Chapter Text
Baker Street. Now. SH
Why? Do you have a case? JW
No, I just want to speak with you. SH
Seriously? Can we not just text? JW
This is the first text of mine you have answered in two months SH
It hasn't been two months, has it? JW
Nice to know you missed me SH
Jesus, sorry, Sherlock. It's been a bit hectic. JW
So hectic you have had literally no time in the past two months to text me? That's 62 days. 1488 hours. Must be very hectic. SH
Oh, don't be like that, Sherlock. This hasn't been the easiest time for me and you know that. JW
Still pissed off with Mary, then? SH
Yeah, a bit JW
Can't say I was too happy about her shooting me, but she does love you SH
I know that JW
Good for you SH
Why are you texting me, Sherlock? JW
I told you. I wanted to speak to you SH
Yeah, but why? JW
Dear Lord, don't make me actually say it SH
Say what? JW
Fine SH I miss you SH
Oh. Okay. Well, I've been busy JW
Yeah, whatever SH
Do you want me to come over? JW
I did. Now I'm just pissed off. SH
With me? JW
With life SH
Sherlock, are you okay? JW
I don't believe I am, John SH
What's wrong? JW
I think it's overwhelming loneliness SH
Oh, Sherlock. I'm sorry. I'll come over now. JW
Don't strain yourself. Only come over if you actually want to. SH
I do want to JW
Fine SH
See you soon JW
Yeah, yeah SH
John placed his phone on the kitchen table and sighed heavily. Sherlock didn't usually act this way. He hates most people, yet stills finds himself feeling lonely. John felt guilty and tired and sad. Since the truth about Mary came out...it just wasn't the same. She wasn't the sweet and innocent woman John had fallen in love with. Now, any time he thought back on their past, on their beginning...he just wondered how many times she had lied. He still loved Mary, or at least, he thought he did.
''Mary! I'm going to Sherlock's!'' John called out, pulling on his coat.
''Will you be long?'' She called from upstairs.
''No idea. He seems upset. See ya.'' John opened the front door.
''Tell him I said hello!''
John nodded to himself and stepped outside.
*
It took John just under an hour to reach Baker Street. He still had his key and he let himself in, smiling lightly at the familiar surroundings.
''Sherlock?'' he called, hanging up his coat.
''Upstairs!'' Came a faint reply.
John hopped up the stairs and into the sitting room. Sherlock turned around from the window and John froze.
Thin. He was so thin. Pale. Tired. But, incredibly thin. His shirt which once strained across his chest, hung loosely around his torso now. His cheek bones protruded from his face. He almost looked skeletal.
Sherlock raised an eyebrow. ''Something on my face?''
''Sher...'' John breathed, feeling as if the air had been knocked from him. He took a step forward. ''When was the last time you ate?''
Sherlock frowned a little. ''Well...this morning, actually.''
John took another step forward. ''Okay, let me rephrase that. When was the last time you ate something substantial?''
''Ah,'' Sherlock nodded his understanding of the question, brushing past John into the kitchen.
''Sherlock?'' John said sternly. ''Tell me.''
Sherlock flicked on his kettle and took out two mugs. '' 'Bout a week ago, I don't know...''
''A week?'' John nearly shouted, eyes widening. ''Are you trying to kill yourself?!''
''Not exactly.'' Sherlock murmured, looking back at John.
John felt his mouth go dry and he could hear the rush of blood in his ears. Oh. He wasn't breathing. He took in a breath and swallowed hard. ''What do you mean?''
Sherlock gave John a pitying, sad smile. ''Lately, the whole idea of 'living' hasn't been that desirable to me.''
John bit his lip. ''Why would you say that?''
Sherlock sighed and turned away to continue making tea. ''Because it's true. I'm lonely and unhappy and I feel conflicted. It's crazy. It's interfering too much with my work. I've no developments on Moriarty. I'm pretty damn useless, so why bother?''
''No,'' John managed to choke out in a small voice. Sherlock turned back to him, hearing the distress in his friend's voice.
''John...''
''No, Sherlock. You cannot make me go through that again.''
Sherlock looked down to John for a long moment. He'd completely crawled into his own mind for the last two months. He only spoke if it was necessary. He barely listened to anyone. He had forgotten about the one person who cared for him the most.
''No...'' Sherlock answered a little dumbly. ''No, I wont make you do that again.''
''Then stop this self destruction, Sherlock!'' John cried, throwing his hands up in the air. ''For someone so smart, you're the biggest idiot I know!''
Sherlock sighed. ''John, I'm sorry. I just got a little lost.''
John let out a long breath, pinching the bridge of his nose. ''You have no idea how infuriating you are, do you?''
''Look, John! I said I was sorry!''
''YOU WERE TRYING TO KILL YOURSELF!'' John shouted. Sherlock grimaced and looked down. ''What else have you done to yourself, Sherlock?'' John asked, stepping right up to him.
Sherlock shook his head almost childishly. '' I don't know what you're talking about.''
''Don't play games with me.'' John growled. ''What have you done?''
''Well, what do you suspect?!'' Sherlock shouted. ''All the usual things someone who's suicidal would do!''
''Oh, Sherlock.'' John said in a much softer tone. ''Sherlock, I'm so sorry.''
Sherlock bit his lip and nodded, fending off tears.
''Do you want me to take a look, seeing as I'm a doctor?''
Sherlock shook his head and felt tears spill over onto his cheeks. He hadn't cried in all those two months. He had been numb.
John quickly pulled Sherlock into a strong hug. ''I'm sorry I haven't been here for you. Do you want me to stay over tonight?''
''Yes, please.'' Sherlock answered, sniffling, then laughing at himself. ''My God, John. What has happened to me?''
''You're changing.'' John said simply. ''That's not a bad thing. It can be frightening, but it's just what happens. People change.''
''I was quite content with the way I was before. Suddenly, I care so much. It's ghastly.''
John smiled lightly and pulled out of their embrace. ''Caring isn't so bad, now, is it?''
''I hate it.'' Sherlock said, wiping the tears away from under his eyes. ''Because if you care about someone, you love them, right?''
John nodded slowly, biting his lip. ''Yeah, but there's all sorts of love.''
''I've noticed,'' Sherlock muttered. ''As if it wasn't complicated enough, you've got the whole ''family love'', then you love your friends and then...don't get me started about the whole ''being in love'' thing. It's pretty horrible when they don't return the feeling.''
John raised an eyebrow. ''What? Are you telling me that you've been in love?''
Sherlock sighed and went back to his and John's tea. '' I am in love.''
John smiled a little. ''Who is it? Are you going out?''
Sherlock laughed in response and shook his head, finally handing John his tea. ''Who'd want me as a boyfriend?''
''Janine did.'' John took a sip of his tea.
''Oh. Her.'' Sherlock smiled a little. ''Neither of us really liked each other that much.''
''Ohhh...So, you never...?''
Sherlock raised an eyebrow. ''Never what?''
''You know...'' he motioned to the bedroom.
''Ah...nope.'' Sherlock said, wrapping his fingers around the mug. ''Dear God, no.''
John laughed. ''You haven't changed in some aspects, Sherlock.''
Sherlock shrugged. ''Changed nonetheless.''
''So, who do you love?''
''Doesn't matter. They're taken.'' Sherlock mumbled.
''Oh, that's rough.'' John said sympathetically. ''Do you think there's a chance they'll break up?''
''For a little while, I thought so...Now, no. No. They're happy and I suppose that's what matters.''
John was a little taken aback by the sincerity of Sherlock's voice. ''Man or woman?''
''Uh...man.'' Sherlock said, gulping down the rest of his tea.
''Do I know him?''
Sherlock pursed his lips, wondering how to answer. ''Not as well as I do.'' Sherlock decided to respond with.
''You're never going to tell me who it is, are you?''
''Absolutely never.''
John frowned. ''But, you've gotten me all curious!''
''Curiosity killed the cat, John.''
''Come on! I'm your friend! You're supposed to tell me this stuff!''
''Not when I don't think you'll approve.''
''If I could accept you being married to your work, then I can certainly handle you being in love with a man.''
''It's nothing to do with it being a man, it's the who, John.''
''Lestrade?''
''No, John...''
''Mike?''
''God, no.''
''Is it...Anderson?''
'' God no!''
''Who else is there?''
''It's pretty obvious, but I'd prefer if you didn't go prying, John!'' Sherlock fretted.
''Hmmm, Oh, I bet it's-'' John stilled.
''John? John, what is it?'' Sherlock asked hurriedly, his stomach in knots.
John just looked up at Sherlock with wide eyes. ''Oh, God.''