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Life and death were not meant to meet. They were only to dance around each other, never to be in an embrace, never to touch; only to watch from afar and complete the story written. When the story does not go as planned, what are life and death to do but fall in love?
The fall hurt, every bone, every ligament, every muscle groaned in pain. Sherlock could barely even move. A weight dragged him down, something in his arms. This weight was not unwelcome, nor was burdening. It was comfortable, soft yet scary. His one true friend was held in his embrace as they broke the surface of the water.
He could see nothing, the world was dark and his head was pressed against Sherlock’s chest. He could feel nothing but the warm embrace of his so-called rival. He could hear nothing but the water surrounding them, the gasping breaths, the slow heartbeat. It was terrifying, but those arms were still wrapped around him as the water consumed them. Sherlock never let go.
It felt like Sherlock gasped for breath as he woke up, his body sore and breath ragged. He looked around the room, terrified and saw his Liam asleep on a bed across from him. Sherlock went to stand up, as he did so his legs gave out, sending him falling back on the bed. “At least we survived Liam. We’ll see this new world together,” A slight smile rested upon Sherlock’s face as he looked over to the unconscious man, “we’re here together, Liam.”
Sherlock met the boy named Billy who took care of them as they drifted on the ocean, following the currents to America. The boy was kind and helped Sherlock tend to Liam’s wounds. He’d tell Sherlock stories, and they’d play games but Sherlock still sulked, still longed for Liam to come to.
He was a root jutting out of a river, the water and the world around him changed as he was stuck, never moving. William was stuck in limbo, he couldn’t move, he couldn’t feel anything, but he could hear, his mind was active though his body was not. It was like an elongated sleep paralysis but his eyes could not open, they were locked doors with no key. His ears were the only part that worked, that collected information, useful information.
He heard a young boy from America talk to Sherly, the boy’s name was Billy. Would they always adopt children with the name of Bill? They were apparently on a ship, heading towards America. A new land, a new life. William was unsure of what was to come, he was terrified but Mr. Holmes- Sherlock would be with him so it would be okay. This would be okay. Liam kept telling himself that he wanted to believe it, to believe that this new opportunity would be better that he deserved this; but his mind was tired, and his fears, his pain only grew. No matter how many times Sherlock would sit at the side of the bed saying “I love you, Liam,” no matter how many times Sherlock caressed his face, he still believed he didn’t deserve this. He didn’t deserve Sherlock’s kind words, he didn’t deserve to be saved. He couldn’t atone for his sins by living, his life didn’t mean anything unless it was gone. That was his plan, that’s what he believed.
Some days, when his mind grew tired and he began to slip back into unconsciousness, William wished he wouldn’t wake up. He didn’t want to deal with his thoughts, or feelings. He didn’t want to battle the pain in his chest. He wanted his plan to be carried through, that was easier than handling his pain.
--
Sherlock sat beside the bed, for the umpteenth time this week. He grabbed Liam’s hand, as softly as he could. He never wanted to disturb him, even if he was in a coma. He never wanted to hurt him, and seeing Liam like this was terrifying. He never stirred or spoke, no movements or sign of life other than his breathing, but even that felt too subtle. He wanted something more, so he’d know without a doubt that Liam was alive. He didn’t want to lose him, not like this. His hand was placed softly on top of Liam’s and he moved his thumb to caress Liam’s hand, the caress was soft as soft and slow as a raindrop cascading on a window.
Sherlock smiled, a melancholy smile that was still filled with admiration and love for the man he was gazing at. “I miss you, Liam. I hope you wake up soon.” His voice broke as warm tears trickled down his face. “I love you,” he whispered, it was a whisper of the wind so quiet and subtle, it was barely heard by the person saying it. Sherlock said it again, “I love you,” still with the same tone of voice.
It became routine, where Sherlock would sit next to Liam and whisper sweet things. He knew Liam couldn’t hear him but he didn’t care. Billy told him it was meaningless, whispering those sweet nothings. Billy would never understand, his and Liam’s relationship was meaningful. Anything Sherlock did with him, said to him, it was as important as the sun is to the tree, providing nourishment and light. Those words, those whispers were small lights to Sherlock, little stars he’d place in the vast universe of their love; hoping that one day, his love would wake to a universe full of stars. He never stopped, and never wanted to stop, not until Liam woke up. He’d do it until Liam woke from his state, when he was fully conscious again.
The side of the bed moved as Sherlock placed his head next to his love, and he held Liam’s hand. “Please wake up. I miss you.” He pleaded and whispered his kind words. “I don’t want to let you go. Liam, please.” Sherlock’s voice broke more with every word, salty tears began to dampen the bed. Sherlock wanted- No he needed Liam to wake up. He couldn’t face this world without him. He needed to show Liam that the work he did was meaningful, that it was worth it; that he was worth it, that Liam was meaningful.
Seeing Liam like this, in this helpless state covered in bandages and scars, it was painful. He had gotten used to the look, but never fully. It still irked him, and scared him. Liam was fragile yet strong but in this state- he was like a dead fish on the ocean floor, currents turned and took him every which way, but he was none the wiser to where he was.
The words Sherlock would whisper scared Liam. He was being vulnerable, he was being raw and loving. William didn’t deserve that, he didn’t deserve what Sherlock would say to him, not after everything he’s done. The love Liam was getting was unwarranted, undeserved, but not unwanted. He loved hearing Sherlock’s voice, the way his voice fluctuated as he spoke, the way his voice turned from soft and tender to loud and boisterous. It was lovely to listen to. Sometimes, Liam wouldn’t hear Sherly’s voice but a soft song being played on a violin. He didn’t know how Sherlock had gotten a violin or when but the music was comforting. Sherlock often played before heading to bed, letting the music drift off before saying a small “goodnight.” It was lovely, the music and the words. Liam started to believe that Sherlock meant them, that he loved him. William was never sure if he loved Sherlock, but his words would tug at his heart and make it flutter. Liam couldn’t move away, but he never wanted to, not recently. The words, and the light Sherlock would bring into his dark reality was something Liam longed for. Sherlock was hope, hope to the new world, hope of society but now he was Liam’s hope, his hope of survival and his hope of love.
--
There was a whisper by William’s ear, soft and almost nonexistent. His breath shuttered slightly. He reacted, his body reacted to Sherlock. Liam felt so happy, but he still couldn’t move. His eyes wouldn’t open, his fingers wouldn’t wiggle, he was still stuck. There was hope, however small, his body reacted to Sherlock’s breath. That was important.
Sherlock whispered again, against Liam’s ear as he does almost every night. “I love you,” his voice was tender and he heard Liam’s breath catch, just slightly. Hope. There was hope, Liam was reacting to him, even if he was still unconscious.
A few days passed since Liam’s reaction, and nothing else had happened. No more reactions, just a breathing yet lifeless Liam. Sherlock returned to his seat next to Liam’s bed, he held his hand and watched as a finger twitched. A new light appeared on Sherlock’s face, Liam was coming back to life. He was elated, a cup overflowing with joy. Liam was coming to, he was reacting to what Sherlock did, he knew Sherlock was there! Sherlock’s large, lovely grin appeared on his face; it was the first time after the fall that he smiled like that. A bright, beautiful, glorious smile. He was happy, actually happy, his love was alive!
Liam continued to move little parts of his body, a finger tap, a twitch of his face, a shutter of breath, a pull at his lips. He was moving. Soon his eyes fluttered open and he could see. The light blinded him, forcing him to shut his eyes momentarily. He looked up and saw a tall raven haired man standing next to his bed with a large grin on his face. “Good morning Liam,” his voice was filled with joy, it almost made him laugh. “H- hello Sh- sher- Sh- Sherlock,” He managed to get out.
“You’re awake.” Small tears started to swell Sherlock’s dark blue eyes. He moved to hold Liam’s hand, “I can’t believe it. You’re awake!”
Sherlock never seemed like the type to cry. Quite frankly, he never was the type to but his Liam, the love, the light of his universe was back. He was alive and well, he was sitting in front of him with his eye open, and voice speaking. Liam took Sherlock’s hand that he had placed on the bed, interlocking their fingers before he pulled Sherlock into an embrace. “I’ve missed you too, Sherly.” Liam placed a small kiss on Sherlock’s cheek.
“You heard me?”
“I heard many things, the words, the whispers, the music. You were my light and my hope.” A small smile pulled at Liam’s lips.
“I’m so glad” Sherlock whispered, “I’m so glad.” He hugged Liam tighter, not wanting to let him go, not wanting to leave his side in fear of Liam falling back into a coma.
They fell asleep in each other’s arms that night and every night after, both afraid of losing the other. They stayed by each other’s side as much as they could, never wanting to part. They became the river and the land surrounding it, both filled with life and love and yet they complete each other, never to part or to be lost to the abyss; but always together, in tandem, in love, in life, in death.
Life and Death were not supposed to meet, and yet they did. They danced together under the moonlight, they kissed softly, so tenderly. They held each other close, closer than anyone before. Life and Death fell in love, rewriting the planned story, changing the script. They were infatuated with one another, curious of the mysteries they held. Their love was never ending, pure, unadulterated, and glorious. It was a love that could only be shared amongst the two most powerful forces- the forces of Life and Death.