation, she was now watching, talking to john or to me, I could no longer tell.

I lifted John into my arms, and as I turned towards the door, I saw his eyes flicker towards me, widening in surprise when he perhaps realised it was me.

'I love you' I whispered, finally allowing my tears to fall, knowing that it was I who had put John into this situations.

John didn't reply, his eyes rolled slightly, and he feel into unconsciousness.

I cant remember what I said, but before I'd hardly had the chance to sit down with him in the amubulance, I was being pushed out, on Mary's orders.

I hailed a cab, and ordered them to take me to the hospital; I texted Mycroft on the way.

- John's condition unstable, why didn't you alert me of this sooner? – SH

a response arrived almost immediately.

- I had the cameras removed from their flat on your orders. But I'm sorry, Sherlock. He hasn't been handling this well for a while. I should of thought that he would relapse. – MH

I sighed, my mind fuzzy, ticking over the text I received. So he'd gone to see Mycroft, and this had made him feel suicidal? I promised myself not to allow Mycroft to babysit if we ever have kids.

What was I saying?

I glared at the taxi driver as he turned on some type of obscene music.

'can you turn that off, please?' I shouted angrily, the music jumping, fuzzy and stuttering.

He was fiddling with the buttons, which apparently weren't foing what they were supposed to.

The song cut out, overpowered by a laugh.

I'd heard it before.

Moriarty.

'quick!' he chucked through the low quality speaker. The driver almost crashed, gaping at the radio he was sure he had turned off. 'He's dying!' Jim sang, his voice fading out, being replaced once more by the music.

I panicked when I finally reached the hospital.

I may have almost defeated his kingdom, but was still very much alive for now…

Sherlock reached the hospital word, and found himself face-to-face with an angry mary.

'Miss Morstan' he whispered politely, trying to look through the windown into the ward. 'please'.

He sounded desperate. 'who the hell are you?' she quipped, squaring her shoulders.

'Sherlock Holmes' he muttered in response, praying that she wouldn't recognise his name. He was in no fit state to lie, not today and not here.

But of course she did.

Her delicate eyebrows raised and she began to form a question, but he stopped her, hushing her into silence. 'please. Let me see him. I understand he hasn't been will since I've been gone, but it was necessary, I swear to god it was. Please let me see him.'

For a few seconds Mary looked at him, her eyes narrowed as if trying to figure him out. She nodded her head, and gulped a sigh. She was stronger than he originally thought.

'okay.' She said. 'ill be there when he wakes up, and then ill tell you to come in when I know if he'll cope okay. You better have a fucking incredible explanation planned' she grinned. 'but maybe this'll stop John from feeling…I'm sure he'll be happy his best friend isn't dead, if anything'

Ah. He hadn't told her their whole history. Understandably.

Sherlock tried his hardest to dislike Mary, but he was finding it difficult. She had many qualities that John possessed, and she wasn't dim. Yet this was the one barrier which stopped him and John from returning to what they once were.

But even without her in their way, was that possible?

'thank you' he whispered, attempting his most natural smile.

I watched as Mary spoke to John when he awoke.

I saw his happiness when their lips touched.

I saw his facial expression switch when she mentioned me.

I caught his eyes as he searched for me.

I took a deep breath as Mary swept past, squeezed my shoulder and whispered 'good luck'.

I walked in, trying my best to look confident for the man I hadn't seen in person for more than two years.

'John' I whispered, tears quickly blurring my vision.

I looked deep into the grey eyes that were staring up at me, and waited for the ray of hope, the smile that was the only thing which could ever possibly bring me out of a bad state, anger, sadness, jealousy.

It didn't come.

The face I had grown to recongise and love was distorted; a thin face replaced the slightly rounded one, grey, worn skin covered what was previously young, bright and glowing.

He looked far older than the years he had clocked up as of yet.

And the smile, the glint in his eye that made him different from all other John's?

It wasn't reduced. It wasn't hiding behind surprise, shock.

It was gone. Defeated.

I questioned him when he rejected me. The tears of happiness that had threatened to fall earlier, a thin film covering my eyes, now silently leaving me, gliding down past my cheeks, my lips.

I cant remember what I asked. What I begged,

My body reacted to the shock before my very eyes. My knees giving way, my body trembling.

He wouldn't listen to my explanantion.

He didn't want me back in his life.

He wished me… dead?

I left when he shouted that the visiting hours were over.

Sherlock walked past Mary, pushing her away as she shot a torrent of questions his way.

When he got home, he pulled out a pen and some paper, and sat down, the tears still falling, guiding their way across his sculpted face. Ready to write a letter.

A letter which he could never, ever produce in spoken words.

Because sentiment was 'far too below the Holmes brothers'

And he had to agree with Mycroft for once.

Caring really isn't an advantage.

Dear John,

Sometimes, we let affection go unspoken, unexpressed. I believe this is a privilege that I no longer have the rights to use.

I told you once, you might not remember, that we would always be F.I.N.E you may not recall what that means, but I do. I always will.

And I swore to myself that I would never lose you, not after experiencing what it was like to almost be forced to leave you myself.

After they classed me as in remission from cancer, I promised I would never lose you, whatever the consequence, but it seems I have accidently done just that.

My brain doesn't work properly without you, not any more. My heart beats more quickly without you, as if it's trying to catch up to yours. My soul is no longer in a single piece.

But I completely understand. Please believe me, and don't come to me for fear of guilt.

Mary is an incredibly beautiful woman, and I am so glad you are happy.

If you do not take anything positive from my being alive, please know now that I am still around, somewhere, and that I am so, so happy for you. And so you can now spend the rest of your days with your soul mate.

I wish every good blessing on you, and I'm so sorry we couldn't have spent longer together. Our years during college and Uni were the best of my life, and I will never forget them; only ever looking back at them with happiness for what I was allowed to experience.

And one day, I hope. I pray, that you will look back at those times, and think of the experiences we shared, the love we created, and the happiness that lived within us, and instead of regretting, being glad it was once there.

And even know, for me, at least

An eternity with you doesn't seem long enough, but it's a good place to start.

I'll love you with every fibre of my being, for the rest of my days,

Sherlock Holmes

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