The Lovely Holmes

Chapter 2

POV Sherlock

I wasn't sure why it affected me so much.

But it did.

Maybe it wasn't so much that it was my name but more that every time John said it he was filled with a sense of longing.

John longed for me, he wanted me and not just for me to be alive.

But for me.

My touch.

To hear my voice.

At some point the pain grew unbearable so John got up off the floor and moved to the kitchen.

I watched as he rummaged through the cabinets until he found what he had been looking for; scotch.

John didn't even bother with a cup, he just opened the bottle and began to drink.

But it didn't have the effect on him that he wanted, if anything it made him feel even worse then he already did.

If that was possible.

John set down the scotch, which was almost half empty, and rummaged through a drawer until he found the object that he believed would end his pain.

John took the knife in his right hand and dragged it across his left wrist. My hand flew to my wrist, I could have sworn that he had cut me to.

Again and again he did this until his arm and the floor were covered in blood. Sobbing John let the knife drop from his hands and fall to the floor. He then sank to his knees and continued to wail for several hours.

I looked away, I couldn't bare it. John, my John would never do such a thing. I was on the verge of tears when Charlotte came up behind me and took my hand.

Pulling me up she led me to where I would be "living."

The layout was exactly like John's flat. The only exception being that all my equipment was outside.

I walked into the flat and was vaguely aware of me going to my room. I wasn't really thinking about what I was doing, I was more concerned with other things.

John.

I went to my mind palace, thank god that still existed!

My mind palace was basically a room with 5 doors, each had a sign on it.

Door 1- People. Inside were things like behavior, emotions and feelings.

Door 2- Places. Inside were maps, facts and pictures.

Door 3- History. Inside were all relevant things that had ever happened in the past, whether it was scientific, historical or personal.

Door 4- Logic. This was common sense.

Door 5- John. My most treasured door, and most frequently used. Everything I ever knew about John was contained here.

I went inside and sat on the floor. Surrounding me were pictures of all the moments I had ever spent with him, all the times I had ignored him and the moments I had just seen.This is what I was looking for.

I replayed it over and over again in my head, I would watch him cry out in pain see him fall to the floor and listen to him wail. His voice echoed around my head, I could hear him when I finally fell asleep.

I woke up to the smell of tea being made, and for a moment thought he was still alive. But this thought was stopped in it's tracks when I walked in on Charlotte making tea.

I took the cup and went outside, not even bothering with the equipment, I went straight to the hole. I looked for John and found him, in a hospital.

Mrs. Hudson had walked in on a bloody John and called Greg. Thank God for Mrs. Hudson!

John was laying on the white bed, his arm wrapped in bandages. He was heavily sedated and being watched, suicide watch.

The nurse that went to check on him was Molly, good old Molly. If anyone could help John it would be Molly.

Molly stuck John with something that made him wake up, instantly. It hurt like hell! But John didn't care.

Molly whispered something in John's ear.

"Sherlock is dead, I'm sorry but before he died he told me that if he died that he died for you. He was trying to save you. You would have been killed had he not jumped." And with that Molly sedated John again and left.

John may have been sedated but that didn't mean that the nightmares had stopped. If anything they were worse because the drugs were messing with his perception. He tried to scream, to make them stop but the drugs kept him under.

Now the thought that I had killed myself because of John was being twisted into his dreams. He kept picturing himself pushing me off the building until he thought he was reliving a memory. Now John felt guilt in a whole new sense.

I sat there wanting desperately to help but feeling trapped. My tea had gone cold in my hands as I continued to watch.

John was finally coming around. The guard in the hall saw this and went to go get Greg.

Greg walked into the room with a sad look on his face, never had he considered my death to impact a person so harshly.

John was mumbling something to himself. I don't even think he knew what he was saying.

"John, Mrs. Hudson found you. You are at St. Bart's and you are going to be placed in the psych ward until further notice. Everyday you will be required to talk to a therapist and I hear that they will also give you a journal to keep track of things in. I'm sorry but they are going to cut you off from visitors as soon as I leave so I came to say good bye." Greg then left the room and John became more aware of his surroundings as the drugs wore off.

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(A/N all chapters will be from Sherlock's POV unless I say otherwise)