Tortured

Two years ago, Sherlock Holmes faced Moriarty on the rooftop of Barts Hospital which resulted in both of their deaths. Or so everyone thought. Sherlock and Moriarty were in a heated conversation when Moriarty pulled a gun out and stuck it in his mouth. To Sherlock's surprise, he pulled the trigger and sent his incredible mind spewing all over the roof. Unfortunately, his death meant that there was no way to call off the snipers that were aiming at his friends, ready to shoot at the drop of a hat. He had to jump. He didn't have a choice. So he did.

. . .

John's cheeks were flushed and hot, his forehead crinkled, and his hands in fists so tight that his hands were turning white. He took slow deep breaths, looked up at the man before him, and lunged.

. . .

"You were dead." His voice was so low Sherlock had to strain to hear.

"No, I merely made you and the rest of the world believe I was dead."

"Now is not the time for wisecracks, Sherlock." Mary snorted behind him and turned white when John's pain-filled eyes landed on her.

"Mary, can you give us a couple of minutes?"

"Yeah, y-yes of course." She slid off to the side and disappeared out of sight, anxious to leave the two men alone.

"John, I-"

"No. Don't." John turned around and covered his face with his hands.

"John, listen to me." Sherlock was terrified that he had hurt his friend too much but this was John Watson. He knew he would get his friend back if it was the last thing he'd do.

"No! No, I will not listen to you, Sherlock! You were dead! You left me!" his bellows echoed off the buildings surrounding them. "You have no idea what I went through when you died, Sherlock!"

"And you don't know what I went through! You don't know the lengths I had to go to to make sure Moriarty's network was gone!"

"What happened to you then?"

Sherlock didn't respond.

"Well? I'm waiting to hear how you had it so much worse than me. My best friend died! My best friend betrayed me!"

"I was tortured, John." His voice was barely above a whisper, his eyes scouring the ground below them.

"You were what?"

"Tortured!" His face snapped up to meet John's shock. "I was tortured for two years trying to get through and disable his web of monsters." He spat. "I am covered, from head to toe, in scars and wounds. Just so you could live. So you, Mrs. Hudson, Greg, Molly, Mycroft could live. So everyone would live."

John couldn't speak.

"I put myself there so I could save all of you. I faked my death so his people would think I was dead. So you wouldn't follow me."

"I had no idea, Sherlock. Why didn't you tell me? I could've helped you!"

"Your life is worth far too much to risk. I couldn't tell you. I couldn't let you know what was happening otherwise you would've been a target again. Because of me."

"Sherlock," John's voice cracked.

"What?"

"How could you have done that? You laid your life on the line for us. For me. My life isn't worth that."

"I will protect you with my life. I will always protect you with my life. Believe what you want but your stupid little existence means just that."

"Sherlock, I don't know what to say." John played with his thumbs with his head down, ashamed for yelling at the man who saved his life multiple times.

"Well for starters you could say thank you."

John scoffed, "Thank you, Sherlock."

"Well, you're welcome."

"So you're back now?"
"Yes, of course. I made sure Moriarty's network was no more before coming back."

"How can I know that you won't leave again?"

"You can't."