Happy For the Stranger (Johnlock)

13

 My head rests on his chest, just above the bandages so I don't hurt him. It's been 3 weeks, and he's still not awake. People convince me to go back to the flat every once in awhile to sleep, but I don't sleep. I only go into my mind palace and into the room that I have reserved for John. His beautiful eyes, bright smile and perfect body. If only he loved me back.

The last time I was at the flat, I packed up my violin and brought it here to the hospital, remembering how he loved the music. Standing up from the chair and placing one kiss to his forehead, I take my precious violin out of its case and face the window like I always do when I play. It's a different environment and instead of seeing the street in front of the flat, I see the parking lot that holds all the cars and the canopy in front of the hospital. Putting the bow to the strings, I start a melody that I've been composing.

I've been writing everything down in my head, not a single note of it on paper. In fact, I just keep making it up as I go, and I think it gets different every time, but in my mind, it's John's piece and since John is always changing, so is his piece. Once I'm finished playing I turn around to see if it worked like it does on those crap telly shows, but he's still asleep.

Sighing I sit in the chair again and place my head on the white sheets, my hand resting on John's arm, my thumb absently rubbing over his skin. I wish he was awake so he could feel me touching him, so that maybe I can convince him that I really do love him.

The nurse comes in every few hours, and whenever she leaves I pick up my violin, either to continue composing John's song or another piece. Every time the nurse tells me that I can't play, because it disturbs the other patients.

"I don't see what's so wrong about playing music! It's helping my John wake up!"

"I'm sorry sir, but if you don't listen to me, I will have to take your instrument."

"It's not just an instrument! It's a violin, and you should give it the respect it deserves, because it's waking him up!" I thrust an arm over at the sleeping man. He doesn't move.

"I'm sorry, sir. You need to stop playing."

A tear slips down my cheek as she leaves and I return to John's bedside.

"This is all my fault. It's my fault you went to Mary's and it's my fault you got shot, oh God, John, it's my fault if you never wake up and I never talk to you again. I love you." Another tears falls down my face and I grab his hands with mine and lightly kiss his fingertips.

"I love you so much."

When I look up, there's no surprise to find that he's still asleep. He's never going to wake up.

I almost want to give up. Packing away my violin, I exit the room.

"Goodbye John. I'll be back tomorrow. I love you."

Again he doesn't stir.

What am i supposed to do?