Chapter Text
I woke up to the sound of my fucking obnoxious phone ringing. I decided to ignore it, I’m not fit for personal relations… with anyone, in whatever form. I turned my head, and my gaze caught on my forearm. There was a needle stuck in the vein right under where my bicep meets my forearm, the place where I usually stabbed myself so I didn’t have to go through those horrible withdrawal symptoms again. There was blood dried up from where it spilled out. It’s only normal, seeing as I was piercing a vein.
I didn't remember the night before, but it was only probable I got caught up in my addiction. Good thing I didn’t go out- I would’ve made a fool of myself, what, with heroin riding high in my veins.
I slid the blue liquid filled syringe out of my skin and rolled over to face my nightstand. My eyes squinted at the light that I just then realized filled the room. I lifted up my arm to place the newly removed needle on the table next to my bed. I felt sharp white pain shoot through my muscles, and let out a pained groan. My hands shook, and I barely managed to drop the item onto the cool wooden surface.
I steadied myself as I tried sitting up, new pains shooting through my abdomen. I grabbed the glass on my nightstand, which contained a foul smelling brown liquid. Taking a quick swig of whiskey and cringing at the taste, I quickly summoned enough courage to stand up and open my dresser drawer.
I pulled on a white button up shirt and I laughed as I realized it had a blood splotch on the sleeve. 'Are any of my shirts not blood stained?" I asked myself.
My phone rang again, causing to me jump. "Bloody hell!" I yelled at no-one in particular and raced to turn off the vibrato of noises that were making my ears bleed.
"Yyyessss" I slowly managed to get out. It sounded slurred, but I hoped the other person on the line wouldn't notice.
"God, really? You sound like you just had the best night of your life... again." A familiar voice said.
John.
There was a moment of silence before he added "You should really try to stop, you know."
I didn't know how to answer.
"Sherlock?"
"Wwwwhaaat, yeesss i'mm hereeee" I replied.
A laugh came from the other end. John... was laughing at me?
"Sorry Sherlock it's just... I've never seen you like this, I never imagined in a million years that this would happen to you."
"Hahaa verry funnyy" I said, speech still slurred. At this point I had started sliding down off the bed and onto the carpeted floor.
I let out a quiet 'ow'.
"Alright... Sherlock I'm coming over. " John sounded worried.
"Nnoo, nooo its okayyyy jsut a little sdeefcttse" god dammit why couldn't I talk?
"Sherlock I need to be there to help you through this okay. You know the come down is going to be hell. I'm not going to let you sit there in pain by yourself." John said and then hung up.
I think about a half an hour went by where I was just laying on the carpet of my bedroom, before John came in shouting my name.
"Sherlock! Sherlock?" He paused as his eyes caught on my nightstand- The one with all the used needles strewn about. I could see in the reflection of the mirror above my head that his face went from urgent to something more... heartbroken seems like a reasonable description. His brows furrowed up and his eyes started watering. He must not have realized the extent of what I was using until now.
"Sher-Sherlock..." he stuttered.
I couldn't do anything but sit there with regret filling my body.
He walked over to the side of the bed where I lay on the floor.
"This is pathetic. Sherlock Holmes the bloody genius reduced to incoherent words and uncoordinated movements by a few chemicals. Honestly, I still can't believe you'd do this to yourself." he sighed.
I looked up at him and gave him a sort of look with my face which could be interpreted to mean 'sorry'
"Why?" he whispered. It sounded like he was about to cry.
He reached out his hand in an offer to help me get up. I took his hand and he propped me up on the bed and sat down on the floor next to me. He offered his hand again, this time in a more loving, protective way. I took it without thinking and he quickly maneuvered my arm around and pulled up my sleeve to see the marks left by the needles.
"Let's get these patched up." he said and then proceeded to pull a box of bandages from his coat pocket and apply them to the wounds on my arm.
"Are you sober enough that you can stand up and/or walk on your own or do I need to do that for you?"
"I think I can do it." I replied. Finally I stopped babbling like an idiot.
I slowly got up and walked toward the bathroom, taking a shower while john removed all my stashes from my room.
I came back from my shower fully dressed but also feeling the effects of coming down. I was queasy, sweating, fidgety, nervous. I felt sick.
"J-John." I said urgently.
"Hm?" he hummed calmly, looking up from the book he was reading as he sat on my bed.
"I'm d-dying." my voice shook.
John laughed.
"You aren't. It may feel that way but we'll get through this together."
"You know this would go a lot faster if you would just give me my smack back right?"
"Hm. I don't think that's going to happen." John replied.
"You don't seem to realize how much pain I'm in here. Please, I need it. Please..." I pleaded, desperate to get a fix.
"I'm not giving up just so you can have another hit. its just going to make it worse and you know this. Come sit on the bed with me and I can comfort you until this goes away."
It was at that point that I just started crying. Both because I felt the worst pain in the entire world but also because nobody had ever cared about me this much.
John got up off the bed to lead me back to it, sitting me on the plush grey blankets. He then crossed his legs and held me, and we stayed like that for a while.
While I had tears streaming down my cheeks, he placed his hand on my cheek to wipe the wetness away. But then he did something I never imagined would happen in a million years. He slowly leaned towards me, and the space between us diminished.
My lungs felt like they were bursting and my stomach felt like a million tiny butterflies had suddenly filled it. My throat got tight and my face got hot and I had never experienced this feeling before so it scared me, however, I decided I liked it. I never wanted it to go away.