Ghost in This House (JohnLock AU)

Wake Up

A/N Hey My Lovelies!!! Sorry I didn't upload yesterday!! Helped a friend move and then was just too tired and sore to do anything but sleep. Here is a small chapter to hold you over until I can type more!! Enjoy<3

Sherlock ran through the familiar halls of his mind palace, throwing open doors and calling for John. He had to find a way out. He ground to a stop just in time to watch the floor before him crumble away.

His body was dying, his mind palace slipping away with it.

He turned and raced up an old flight of stairs, trying to ignore the creeping realization that made itself known in the back of his mind.

He knew this place.

This was where he killed himself.

He stumbled upon an old, rusted door. Memories of his death starting to flood back. He had locked himself in the darkest corner of his mind palace to avoid the pain. He took a deep breath and grabbed the handle, forcing the door open. He was greeted with a morbid sight.

Sprawled out on the mouldy floor was his consciousness, pale and thin, obviously strung out on too many drugs. The sickly frame was shivering and muttering uselessly. He knelt beside the body, feeling an overwhelming sense of gratitude that John hadn't met him when he was like this.

"Wake up." The body didn't respond, still muttering nonsense. "Wake up!" He shouted, shaking the man on the floor. "Please! You have to wake up!" Pale eyes opened to meet his own.

"W-Who are you?"

"I'm you. Well, the part of you that lived."

"Did I die?"

"Almost."

"Damn. I'll just have to try harder next time." Sherlock helped his double to his feet, supporting the weak man.

"No, you don't understand, you have to fight."

"Why should I? No one misses me, no one will miss me."

"You're wrong. John will miss you."

"I don't know anyone named John."

"Yes, you do. You know him and you love him."

"Ooh, unrequited love. What a perfect thing to want to return to." Dying Sherlock shoved him away, stumbling through the door and making his way down the long corridor. "Thanks, but no. I'm not strong enough to deal with another person hating me."

"It's not unrequited, John loves you too." Dying Sherlock turned back to face him, his brow crinkled in confusion.

"Not possible. No one loves me."

"John does. And he is waiting for you to wake up." Sherlock stepped closer to the dying man, clenching his fists. "You have to wake up."

"No." Sherlock's vision turned red as the palace crumbled around them. He swung, catching his double in the chin, sending him flying.

As he struck the wall, the castle shook violently and Sherlock could hear the distant beep of a heart monitor. He grabbed the sick man again and slammed him harshly against the wall.

"John needs you!" He shouted, punching Dying Sherlock again, once more hearing the distant wail of monitors. "For fucks sake! Fight! John Watson needs you!" The castle started crumbling faster, the walls disappearing around them. "Please. You think it was lonely before, you have no idea how much it hurts knowing that you failed John Watson." He whispered, knowing it was too late. His body had died. He could feel himself fading away. "I'm so sorry John."

"You're sure this man loves us?" Sherlock nodded, dropping to his knees and heaving a great sob, clutching his stomach and rocking to try to ease his way into death.

The world faded away, and just as his last thought echoed through the air, Sherlock felt the insistent throbbing of something beating the walls of his mind palace.

John!

Greg stood over the lifeless form in front of him, trying desperately to figure out what happened.

Sherlock's body had gone into shock, his internal organs failing and his brain shutting down. The doctors had tried to revive him, but to no avail.

Sherlock Holmes was dead.

Greg listened as the doctors call his time of death, wheeling their crash carts from the room and trying to get Mycroft's attention.

He had failed, and now Sherlock was dead and John was alone.

"Mycroft, God, I'm sorry." His voice cracked as his boyfriend turned to grab him in a tight embrace, sobbing into his shoulder. "I'm so sorry." Tears were slipping down his cheeks as he held the grieving man.

Beep!

Greg ignored the sound at first, it was just the machines reminding them of the dead man they were still attached to.

Beep!

This time, Greg looked up, not missing the flash of green on the heart monitor next to Sherlock's head.

Beep! Beep!

"Oh God." Greg whispered, pushing Mycroft off and stepping closer to the body on the bed.

"Greg?" Mycroft's broken voice came from behind him.

Beep! Beep! Beep!

Pale eyes met Greg's as his heart hit the floor. He stumbled back, fighting for breath.

"Doctor! Nurse! Somebody, help!" He cried as the once dead body started fighting for air.

Sherlock Holmes was alive.