A Study In Him (Teenlock)

Falling Farther

It was two days after their skating adventure, and Sherlock was a mess. His crush on John was only getting stronger by the day, and it hurt on every inch of his body-- His heart, his stomach, his head...And his wrists. He knew for certain John could never like him back, but he couldn't live like this...Close, but not close enough.

"Everything all right, Sherlock?" John's sudden question made Sherlock jump, until he realized he'd zoned out.

"Uh...Yeah, yeah. Why do you ask?"

"Well, you're kind of...Crying."

Sherlock brought up a hand to wipe the stray tear off his cheek. What the--?

The feelings. They were back.

Not here! Not now! He had to get rid of them, or else he'd break again. He could already feel himself coming apart at the seams as the feelings tried to escape, to be heard, to be seen...

He had to get rid of them. Fast.

"Er," Sherlock stood up fast, "Excuse me. I'll be in the washroom."

What if John somehow got in? What if he...Found out?

You see...The feelings. They drive him to ask dumb questions. Who cares if John finds out?

He slipped in carefully and locked the door, leaving John worried in the dorm. His roommate was silent as he went through the usual procedure, letting the feelings wash away. This time, he was careful to wash all of the blood out of the sink. Before he left, he flushed the toilet to pretend he was just using the loo.

When he exited, John sat in the same spot, looking confused and bewildered. Sherlock held his sleeves, sitting on the bed next to the dumbfounded John.

"You okay?" Sherlock poked his shoulder.

"Huh?" John jumped slightly, before calming down and processing what Sherlock had asked, "Oh, yeah. I should as you the same thing..."

"I'm fine. Just used the loo. But you looked...Confused."

"I did? Sorry. Just sort of...Spaced out."

Sherlock blinked knowingly and scooted to the back of his bed, leaning on the wall. He pulled a book on forensics out from under his pillow and started to read. John sighed and got up, heading to the door.

"Where are you going?" Sherlock asked, not looking up from the pages.

"Out. Be back in a bit."

John left before his roommate could say any more. Sherlock sighed. Gone again.

He closed the book and stuffed it back under the pillow. He got up and left the room, heading onto the grounds. Fresh air is all her needs.

Moments after stepping outside, he saw exactly who he didn't want to see.

Jim Moriarty.

Worst part is, Jim saw him too.

Sherlock attempted to go back to his dorm, but he was caught in the hallway and cornered.

"Hello, freak!" Jim smiled, "What a pleasure it is to see you!"

"Hi, Jim."

"Where's John today?"

"Out."

"Out...Of your life? Like all the others. Typical."

"No! He just went for a walk!" Sherlock hadn't meant to shout.

"Ooh, don't be so distraught! I'm sure he's coming back...Oh, wait, they never do, do they?"

"He just went. For a walk."

"A walk right away from you, eh? Ouch."

"No, to the corner store."

"Still not your bed, like you'd wish! Eh, faggot?"

At this, Sebastian let out a snort.

"My sexuality is none of your business, JAMES. And I'm not a fag."

Jim grabbed the collar of Sherlock's uniform and pinned him up to the wall, "It's Jim!"

"It's Sherlock, not 'faggot'," he retorted.

"Whatever," Jim spat, "I don't care what your sexuality is, but the fact you want John inside yo--"

"SHUT UP!" Sherlock screamed, reaching up to knee Jim in his tender area. The bully keeled over in pain, and Sebastian lunged to punch the future detective, but he ducked in time. He hurled himself past Irene, knowing she wouldn't hold him back, and ran full-speed down the hall and back to room 221.

He slammed the door behind him, hearing rapid footsteps approaching and then a knock on the door which he'd leaned on.

"Come out, Holmesy boy! We're not done with you yet!" Jim croaked from behind the door, his voice slightly distorted due to his obviously-still-hurting nether regions. Sherlock slid down the door into a crouching position, trying to block out the taunts.

The feelings. They were coming out already. Pushing against his skin, pulling him apart from the inside.

How could this happen? How could they be back already?

He realized now what he had to do. He needed them gone for good. Sherlock just couldn't take it anymore.

That night, he could hear John tossing and turning in the bunk above him. The future detective silently got up and swung on his coat, not making a sound as he left the dorm and climbed the stairs to the rooftop.

The wind blew hard, buffeting his hair and throwing his coat in all directions. His knees were already shaking, knowing he was up two stories high. Should be high enough.

He stood on the edge, feeling his vision get fuzzy. So. Very. High.

He blinked and shook his head, nearly making him topple off the side early. Just then, he looked to the grounds and saw a familiar hefty shape looking around in the dark.

John.

He felt his heart twist. He almost wanted to get down and cry into his beloved's shoulder, but he knew he couldn't bring himself to go on any longer.

But the least he could do was say goodbye to his best friend.

He dug around in his pocket and grabbed his phone. He dialed the number and brought it to his ear.

John picked up, "Sherlock? Where in the bloody hell did you go?"

"Look up John. I'm on the rooftop."

The figure far below looked around before laying eyes on the future detective. He froze, sputtering, "Sher...Oh my god..."

"Yes, John. I did it. I faced my fears."

"You got up at midnight to face your fears? Ugh, just...Get down you're scaring me."

"I can't come down John. The stairway is locked." That's a lie.

"I'll go unlock it, okay?"

"No, John. I came up here for a reason."

"And that reason is...?"

Sherlock felt John knew, but wasn't ready to admit it.

"My life...Is terrible, John. I'm coming apart at the seams. It's best I just get it over with."

"N--What? No...Don't listen to...Jim..."

"John, at least I had the decency to say goodbye. I left a note. I said goodbye to my best friend."

John tried to say something but was at a loss for words.

"Now it's time for the swan dive."

"Nope. Nope...Sherlock..."

Sherlock hung up and pocketed his phone. He held out his arms, hesitating just a moment before giving a little jump.

The stylish swan dive.

The last thing the future detective heard was John's rapid footsteps on the pavement and his terrified cry.

"Sherlock!"