Before I Began To Grow

Chapter Eleven

Twenty minutes later, Lestrade stormed into the Gallery with his young, willing police men and women. In no time, Sebastian was in handcuffs and stuck in the back of a police car.

Sherlock stood outside in the freezing snow, his arms around the injured John. John rested his head against Sherlock's chest as they waited for the ambulance to arrive.

Lestrade ran about the crime scene, ordering officers about and trying not to feel the cold.

He felt a tap on his shoulder.

''Sir? I've found an unconscious man on the first floor.''

Lestrade turned around, rolling his eyes.

''Get him out. I'll have a word with Sherlock, the bloody fool.''

The young man nodded and started towards the gallery door again.

Lestrade's eyes raked over all the faces, looking for Sherlock. Once he found him, he was surprised to see the two in each other's arms. John spoke quiet words and Sherlock smiled softly in response.

Lestrade smiled to himself and decided to confront him tomorrow. He deserved to have these moments with John. It had been too long.

''J-Jesus, it's freezing.'' John muttered, his voice muffled from Sherlock's jacket.

''Want my coat?'' Sherlock asked, his teeth chattering.

John rolled his eyes. ''I thought you were smart.''

Sherlock let out a deep, short laugh. ''What happened to the days of shock blankets?''

John smiled at the memory. ''Who knows? Where's the bloody ambulance? I'm bleeding, here.''

Sherlock's expression changed to a worried one. ''You okay? Want to sit?''

John nodded and pulled away from Sherlock, but grabbed the detectives hand.

''Yeah, let's sit.'' 

Sherlock nodded and walked them over to the curb. He helped John sit down, and then sat himself beside John on the cold, hard ground. John leaned into Sherlock again.

''So...about this talking we have to do?''

Sherlock sighed and looked down at John, who was peeping up at him. ''We don't have to do this now, John. We can wait until you're better, if you want.''

John bit his lip. ''We can start now, though.''

Sherlock looked deep into John's eyes and nodded a moment later. ''Where do we start?''

John breathed in deeply and looked out around all the people fretting about the crime scene. ''I want you tell me truthfully...what happened to you after I left. After I moved to the country.''

Sherlock frowned. Even though he had been through much pain, even though it was John's fault...Sherlock didn't want to tell him. He didn't want John to feel guilty about anything. ''Oh, John...it was...different.''

John looked back up at Sherlock. ''Sherlock, come on. You're the one who said we needed to talk. Tell me what happened.''

Sherlock nodded and looked down at his shoes. ''Well...for a while I just wallowed in self pity. I wouldn't take cases. I wouldn't leave the flat...I just sort of...sat there. It was stupid of me, I know. I drank, I did some drugs.'' 

John winced and Sherlock gave him a sad smile. '' I know, it was a reckless thing to do. But...after about six months I decided I had had enough.''

John's eyes widened. ''What do you mean, Sherlock?''

Sherlock swallowed hard, a ghost of the pain in his chest coming to him. ''It means what you think it means, John.''

John held in his tears. He nodded to himself, trying to absorb this information. ''...H-how?''

Sherlock just shook his head and gripped John's hand. John raised his other hand to Sherlock's cheek, gently turning Sherlock's face so he could look at him. He gave him a gentle smile. ''What did you, Sherlock?''

''I...took a dangerous overdose...but, before anything could happen to me, Lestrade found me. He took me to the emergency room. I barely remember any of it...but, he really helped me get back on my feet. So...after that I threw myself into my work and decided to forget you, rather than only think about you.''

John couldn't reply. Sherlock looked down at him and smiled sadly. ''John?''

John nodded, his face struggling on an expression to settle on. Guilt? Regret? Sadness? He hung his head. '''I...I can't believe I did that to you.''

Sherlock felt sorry to see John so upset, but he couldn't deny that it was nice to hear that John was sorry. ''John...''

''Yes, Sherlock?'' John responded, his voice watery.

''I totally forgive you. And...it wasn't just you, okay? You can't pin everything on you. A lot of the time, I was sad...just because I had gotten used to being sad. It was like... I had forgotten how to see things positively. That wasn't you, John. That was me, and it was painful...but, not you.''

''But, I bloody well triggered it, didn't I?'' John sobbed, no longer holding in tears. 

Sherlock pulled John into a gentle hug. ''Oh, John. Everything that happened doesn't matter, not now that I have you. I finally feel happy again...and you triggered that, didn't you?''

John let out a small laugh. ''I did, I guess.'' He answered in a small voice.

Sherlock pulled back and looked into John's eyes. ''You okay?''

John nodded, biting his lip. Sherlock smiled and leaned into John's face. 

''Good.'' He whispered, before kissing John lightly on the lips.

John grinned up at Sherlock as his detective pulled away, his face an adorable shade of pink. ''Continue this later?''

Sherlock nodded as he heard the ambulance's sirens come nearer. He stood up and held out a hand for John to take. John got up and looked up at Sherlock, a little smile on his face. 

''You are more considerate...and, you're more open than before,'' John said, fidgeting with Sherlock's collar. ''But, you're still my Sherlock.''

Sherlock smiled widely and kept John's hand in his own as the ambulance pulled up.