White Noise

A Newfound End Date

"Sherlock, I need to talk to you." John insisted, staring into Sherlock's desperate, broken eyes. He looked even worse than he had in the office, his eyes were like those of Victor's in his final moments, dimmed and hopeless, and his usual aura of beauty was gone from his skin. John almost didn't recognize him.
"John please, just...just leave me alone?" Sherlock muttered in a broken voice.
"I'm worried about you, in the sincerest of ways, I'm afraid that you're not treating yourself as you should." John insisted.
"I'm fine John, trust me." Sherlock snapped, but John could tell that he was just saying that in an attempt to get John off of his back. He was on the verge of collapse, every move he made in his long, thin limbs was shaking and erratic, and every footfall had the potential of missing its mark and sending him sprawling to the wooden floor below.
"Sherlock you're not fine, please, sit down." John insisted, taking Sherlock's arm lightly and leading him to a booth. To his surprise Sherlock didn't protest, he followed weakly at John's slight tug of his arm, grumbling his protests but in the end he just collapsed into the booth, leaning up against the wall and heaving his breaths, as though that simple walk had weighed too much on his wellbeing. John, being the loving doctor he was, became increasingly worried about him, and obviously Sherlock was a little bit relived to have someone care so deeply.
"Sherlock you're not well, have you slept at all?" John wondered nervously, sliding into the seat across from Sherlock and eying his new patient with worry.
"John I haven't had the time I can't...I can't even think about sleep." Sherlock whispered in a voice that made it sound as though every word was a burden.
"Any food then? Water?" John wondered with the sincerest of worries.
"Coffee and cigarettes." Sherlock muttered weakly.
"Sherlock you're killing yourself! Do you have any idea how unhealthy this is for you?" John exclaimed in horror. It had been a week since he had last seen Sherlock, had this man wasted away for that entire time?
"Killing myself, yes, funny you should use those words..." Sherlock breathed.
"You need to come with me." John decided, leaving his coffee on the table and getting to his feet.
"To where? Can't you see I'm in no condition to love you?" Sherlock snapped with a sort of conformational smile.
"To the hospital, you need medical attention." John decided finally.
"I'm fine, dear lord John, you're just so...overbearing!" Sherlock exclaimed dreadfully, letting his head fall against the booth while taking deep, troubled breaths.
"Sherlock I can't let you waste away like this." John insisted through gritted teeth.
"Why not? Why the h*ll not John, what more do you want with me? Why should you care about a life that you had so carelessly damaged?" Sherlock growled.
"Because I love you Sherlock, I love you and I want to make up for every hurt I have caused you before. Let me save your life." John demanded. Sherlock just laughed, rolling his eyes for a moment and just chuckling to himself, as though John's heroic words did nothing more than amuse him.
"I don't care about your emotions John, your meager, disgusting little heart. I don't even think I believe in love anymore, it's just a front, just an excuse to drain the emotions from another for your own selfish purposes." Sherlock growled. Sherlock just leaned back in his chair carelessly, shaking his head once more and taking a long sip of his coffee.
"I'll be fine John, without you. But the question is, I suppose, will you be just as well without me? My physical state may be deteriorating, but look at you doctor, look at how your mind crumbles..." Sherlock breathed.
"There's nothing wrong with me." John demanded, however his voice was so weak he knew he wasn't fooling anyone.
"That's exactly what a broken man will say." Sherlock reminded him with the raise of a long, white finger. John stared at him for a moment, staring rather accusingly. Here Sherlock was, telling him to take better care of himself when the man was wasting away with cigarettes and coffee.
"You said that as well." John insisted, remembering Sherlock swearing that he was fine not minutes before.
"Well then it seems the both of us don't care too much about our own state of health. However you burden yourself with trying to take my case, obviously it's just an excuse to get closer, to get your hands on me once more, now that Victor is out of the picture." Sherlock growled.
"I don't want to trick you into falling back in love with me, Sherlock I'm trying to save your life!" John exclaimed.
"I don't want your saving!" Sherlock yelled back, interrupting some of the conversations that were going on around them. John stood up straighter, looking around at the suspicious crowd for a moment before dropping his voice lower, in an effort to keep their conversation slightly private.
"Then fine, sit here, die here, if you won't accept my help then it would seem you just want to follow Victor to the grave." John growled.
"It's a tempting offer, Doctor." Sherlock said with a laugh.
"Sherlock, fine, you know what? But take this." John insisted, grabbing a pen and paper out of his pocket. He scrawled down his address and phone number, tearing off the paper from the pad and setting it down in front of Sherlock on the table.
"What's this?" Sherlock wondered carelessly, leaning over the table to try to read the writing but obviously becoming more confused than ever.
"It's where you go when you finally decide to live again." John insisted, shoving his things back into his pocket and grabbing his coffee rather roughly from the table.
"Oh well that's convenient, isn't it? It's your home address right? I hope I won't come just in time to meet the Mrs." Sherlock said with a snarl.
"Sherlock, please, try to treat yourself better." John pleaded, feeling as though he was talking to a brick wall at this point.
"Try to leave me alone better." Sherlock mumbled in a horrible attempt at a comeback. And yet John got the hint, and, being as though he was needed at work, he scrambled off, not bothering to give Sherlock another undeserving goodbye.