Failing Upward

Chapter 32 (part 2): Interlude

"He was singing to me, and it wasn't you. I told him to shut up, and he wouldn't. He kept singing."

"Sounds like me." I tugged at his hair.

"That's just it. He was trying to be you. Going from one universe to the next, he got good at assuming the role of John. He took cues from others around him and used what he gleaned from inside himself. You are a smart man in any universe. He told me once this was universe number ten and counting."

"Must suck, going from one universe to another, slipping into other people's lives."

"Yes, well, seems it was his choice. I wasn't as concerned about him as I was for you and where he left you."

"With Moriarty? Not like he did that intentionally."

"Of course he did! He wanted out of there, and he got out. At least he did the right thing by going back. Sometimes I wonder if we really have a choice," Sherlock said, and rested his chin on my head. "The other John probably believed I had some responsibility for sending him back since he knew I wanted you, not him, but it was also a compulsion. He felt the need to continue on from one universe to the next."

"Makes me wonder," I said. "You said he was so sure Lestrade would find me on that beach and dig me up. Like he knew because he been there so many times before. Some version of me could still be there buried. Maybe he is thinking of more than himself, maybe it's his plan to rescue us all."

Sherlock flopped back down on the bed. "He said he loved me."

"Which one of you? Christ!" I closed my eyes. How could I be jealous of myself!

"I thought at first it didn't matter to him," Sherlock said, caressing my leg with his long fingers. "But then, he told me how he felt about Sherlock in the last universe he was in. He loved him. Really loved him. As for me, he never acted on his feeling, at least he never pushed. I like to believe that's the real reason he took the risk to go back, because that is where he plans to stay."

"You know, we seem to make a decision to jump to another world— conscious or not, but I don't know. It might be whoever pulls the strings wants it to seem like we have control, but we really don't. We're just part of a grand design. When we did it on the beach, it wasn't planned, but the circumstances were perfect. Too perfect. I wonder. We both wanted out. It happened. Now you're here, I'm back. Shit. Do we control our destiny or not?"

"I want to believe we do. I'm hoping we can."

"If we could go back, would you decide not to take the serum?"

"That's not an option."

"That's not an answer."

"We can't go back in time. Only to a different universe where we are not the same." He kissed my shoulder, then rested his head on the same spot.

"You're right," I said. "Unless we go back to where we belong, but I'm beginning to wonder if it even possible." I slid down and put my arm around his shoulders and squeezed. We left my promise unsaid. "I missed this most, talking to you, having you to confide in, to lean on."

"I missed this too. It's easier with you here. I hate being alone. It's this whole not feeling pain. You'd think it'd be convenient," he said. "It makes for some unforeseen problems. The band was waylaid in a hotel in Cleveland, and I cut myself shaving. I didn't realize it when I answered the door. The maid took one look at me and ran screaming down the hallway."

I coughed into my hand, laughing.

"Touch is just not the same without pain. I know now what Peter meant and understand why he acted recklessly. You want to feel it. You want what you don't have."