Cancer- A BBC Sherlock Fanfiction

Cancer

Hello!
This is the first fanfiction I've liked enough to post online, so comments are much appreciated. This is a oneshot songfic to Cancer by My Chemical Romance. Thankyou so much for reading and I hope you enjoy!

Beep...Beep...Beep...

The great consulting detective, Sherlock Holmes, lay helpless in a sterile white bed, hooked up to countless machines and monitors. His best friend, John Watson, sat in a plush armchair covered in a white sheet next to him, staring down at Sherlock.

Turn away
If you could get me a drink
Of water 'cause my lips are chapped and faded...

Sherlock twitched and raised his hand to his lips, a crude parody of sign language. Water. John responded immediately, springing from his seat and limping over to the tap. His left hand shook as he filled a cup, spilling a little on the floor. He brought the cup back over to Sherlock and held it to the other man's lips. Sherlock swallowed, then choked. He coughed into his hand, covering it with blood. John stared for a moment, what was going on, as Sherlock continued choking, then slammed the emergency buzzer.
"Shelock, Sherlock, stay with me mate..."

Call my Aunt Marie
Help her gather all my things
And bury me in all my favourite colours
My sisters and my brothers, still...

Nurses and Doctors flooded the room, forcing John out of the room and into the hallway, where he couldn't even see Sherlock. He made a few calls, only able to dial with his right hand. Sherlock's parents, Mycroft, Mrs Hudson and Greg.
"Lestrade speaking."
"Greg, it's John. I... I think it's time."
Lestrade swore softly.
"I'm coming right now John. Hold on."
John hung up, not trusting his voice any longer.

I will not kiss you
'Cause the hardest part of this
Is leaving you...

By the time the Doctors and Nurses had left, everyone was gathered in the hall. Noone said a word. John glared at the wall, forcing himself to breathe. In, out, in, out. Soon, a nurse walked up to the silent group.
"You're here for Mr Holmes?"
They all looked at her, and Sherlock's father nodded.
"How is he?"
The nurse gave them a sympathetic glance. No, John thought.
"I'm sorry, he doesn't have long. You can all go in and say goodbye."
John looked up towards the ceiling, blinking hard to stop the tears. Clenching his fists in an effort to block the overwhelming waves of emotion that threatened to shut his brain down, he marched, soldier-like, into the room.

Now turn away
'Cause I'm awful just to see
'Cause all my hair's abandoned all my body...

Sherlock lay peacefully in the bed, his perfect raven curls long abandoned to the treatments that had sharpened his cheekbones and dulled his eyes. Those eyes were open, but only just, staring into the far wall. Seeing his untouchable detective like this still broke John's heart, even after all these long painful months of doctors, hospitals and diagnoses.

All my agony
Know that I will never marry
Baby I'm just soggy from the chemo
But counting down the days to go...

John knew there wasn't long left; you didn't have to be a Holmes to notice that Sherlock's breathing was shallow and laboured. When John took his icy hand, he barely had the strength to squeeze back.

It just ain't living
And I just hope you know...

"Jo-hn" Sherlock mumbled.
"Sherlock, shut up. Don't... Don't waste this on me."
With a huge amount of effort, Sherlock turned his head to John. John watched as a single tear rolled down the face of the man who had never displayed his emotions, had never let anyone in. And it broke his heart a little more.

And if you say goodbye today
I'd ask you to be true

Sherlock's eyelids began to droop slowly, and John's stomach seemed to sink lower with each miniscule drop. He knew Sherlock wasn't in any pain, Mycroft had ensured that his baby brother would receive only the best care, but he was so scared for him. No-one could protect him in whatever comes after this life. Mycroft's governmental positions couldn't save him. John couldn't follow him. What if Moriarty was there? John didn't even notice as hot tears began to flood down his face.

'Cause the hardest part of this
Is leaving you...

He looked into Sherlocks almost-shut eyes one last time as the detective spoke again.
"John... I... Thankyou."
John forgot to breathe as Sherlock Holmes' head fell back on the pillow and his eyes finally closed.
John didn't hear the beeeeeeeep as the heart monitor flatlined. He didn't hear Mrs Hudson's sobs, which echoed throughout the ward. He didn't see Mrs Holmes collapse into her husband's arms, or Mycroft hang his head and grip his umbrella so tightly his knuckles turned white, or Lestrade wipe his eyes hurriedly. All John saw was his best friend lying cold, still and peaceful in front of him. And as his legs gave out, his vision blackened and the floor rushed up towards him, he heard only one thing.
"Thankyou."

'Cause the hardest part of this
Is leaving you.