The Best Man

He's Hurt

Banging. Banging. Banging. 

Sherlock lifted his heavy head from the couch seat and groaned at the knocks coming from the sitting room's locked door. 

''What is it?'' Came his drunken drawl, as he sat himself up, shaking his head a little to wake himself up.

''Sherlock! It's Mary!'' 

Sherlock felt a flurry of panic as he remembered what had happened. Why on earth was Mary here? Where was John, if he wasn't with Mary? Where was John? Sherlock stood up, stopping a moment to clear his head. ''Mary, what are you doing here?''

''Sherlock! It's John! He's-He's hurt!''

Sherlock felt a brutal wave of panic rise up through him and he fell at the door and fumbled with the lock, eventually wrenching the door open. He looked down at Mary. She had been crying. 

''What do you mean? Why would he be hurt?''

She gave Sherlock a miserable stare. ''On the way back from your house...I don't know...was he drinking here?''

Sherlock shook his head quickly, and started to understand what had happened. ''Car crash.''

Mary nodded, biting her lip and running a hand through her short hair. ''Was he upset or something? Did yous fight? It's not like John to drink-drive.''

Sherlock almost felt as if someone had stabbed him in the chest. It was all his fault. He shook his head softly. Mary could never know. His lips felt heavy and his tongue took too much effort to move, but he needed to know more. 

''Mary, how badly hurt is he? Will he be alright?''

''I..I don't know! I came to you first!''

Sherlock gaped at her. ''You could've called me over the phone! John's in hospital? John's in hospital and he's been in a car crash and you're not with him?!''

She blinked at him for a moment and tears formed in her eyes. ''I-I didn't think! I was scared! I wanted to know if anything had happened! I thought I was being clever.''

Sherlock let out a noise of dissatisfaction, then made way for his room. ''Call a cab! I'll be with you in a moment!''

Sherlock saw her nod and lean against the wall, taking out her phone. He fell against his door as he shut it behind him. ''Shit, shit,shit.'' he whispered to himself, his body feeling cold as it started to shake. He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to block out the spinning of his head or the feeling of nausea in his stomach. ''John.'' he breathed quietly, trying to get himself to move. ''You need to help John.''

Sherlock pulled himself up and quickly stripped off his alcohol-stained clothes. He threw on a clean suit and walked to his mirror. He looked a fright. Pale. Bags under his eyes. His hair stuck up and his bones stuck out unattractively. He sighed and ruffled his hair, trying to make it look better somehow. His eyes were red as he tried to hold in tears. ''You need to help John.'' he whispered to his reflection, voice breaking on John's name. He cleared his throat and walked out to Mary. ''Alright, then?'' he said to her. She nodded and they both started down the stairs. 

They got into a cab and sat together in a heavy silence. Sherlock could sense her looking at him and he turned his head away from the window to look back at her. ''I know how I look.''

She frowned at him and bit her lip, like she was hesitating to say something. ''John said you were upset.''

Sherlock shook his head and looked back out the window. ''Forget it, Mary.''

She placed a hand over Sherlock's on the seat and swallowed hard. ''Sherlock...'' she said softly. 

Sherlock pulled his hand away and used it to run through his hair. ''It is nothing that concerns you.''

She cocked her head to the side, looking at him. ''Sherlock,'' she whispered in a sad voice. ''I know.''

Sherlock snapped his head to look at her, his heart jumping into his mouth. ''Know what? There's nothing to know.''

She sighed heavily and sat back in her seat. ''I know you mean no harm, and I know you wont do anything, but I do know.''

Sherlock swallowed and licked his lips. There was no point in hiding it from Mary. She was smart, but she didn't need to know that John knew now too of his feelings. That would change too much. ''You're right. I wont do anything.''

She nodded, her face grim as she stared out the window. ''You didn't see him, Sherlock. When you were away. He needed to move on. He needed me.'' She looked back to Sherlock. ''And I was there to comfort him.''

Sherlock felt his mouth go dry and that horrible feeling of guilt and hurt build up inside his chest until it was almost unbearable. He cleared his throat. ''I know that.'' he said quietly. ''And, I've never gotten to say thanks. Thank you for picking up the pieces I left behind.''

She nodded at Sherlock, wearing that sad smile again. ''What else was I going to do? Just leave him?'' 

Sherlock shook his head and looked down at his lap. 

''But, this has to stop, Sherlock. Look at yourself. How much do you weigh?'' She sighed heavily. ''You can't do this to yourself. He just got you back. He can't watch you fade again.''

Sherlock let out a long, shuddered breath. ''I wish you'd all stop caring about me. It was easier when you didn't care.''

Mary bit her lip and was about to respond when the cab stopped and the driver looked back for his fare. Sherlock paid and got out of the car without another look at Mary. He pushed his hands into his coat pocket and started towards the hospital doors. He asked at the desk for John's room and went up without waiting for Mary. 

When he got to John's room, a few doctors were just exiting. They informed Sherlock that John had just woken up and that he would make a full recovery. He was just a little bashed up right now. Sherlock walked in and stopped when he saw John. He was fine...apart from his head. His hair stuck up at the back from where it had bled. Sherlock locked his eyes onto John's and swallowed hard. ''You idiot.''

John sighed and looked down. ''Is Mary with you?'' 

Sherlock nodded and paced over to the window in John's room. ''She was right behind me.''

John followed Sherlock's movements. ''Does she know?''

''No.'' Sherlock murmured, looking out the window and into the dark night. ''Why did you do that, John? You could've died. Do you know how lucky you are?'' Sherlock looked back at him.

John just shook his head and stared up at Sherlock. ''You know why I did this.''

Sherlock's face twisted in pain for just a second. ''Yeah,'' he said in a breathy voice, the lump in his throat hindering him from proper speech. ''It's always my fault.''

John's eyes widened and he pointed at Sherlock. ''You know that's not what I meant, Sherlock.''

Sherlock just looked at John, his face grave,drawn and tired. ''It's true, John.''

John opened his mouth to make an argument, but Mary came in. She rushed over to John, tears in her eyes. She took his face in her hands and kissed him quickly. ''You silly man!''

Sherlock looked at them both, his face almost blank in his extreme terror and pain. He just couldn't do this anymore. He could not live any longer. It wasn't fair. He didn't want to be here. Why should they get to keep him here? Selfish. He wanted to die. 

When they pulled out of their kiss, Mary stayed looking at John's face, just glad that he was okay, while John glanced over at Sherlock. And when he saw the expression on Sherlock's face, he felt his heart break. Sherlock looked away and after a moment of hesitating on his feet, he walked from the room. He didn't want to live anymore.