The Post-it Predicament (a Sherlockxreader fan fiction)

Eight- Medicine

A//N: Well hellllo there reader-chan. Long time no...story? No jk it's only been the weekend but it feels like ages!! OH WELL. But yeah this might get a little deep. I think I might just go ahead and say possible trigger warning just to be safe. ANYWHO ON WITH THE STORY (again sorry it gets a bit heavy)

Your POV

"It was very nice finally getting to meet you all," you said handing Willow back to Mary. You really couldn't focus on anything else. Sherlock just left. You didn't know too much about him or his demons but you felt worried. He seemed upset. 

"Oh you too. Tell you what, you and Sherlock will have to come from dinner sometime. YOu both are so thin."

"I'll be sure to relay the message." 

"See you soon, (f/n)," John said with a smile. 

You felt happy being accepted by these people. Like you were part of the family. 

You walked a bit too swiftly out of the hospital, almost running into a man on the way. He looked kind of familiar but you didn't take anytime to notice. 

You hailed a cab. 

"Look, here's the deal, Sebastian," You said looking at his name tag in the window. "221 Baker Street, and I will pay you double if you break the speed limit."

It didn't take much convincing for the cab driver as he pulled away from the hospital, going so fast it knocked you back in your seat, causing you to clutch the door for support. 

Within no time you were at your location. You handed him some cash and hurriedly got out of the cab, knowing it wasn't double and was barley even the normal fare. 

You walked into the building, only one thing on your mind. 

There was no violin playing. 

There was no television on.

Mrs. Hudson was visiting family in Florida, so there was no noise coming from her way. 

He's probably just thinking again, (F/n) don't stress. What are you scared of? what do you think he did, killed himself......again? He was so spacey when he held Willow. You figured it was difficult from him to see John and Mary happy  without him in there lives. He had  mentioned that they didn't come around often anymore.  

You rushed up the stairs skipping two at a time. 

"Sherlock?!" You yelled, bursting through the door. 

The lights were off. A cold breeze filled the room chilling your bones and making you want to turn back. 

"Sh-Sherlock?!?!" You yelled again. 

No answer. 

You ran all around the flat searching for him. The only other place you hadn't looked was in his bedroom. 

You knocked once. Then twice. You tried the door knob. It was locked. You cursed to yourself.

You in the end resulted to kicking the door in. 

Once you got into the room, it seemed as if it got colder. There were socks scattered all around the floor and the top drawer was wide open. 

Laying on the bed was Sherlock, on his back, a pleased smile plastered on his face. His lips and fingernails were blue. You took his pulse, but you couldn't feel anything. Laying next to him, were three empty bottles and an empty syringe. 

"no no no no no.' You fished around in his pocket until you found his phone. Your hands shook as they dialed the numbers, 999. 

***