Falling For You

Drugged

Silence filtered between the two unlike any silence that had passed before.  John wasn't sure where to begin and Sherlock didn't know how he could apologize. He had really messed up, and he knew it. And it took a lot for Sherlock Holmes to admit that he was in the wrong.

"John-" Sherlock began, but John decided that he needed to talk first.

"No.  Sherlock, I thought... hm.  You said you loved me.  Were you lying?  Do you love Irene Adler?"

Sherlock calculated his words very specifically.  "No. John, whatever I once felt for Irene Adler has dissipated."

John laughed.  "Then how come you were kissing her then?" he screamed in anger.  John Watson wondered why Sherlock could never get it through his thick skull that feelings were not to be messed with.  John couldn't take any more of being tossed around like a ragdoll.  He needed to be Sherlock's boyfriend or he needed to be the one Sherlock solved crimes with.  He couldn't keep being thrown between the two jobs.  Not when he had gotten himself so invested.

"She came onto me, John!" Sherlock yelled.  He stopped himself and shook his head.  "I didn't mean it like that.  I just... I don't know what to do.  I'm scared and I need you to help me through this because I've honestly no idea what I'm doing.  Look at me.  I try to go a few minutes without you and I-"

Sherlock's body failed him.  His knees gave in and he fell over, but John was there to catch him. Neither of them knew why Sherlock had passed out, but it was because he had been poisoned.  Of course, if John had known this, he wouldn't have tried waking Sherlock up thinking that it was some kind of dramatic scene to make him forgive him.  But hell, it was working.

"I get it, Sher!  I forgive you.  Just... just get up," he begged.  But Sherlock was fading quickly.  He wasn't dying, but he was going into a state of hyper-reality.  Everything was foggy and all he could hear was John's voice begging him to wake up, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't. 

"Nurse!" John screamed, tears falling from his eyes.  He had no idea what was happening inside of his love, but Sherlock's body was shaking and he was screaming and sweating and John was so scared.  It didn't take long for two nurses to come and carry Sherlock back to his room to inspect him.  

John was on his knees in the hallway in a fit of tears, wondering why these things kept happening and why Sherlock couldn't go a few days without getting himself beaten, shot, or poisoned.  John remorsefully sauntered back to Sherlock's room where he was in his bed with doctors by his side, trying to figure out what had happened. John silently sat in his chair and watched them diagnose him with being injected by a strong hallucinogenic.  He would be able to make a full recovery, but he would be in a bad place for the next few days.  

"Wouldn't he be better at home?" John asked one of the nurses when she came into to check his vitals.

She smiled at John.  "You never leave," she said.

"Can't have him be alone," he replied, looking at Sherlock in the hospital bed.  John wasn't used to seeing him so weak and fragile.  From what John remembered, Sherlock was always rushing around to save him, not the other way around.  It was a strange change to be dating the damsel in distress for once.

"You must really love him," she noted.

"I do," John replied, unsure of why she had refused to answer his question.  

The nurse giggled.  "But you were asking if you could take him home.  Sorry, I forgot," she smiled.

"Can I?"

She looked around to make sure they were alone, and then she softened her voice.  "I'll put in a good word with the doctor in charge," she winked.  "Once he's up, I'll have him come in and check to see if everything's set."

John smiled at her as she left.  "Thank you," he said.

Then he and Sherlock were alone again and Sherlock was dreaming about God knows what in his drug induced sleep.  John wondered how the drug had gotten into his system.  If someone had slipped it in the machines filtering things through his blood or if it got in there some other way.  The only question then was who had put it there and why.

John was positive that it wasn't Moriarty because he was really dead this time, but that didn't mean that it wasn't someone in Moriarty's web.  John just didn't know who it could be.