Johnlock OneShots!

It's My Fault

hello there! I am so sorry about being not active, I've just had like- no ideas but yknow- enjoy!

Sherlocks POV

Darkness.

That's all I could see.

My head wasn't busy with thoughts as it usually was. I used to constantly be deducing. Solving...Thinking.

But now...nothing.

The last thing I remember was Mycroft looking at me rather strangely, then nothing.

No ones POV

A door slowly creaked open and quiet footsteps, accompanied by a cane could be heard.

Sherlock was in a plain, white, almost box sized room, with a small window to the left of his bed and various machines to his right. He was in a hospital. The footsteps belonged to his older, and slightly more grumpy brother, Mycroft.

Sherlocks POV

I may not be able to see or speak but I could hear. And those footsteps belonged to my brother, Mycroft.

The footsteps rhythmic pace faltered, then came to a halt. I heard Mycroft move a chair and sit down. His breath was unsteady so he took 3 deep breaths to try even it back out.

I was honestly wondering why he was heat before he whispered,

No ones POV

"I'm so sorry Sherlock, it's my fault you ended up like this..." Mycroft whispered. He knew it was his fault, and there was no point in arguing against it.

When the brothers were younger, Mycroft accidentally knocked some of his fathers drugs onto the floor. This allowed Sherlock to pick them up and consume them when he was just a child. It may not have been a lot, but it was enough for him to crave more.

"Sherlock, I'm sorry. I was naive and stupid, I never intended to cause you this much harm. And now look at you...you're in a coma and god knows if you'll pull through."

Sherlock was hearing all of his older brothers confession and honestly he found it hilarious yet oddly heart warming. His brother actually cared.

Sherlocks POV

I could hear Mycrofts voice shake throughout his confession. He was crying. I knew he was. I wished I was able to comfort him in any way I could. Even just by moving a finger. I wanted to tell him that he wasn't at fault. But I knew I wasn't getting any better, as a matter of fact, I was getting worse.

My brothers words suddenly stopped. I heard him rummage through his bag and pull out what sounded like a book. I listened as he opened it and skimmed through the pages until he found the right one. Then he began reading aloud.

It was one of my favourite books as a child, I recognised it from the first line. It was at this point I realised what he was doing. What he knew.

He knew I wasn't going to pull through this time and  he knew I could hear him.

The words were beginning to sound muddled now. It began getting harder to listen to my brothers voice. I tried so hard to hold on, I really did. But...

I couldn't.

Mycrofts POV

I continued reading and grew slightly louder as I heard Sherlock flatline. As I reached the last page, I closed the book, placed it in sherlocks hand and starred at him. I was looking for a miracle. Some sign that he may have survived but... he was truly gone

I allowed tears to begin streaming down my face as my younger brothers heart monitor made one continuous note. The note of death.

Suddenly I heard footsteps. These weren't like the nurses walking up and down the hallways. These were fast and panicked.

John.

As soon as I realised it was him the doors flew open. He looked at me, then at Sherlock, then back at me. I shook my head slowly, tears still spilling from my face but no noise leaving my mouth.

John knew.

He fell to the floor and sobbed.

We remained like this for hours.

I'm sorry Sherlock.

I'm sorry John.