Work Text:
He remembered the words he’d screamed at Sherlock after his return. Rage, love and relief had combined to make his voice crack with emotion. He had kept the promise he’d made then, but it was time to renew the vow.
John looked at the body in his bed, finally at peace. No more pain. The gasping lungs still at last. The pinched face relaxed in death. He gently pressed his lips to Sherlock’s, and tears filled his eyes. “Your lips are still warm,” he murmured. Then leaning closer, he whispered the words he’d shouted so long before: “I will follow you wherever you go from now on. I will never let you leave my side again."
Reaching over to fumble in the bedside cabinet drawer he took out the bottle of tablets and chugged the contents dry. Then he slid down beside Sherlock, taking the man into his arms and nuzzling into his neck. Sherlock was just sleeping, he told himself, as the drugs began to do their work. They both needed a bit of rest. That was all. Tomorrow the game would once again be afoot. There was plenty of time left. But a part of John knew that this time there would be no waking, so as he began to lose consciousness he whispered one final message: “Goodbye beloved.”