Old habits (Johnlock)

Chapter one

TRIGGER WARNING!
Themes of suicide and self harm

Sherlock drew a shaky breath. His forehead dripping with sweat. He had the blade in his hand and he had no reason not to anymore, did he?

John didn't care anymore.

He was entirely alone. His salty tears hit the ground in a steady stream as he relapsed. There were bottles and bottles of pills in the bathroom and a gun in the draw he thought.

John had forgotten all about Sherlock now he was married.

Sherlock was back to where he had been before John. Back to the crippling depression and dreams filled with blood and medicine.

Sherlock picked up his phone and dialed Lestrade's number.

Lestrade still checked on Sherlock sometimes so Sherlock only felt it right to say goodbye.

'Greg?'

'Sherlock? Hi mate'

'I'm just calling to say say thank you for everything and goodbye. You've always been so kind me to and I thought it was right to say goodbye'

'Sherlock? What do you mean'

'Goodbye greg'

For Sherlock only four people in the world deserved a call in his final hour. He'd already called Greg.

There was only Mrs Hudson, Molly and John left.

John. Sherlocks eyes teared up again at the name but he pulled himself together, he had to say goodbye.

Mrs Hudson was away for the weekend so she couldn't interrupt this time.

Sherlocks bony fingers touched the screen on his phone.

'Mrs Hudson'

'Hello dear'

'I'm just calling to say thank you, you were always more of a mother to me than my own mother so thank you for it all. Thank you for everything Mrs Hudson. Goodbye.'

'That's so lovely dear, I'll see you when I get home. You be good now!'

'Goodbye.'

Silence yet again struck through the flat. Greg was at least an hours drive away now. Sherlock would have to hurry.

Molly was next and Sherlock was shocked when she didn't answer her phone but he left a voicemail nevertheless.

'Molly its Sherlock. Thank you Molly. Goodbye Molly. I shouldn't think you'll be seeing me again.'

That was it.

Sherlock poured himself a glass of bitter alcohol that john had left behind and drunk it all in one gulp.

It took him minutes to finish typing in Johns number.

He plucked up the last of his courage and pressed dial.

It took three tries for John to answer but Sherlock couldn't just leave him a voicemail.

Not with John.

'john?'

'Mary. John's just in the kitchen I'll put him on.'

Sherlock heard Marys slippers shuffling across the floor.

'john?' He stuttered

'Who is this?' John replied without a hint of recognition. Sherlock felt like he had been shot. That hurt so much.

'Its Sherlock.' Sherlock forced the words out

'What's up then?'. John sounded agitated.

'I'm just calling to say goodbye and thank you. For everything really. The years I spent with you were the best years of my life. I'm sorry it had to end this way John. I'm so sorry' Sherlock's eyes began to fill with tears again

'Sherlock whats going on?'

'I'm standing in the bathroom there's blood everywhere and I'm clutching a bottle of pills. Deduce.'

'No Sherlock don't'

'The thing about that John is that I have no reason not to anymore. I'm just calling to say goodbye I felt you deserved closure, was I wrong?'

'Sherlock.' John whispered, his breath calm and normal.

'No John. I'm trying to say that john I'm sorry goodbye and that well. Just that.

I love you.

Have since the day we met. Just wanted to get that off my chest.

Goodbye John'

'Sherlock' John was shouting now but before he could say anything else Sherlock had ended the call.

That was it.

Sherlock was ready to go.

He had no need for a note now. Mycroft would know what had happened. Nobody else mattered.