YOU ARE THE REASON
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+imnot--involved
Sherlock shook his head, “I use it in chemically balanced amounts— I should know, I’ve had Billy measure it correctly. There are no dangers, as long as I use it sparingly.”
"John, please don’t be difficult. I just came here to warn you."
"Sparingly, right, that makes it so much better," John spat at him. "And if you didn't want me to be bloody difficult, you shouldn't have come in the first place. I was having a good day!"
John turned away from him.
+imnot--involved
"Yes John, that is exactly what I said I would do." He shook his head, a hand scratching at his upper arm without his due permission. "That is why I am telling you before I disappear again, since you seem to dislike when I do not alert you of things…"
He bristled at that last comment, “You may be a doctor, John, but as you said you are also a soldier— you cannot ’un-prescribe’ my drug usage as you please.”
"Oh, you're such an idiot," John said, affronted. He couldn't help but chuckle in disbelief. "No, you're right. I can't just make it go away. But like you said, I'm a doctor. I can certainly detox you off of whatever you're using. Do you know what that will do to your mind? You'll be a bloody vegetable by the time you're forty!"
John was angry now. That Sherlock should come to his and Mary's flat, and tell him he was going to relapse. If he wanted to kill himself that way, he shouldn't have told John about it.
"What, you expect me to just let you go?"
+imnot--involved
Sherlock frowned. He knew that his friend was going to pry, it was in his nature to be concerned for him. He shook his head, another wave of shivers going down his body, luckily hidden by his coat.
"I might relapse, so I might as well tell you that I may or may not be gone for another month." He spoke sharply and quickly, frowning as he did as such.
John laughed, his eyes widening. His arms stayed crossed over his chest as he looked at Sherlock incredulously.
"I'm sorry, that sounded a bit like you said you might relapse," he said flatly. "When I'm obviously never going to allow that to happen."
"You’re letting him down, Sherlock. John Watson is definitely in danger…"
I have died, and come back for you. Twice.
+imnot--involved
Sherlock began to scratch at his arm, the sensation of ants crawling over his skin unbearable. Usually he would ignore it, push past it, but at the moment he was distracted by it. He shook his head, ignoring the way he shook. “I am fine.”
John took a breath, almost said something, but then closed his mouth. He watched the way Sherlock moved. There had to have been a reason that he'd come to John and Mary's flat, and John suspected it had something to do with the antsy way that Sherlock acted.
"Alright," he said, crossing his arms over his chest. "Tell me what's going on."
He'd give Sherlock his own chance to tell the truth. And then John would drag it out of him.
+imnot--involved
"Good evening, John."
You alright?
+imnot--involved
imnot--involved started following you
Hey, Sherlock.
+4 Patients
"I’m looking for Sherlock?"
Oh, well he still lives at Baker Street, we aren't flatmates anymore.
I don’t particularly enjoy being that close to death, either.
Forgiven me? Perhaps you might want to get over your bloody anger, then. It’s been six… argh.
You're fine, keep hold of me.
And yes, Sherlock, I know how long it's been. I might be angry for the next six bloody years. You can't put a cork on betrayal, you know.
Oh? I suppose you took gratification in seeing me shot, too.
Are you ever going to forgive me? Hm?
I got absolutely no pleasure in seeing you shot, Sherlock. Trust me on that, the less I see you that close the death, the better.
And yes. I told you I forgave you. Doesn't mean I'm not still bloody angry at you.
REBLOG THIS IF YOUR MUSE IS A CHARACTER FROM SHERLOCK AND WOULD LIKE TO FIND MORE ROLEPLAYERS FROM YOUR FANDOM!
Help. SH Please. SH
[Text] Sherlock?
[Text] What’s wrong?
"Cold." He mumbled keeping his eyes closed he tried to ignore the pain to think of John to go to his happy place. It was hard when so much was occurring in his mind.
"Oi," John said, reaching up with a hand and taking Sherlock's chin and shaking him. He acted more calm than he felt. "Ambulance is on it's way. You're alright. No vitals hit. Clean wound."
Help. SH Please. SH
[Text] Sherlock?
[Text] What’s wrong?
Sherlock laid outside the flat on his back with a bullet pierced in his stomach. He had lost a good deal amount of blood. John was faster than an ambulance, Sherlock did the maths. John 5 minutes, them 8.
The cab ride from the hospital wasn't long. He had texted Mary to tell her something was going on with Sherlock, and it probably meant he'd be home late. So John tucked his mobile into his pocket, and waited for the cab to stop at the corner.
John found Sherlock where he lay, and it took him two heartbeats to crouch next to him to staunch the flow of blood. He looked up into his friend's face.
"Sherlock," he said, his voice calm. "Tell me what happened."
John got his mobile out with bloody fingers to call an ambulance.
+2 New Patients
Oooh, I think you know how you can help me, John. You and that flat mate of yours have been quite the thorn in my side, you know?
Yeah, well, we have a certain knack for that.
What the hell do you want?
Help. SH Please. SH
[Text] Sherlock?
[Text] What’s wrong?
There’s blood everywhere. SH
[ Text ] Blood? Sherlock, what happened? Are you alright?
I need…SH
adefijwoeoijf. SH
[ Text ] I swear to God, Sherlock, if this is some kind of a bloody joke, I'm going to strangle you when I get there.
[ Text ] I'm leaving work now.
Help. SH Please. SH
[Text] Sherlock?
[Text] What’s wrong?
There’s blood everywhere. SH
[ Text ] Blood? Sherlock, what happened? Are you alright?
