Living

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A/N Hey My Lovelies!!!! This is it!! The final chapter!!! I may come back and write an epilogue later (that will have smut if I write it...) but I'm not sure yet. Anyways...Man alive this has been one hell of a roller coaster eh? lol...As always...Keep your eyes open for my next AU...Should be up fairly soon...just have to choose one from my insane list of ideas lol...Hope you guys like how I ended this!! Love you all!! Enjoy<3

"John, please, don't do this again." John sighed, feeling a sense of familiarity wash over him. Less than a year ago, they had been having this exact conversation. He fought with the ropes for a few more minutes, his hands shaking violently.

He still hadn't regained full use of his hands after what happened on Moriarty's ship. When Sherlock had been stabbed, John panicked and ripped his hands from their bonds, dislocating several bones and ripping flesh and muscles from the bone.

He stepped off the boat and took Mikey's face in his hands, trying to calm his distressed friend.

"Mikey, I'm sorry. I just- I can't do this anymore."

"What can I do? Please, I don't want to have to watch you sail away again." Mikey had started crying and John leaned down and pressed gentle kisses to the shorter man's lips. "Please don't go John."

"I'm sorry Mikey."

"If it were Sherlock asking you would stay." John's chest tightened painfully, but he couldn't bring himself to deny the words.

"That doesn't matter-"

"Yes, it does! You should go there and scream at Mycroft. He fucking killed Sherlock-"

"Mikey, don't do this again. Moriarty killed Sherlock. Nothing you could have done would have saved him." He pulled his friend into his arms and held him close, fighting back tears at the memory of Sherlock. "I've got to go. I'll call you-"

"When you reach E2, I know." John's heart broke for his friend, but he wasn't going to change his mind. There was no way he would survive this trip, not with his hands in the shape they were. Mikey knew it, he knew that even if John wasn't leaving to find his death, he wouldn't make it through another energy storm. "What if I come with you? I-I'll- I'll do the busy work on the ship. You won't even know I'm there."

"Mikey-"

"Please John, I can't lose you again." John chewed his bottom lip and stepped away from his friend, fighting tears at the pain in Mikey's eyes.

"Goodbye Mikey." He whispered, turning away and starting to loosen the ropes that held his ship in place.

"Y-You?" He heard Mikey's voice, but didn't turn, trying desperately to ignore his friend. "H-How- I-I don't-" John heard a scuffle and a soft grunt, but continued fighting with the ropes.

He couldn't get his hands to work and felt frustration building in his chest. One of his hands slipped and caught of a sharp corner, tearing the skin open. It should have hurt worse, but the nerve damage numbed the pain.

"Fuck!" He shouted, gripping the injured hand tight to his chest and letting the tears fall. He was in pain, not just physical pain. He had lost the only person that gave him a reason to live, and now he couldn't even ready his own ship to sail away.

"Please stop him." Mikey's voice sounded broken and John felt a flare of anger. No deity his friend could pray to could change his mind.

"Stop it Mikey!" John snapped, spinning around to yell at the other man, his torn hand forgotten.

His heart stopped and shattered when he turned.

Standing beside Mikey was a tall, thin man, almost inhumanly beautiful, with dark curls and too-pale skin.

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