Nicotine (Sheriarty)

39

Moriarty

Whilst Sherlock was in hospital, Jim led on the sofa feeling bored. He had already tried everything he could think of to keep him occupied. Reading. Watching TV. All of which resulted in his boredom.

The detective had been in hospital for a month now. Although he felt better, the doctors preferred to keep an eye on him.

Jim closed his eyes and listened to the sound of his own breathing. In. Out. In. Out. Knock at the door. In. Ou- wait. Knock at the door?

Jim stood up and slowly made his way towards the door. He pulled it open to reveal a very angry looking John Watson.

"Oh! John, hi! Sherlock's not home yet... He's still in the hospital if you wanted to see hi-"

John pushed his way past Jim into the flat. Jim turned to face him.

"Tell him." John said plainly, clenching his fists.

"Tell him what?"

"Well what do you usually tell him?" The doctor shouted suddenly.

Moriarty reached out his hand to touch John's shoulder but John just shook it off.

"John?" Jim asked. He was confused. What was John on about?

"Tell him that you don't love him. Tell him that this was all just your... Your twisted plan to get closer to Scotland Yard."

"But it wasn't..." Jim's voice suddenly sounded tiny and pathetic.

"But that's what you're going to tell him." John said, his voice sounding equally as pathetic.

Jim saw this as an opportunity.

"And why would I do that?" Moriarty demanded, "Hmm?"

"Because I used to see him every single bloody day and now I'm lucky if I see him once a month. You've changed him Jim." John paused for a moment, "When was the last time he went on a case? Do you even remember or was it so long ago that you can't?"

"I-" Jim began.

John interrupted, "You know what? I don't need this! I don't... You can have
Sherlock. Just tell him... Tell him that I can't do this anymore. And that I'm sorry."

With that, John left the flat without another word. Jim was too confused to stop him. Instead, he led back on the sofa and returned to listening to his breathing. In. Out. In. Out. Car tyres screeching. Crash. Crash?

Jim shot up and ran to the window to see Watson led on the floor in front of a taxi.

The man felt paralysed as he saw all the people on the street rush to his aid. Should he help? What was he supposed to do?

When the taxi door opened, Jim thought nothing of it. Nothing could have prepared him for who stepped out.

Sherlock.

Without a second thought, Jim ran outside. As he stepped into the cold winter air, he saw Sherlock knelt by John, who was somehow still conscious.

As Jim got closer, he noticed that John was still angry. Angry with Sherlock.

"Get away from me!" He shouted through his pain.

Moriarty placed his hand on Sherlock's shoulder but Sherlock didn't turn. He stayed staring at John.

"Get away from me! Both of you!" Watson shouted once more.

"Sherlock..." Jim muttered whilst trying to rag his husband away.

"No!" Sherlock repeated as if it was the only word he knew.

"Sherl, come on. He doesn't want us here."

"I can't leave him..." Sherlock whispered as Jim dragged him away, "I can't leave him again."

A/N

Sorry for the late update and sorry for the short chapter and sorry for angry John and sorry for sad Sherlock but thank you for 12K reads!

-A