Sherlock Imagines and Preferences

The Power of Love

Requested by LifeInsideTheTardis 

This is a long and perhaps also a painful one. I hope you enjoy it and don't hesitate to leave a comment, telling me what you think. I love hearing from all my lovely readers. Have a lovely day everyone! ♥

~***~

Footsteps could be heard clearly as Sherlock Holmes rushed up the stairs to his flat. The door flew open and nearly broke due to the force Sherlock used to kick it open. You casually sipped your tea and continued reading the paper. Just another normal day at Baker Street, right? 

Sherlock stood in the doorway, panting and scanning the living room with his widened eyes. He suddenly leapt forward and began throwing things on the floor as he searched for something. ''Where is it? Where is it?'' He mumbled as he looked for what he needed. You knew exactly what he was searching for and under no circumstances were you going to tell him where you had hidden it.

The skull smashed into pieces as it was thrown on the floor and the carpet became black as the charcoal from the fireplace was spread everywhere. Despite the mess, you stayed calm and simply kept drinking tea and reading the news articles. He'd calm down soon enough. ''Where is it?!'' Sherlock yelled. He got up from the floor and was now staring at you suspiciously. ''You hid it.'' He accused. ''Hid what, Love?'' You smiled sweetly as you looked up at him. ''Give it to me, (Y/N).'' Sherlock demanded. You shook your head and continued to read the paper, having finished the tea. Before you could comprehend what he was doing, he snatched the paper from your hands and it joined the mess on the floor. ''I was reading that!'' You stated indignantly. ''Not anymore.'' He hissed. ''Tell me where the drugs are or I swear to God, I'll kick you out of my flat!'' You rolled your eyes and stood up, preparing yourself for yet another argument. ''No.'' You stated, staring at him coldly. ''You promised you were going to quit and agreed that I'd hide the drugs so you wouldn't be tempted. I intend to keep that promise and so should you!''

Your hands were firmly on your hips as you stared at your estranged husband. Ever since his drug addiction had resurfaced, he started acting differently. After catching him in the middle of getting high, you two had made a deal that Sherlock was going to stop using again and you would help him do that. The first step you had decided to take was burning all the drugs at Mycroft's house, knowing he would never suspect that. Sherlock seemed to be doing okay for a while, but then he started working on an immensely difficult case that he just couldn't solve. The stress caused him to crave some stimulants and he lashed out once or twice. His behaviour had changed a lot and the two of you had starting growing apart. He wasn't kind and loving when he was craving the drugs, he'd be ruthless and say horrible things. He would turn into the man he was before you came along.

''Give them to me this instant!'' Sherlock shouted, anger and frustration radiating from his eyes. You gulped. He intimidated you and you were often frightened when he acted like this, but you did not give in. Drugs could mean the end of his life and you were not letting that happen! ''We had an agreement, Sherlock.'' You hissed, getting angry yourself. ''I DON'T CARE. CAN'T YOU SEE THAT, YOU IDIOT!'' He screamed. ''The only idiot in this room is you, Sherlock. You don't even want to try to overcome your addiction and it is driving me insane!'' You shot back. ''Oh, like I'm the only one that has faults.'' He mocked. ''You should really start losing some weight, Dear. It's just awful to look at you.'' Your mouth fell open, tears threatening to spill. ''You don't mean that. You're just saying that because you want to get high.'' You choked, your voice barely a whisper. 

His words stung and the worst part was that you knew he was right. His face was stone cold and fire raged in his eyes as he stared at you, no pity or compassion was present inside of him at that moment and you were afraid of the man who stood in front of you. ''You disgust me, (Y/N). SO, GET OUT!'' You shook your head in disbelief, tears rolling down your cheeks as he spoke the words that hurt 0more than a thousand bullets. ''If that's what you want.'' You whispered, not being able to talk any louder. His hand shook violently out of anger as he pointed at the door. ''Get out.'' He hissed.

There was no trace of the man you married left inside of him. At least, you didn't think there was. If someone could say such horrible things about another person, especially someone they claimed to love at first, then there wasn't even a little bit of humanity left inside that person. They weren't worth being saved. You grabbed your coat and rushed out of the building. You didn't know where to go, but you didn't care. You just kept walking and walking, ignoring the pain in your feet. Getting far away from Sherlock. That was the only thing that mattered at that point.

***

Sherlock groaned loudly as the ringing of his phone woke him up. A throbbing headache made it hard for him to think. He slowly got up and answered the call. ''Am I speaking to Sherlock Holmes?'' A kind, female voice spoke. ''Yes, this is him.'' He replied groggily. ''You are listed as the contact person in case of emergencies for (Y/N) Holmes. I'm calling to inform you that she was brought to the hospital this morning.'' His eyes widened and his hand shot up to his mouth. ''I-Is she okay?'' He stammered. ''I'm afraid not, sir. She's in critical condition and the doctors aren't sure if she'll make it through the night.'' Tears started pouring from his eyes as he tried so hard to keep it together. ''I'm on my way.'' He ended the call and rushed outside to get a cab, not caring about his messy appearance. 

Memories of the previous night flashed through his mind and he started to remember how horrible he had been to you. Crying was inevitable as he thought back to the look of hurt on your face and he broke down. There was no doubt that he broke your heart. He was responsible for your injuries, and because of him, you could die.

As soon as the cab came to a stop, Sherlock stumbled out of the cab, completely forgetting to pay the fare. Getting to you was the only thing on his mind and nothing else mattered. The receptionist told him what room you were staying in and he rushed upstairs to get to you. A doctor just exited the room as he arrived and flashed Sherlock a sympathetic smile. ''She's in there.'' He said softly.

Sherlock's shaking hands opened the door and supported him as he nearly collapsed at the sight of you. You were connected to all kinds of machines and both your legs were covered in white bandages that matched the décor of the room. It was incredibly painful to watch. 

He slowly made his way over to the hospital bed you were in and collapsed into the small chair next to it. Sobs escaped his lips as he grabbed your cold, battered hand. ''I'm so sorry.'' He sobbed. Words couldn't ever make right what he had done. He felt so incredibly guilty about the things he had said to you. He wasn't himself then. The longing for drugs clouded his ability to think and the things he said were not a representation of how he truly felt on the inside. He was blinded by the cravings. Sherlock would never be able to express how guilty he felt and how sorry he was. But now, all he could do was hope that you'd pull through. Forgiveness wasn't even something he thought about at that point, he knew it was highly unlikely.

A soft groan escaped your lips as you started to wake up. Opening your eyes, the first thing you saw was your estranged husband clutching your hand as tears rolled down his cheeks. He let out a sigh of relief when he noticed you were awake. ''Oh, my Love.'' He cried, his head dropping onto your lap as he sobbed mercilessly. ''I'm so, so sorry. I didn't mean it, Darling. I wasn't myself last night.'' You kept quiet and stared at the white ceiling above you. You had no intention of forgiving him for the horrible things he had said to you the night before. He had caused you so much pain, not just emotional but also physical. Tears had blurred your vision and you were too engrossed in your hurt to notice the nearing car earlier that morning.

Sherlock started to hyperventilate as tears kept streaming down his face, noises muffled by the thin sheet that covered you. The guilt was literally suffocating him. You felt tears sting your eyes as you realised how much regret he felt. Your hand automatically went to his hair. It was what usually calmed him. No words were spoken as you softly stroked his curls. The only noises in the room were the beeping of the heart monitor and the sound of Sherlock's ragged breathing as he started to get control over it again. He lifted his head slightly and looked at you. There was so much emotion and pain in his eyes, unlike the night before and your heart ached for him. Why you felt sorry for him, you would never fully be able to understand, but you forgave him. You forgave him for everything he had done and said that had hurt you so much and had even put you in a hospital. You couldn't help but forgive him although you still didn't understand why. You simply blamed it on the power of love.

It's the strongest emotion in the world and it's able to conquer everything. As long as the love for each other is there, nothing can take you apart.