The Return Of Blood (Johnlock fanfic)

Chapter One

JOHNS POV

"Goodbye, John." Sherlock said.

This wasn't happening. Sherlock couldnt die. Not again.

"SHERLOCK!" I screamed in disbelief. On top of the building, Sherlock leaned forward and fell towards the ground. Almost like an angel, I thought. But angels didn't hit the ground with a crunch. I ran over for the thousandth time. I could see Sherlock. His face was dripping with blood onto the concrete. His perfect body crumpled lifelessly on the unwelcoming concrete. He was pale. Unmoving. Dead.

I woke with a start, screaming. I'd hoped these nightmares would go away. But they didnt. "Sh-Sherlock!" I called. I heard footsteps up to my room. The lights flicked on and Sherlock stood in the doorway. He was wearing gray sweatpants and a black, baggy t shirt.

"Another nightmare, John?" he said, sounding bored and a bit annoyed.

I nodded sadly. I wished for more than anything for him to come over and comfort me. Instead he let out a sigh. "John, you've known that I faked my death for how long now? A month? Get over it. Im not dead. Why do you people.....care...so much? See why its a disadvantage?"

I wanted to get angry. I wanted to yell about him for leaving me to believe he was dead for three years. But I didn't want him to know i was depressed while he was gone.

*FLASHBACK*

Sherlock: So what did you do while I was gone?

Me: Worked at the medical center down the street. (Lies. I couldn't take a job. I was too depressed. I didn't leave my bed for months. Then for the next two years I hardly left the flat.)

Sherlock: That's good. How did Mrs. Hudson do emotionally?

Me: She was sad for a plenty time. But I took care of her, and life returned to normal after about a month. (You're still lying Watson. Mrs. Hudson took care of me. She fed me and took care of me when I didn't even get out of bed. Harry paid for my rent and for Mrs.Hudson taking care of me.)

Sherlock: Good. And...and uh how did you handle it emotionally?

John: The first few months, I was really sad. But i moved on. Made my way with minior saddness and just nightmares on occasions. (Thats not true either. I was a total wreck after he left. I cried everyday for the first year. I cut myself at the start. I thought about suicide almost everyday. I tried to commit suicide twice, both failed. But I don't want to seem weak to Sherlock.)

Sherlock: That's the strong soilder I know.

John: (I'm not strong, Sherlock. I'm weak) And what about you, Sherlock? How did you do emotionally, not being able to contact anyone for years?

Sherlock: Easy. I never felt the need to have human contact. It was quite peaceful, actually. Only me and my genius brain.

John: (I guess he doesn't care about me after all.)

*END OF FLASHBACK*

"I'm fine. Im sure this was the last one." I spoke quietly.

"You said that yesterday. And the day before that. And the day before that. And the WEEK before that." Sherlock mumbled, walking back to his room.

I sat up and peeled my blanket off letting the freezing air wash over me. I sat on the edge of the bed and let my feet graze the groud lightly. I sat staring at the wall for a minute to collect my thoughts.

When Sherlock "died", i realized that I loved him. I couldn't help it. I would lay in bed thinking about what would happen if he was alive, if i had told him I loved him. I would imagine perfect situations of him and I together, of him loving me back. But i also saw the reality, the fact he didn't love me. Instead of loving me, He would slap me. Leave me. Never come back. I thought that it wouldn't matter. He was dead for all i knew, i would never have to worry about my feelings, just succumb to fate and let my mind posion my heart and push me bellow rock bottom. But now he was alive. I don't know how long it will be until he realizes that I was infatuated with this consulting detective.

Or maybe he already knows.

Oh god

What if he already knows?

He can deduce someone life story by looking at them. He could figure out who was cheating with who, who thought what, all just by looking at them. Well what did he see in me? Did he already know? Well he hasn't left so thats a good thing. But what if he's planning to leave? or what if he hates me and is hiding it? he hides everything already.

"What's wrong?"

I snapped my head around to see Sherlock leaning in the doorway with his arms acrossed and a blank look on his face.

"Sorry, what?" I asked, confused.

"You're hyperventilating. I could hear you from my room."

I hadn't realized that I was but when he said it, i realized I was holding my breath now.

"Oh." I gasped. "Just trying some uh breathing exercises. good for the lungs." Wow John. Great lie. Totally convincing.

Sherlock raised an eyebrow, but didn't question it. "Just breathe a bit quiter. I'm trying to get to sleep."

I nodded and he left.

I made my way downstairs to make some tea. I flicked the lights on and blinked groggily as the white light pierced through the darkness. As my blindness slowly faded, i shuffled into the kitchen to make some tea. Before i started boiling the water, i noticed a puff of steam and a bit of heat in the ice block of a kitchen. I turned to see a hot cup of tea, sitting silently and patiently on the counter. I frowned. I didn't make any tea last night. and this tea was hot, made within the last hour.

I shrugged and sipped it. Not bad. I sat on the couch deciding the mystical tea wasn't worth pondering. I thought about sherlock. That was all i thought about. but i couldnt help it. Slowly i fell asleep on the couch, tea still in hand.

I was back at the hospital watching Sherlock fall through the air again.

DID YOU LIKE ITTTT??? :3 I've got a really good idea for this so stay tuned! Most people don't read the authors note anyway so I could stay pretty much anything here and most people would have no idea what im saying. Banana peel up your butt. Sherlock is secretly a magical fairy that eats children and sets fires to feel joy. COMMENT IF YOU WANT MORE! THANK YOU!

KK BYE

<3 Leigh Marie