BBC Sherlock Imagines

Sherlock: Two Years (Part 1)

Request for @221B_BakerstreetSlut

~

"Anything to eat?"

"No."

"Anything to drink?"

"No." Sherlock cradled your ring in his hand, inspecting it carefully. John sighed inwardly. For two years he had been asking the same question to Sherlock, every day, trying to get him to function as he used to. But since you had left, Sherlock had never been the same. He ate only at 4am, your favorite time, and slept only when his body had exhausted all thoughts of you and shut itself down. It wasn't easy for John either, he missed you just as much, but he had to be there for his best friend, had to keep both of their lives going.

"John?" called Sherlock from his chair. His voice was rough from having seldom spoke for so long. Instantly John perked up, not used to Sherlock being the one to start any sort of conversation.

"What is it Sherlock?" he asked carefully. For a second Sherlock turned his head, looking at John straight in the eye, but quickly faced a different way. He stared out the window, as if he was searching the glass for the words he needed to speak.

"Thank you." And that was all he said before he abruptly got up and briskly walked to his room. John heard his footsteps padding down the hall, and could even hear the swish of Sherlock's robe. The door closed, and John finally remembered to breathe. He didn't need clarification on what Sherlock was thanking him for, he already knew. Those two words were in thanks for the last two years, and for John, that was good enough.

~

Days passed, an endless number. Mrs. Hudson cleaned and cooked. John read and went to work. And Sherlock, well he existed. Still, even that was hard for him without you. He measured his breaths to remind himself to refill his lungs; when he thought of you all sense of living left him.

He didn't understand why you had left. There was no explanation. He sensed it had to do with Mycroft and so he begged him for any information. Mycroft zipped his lips though, merely stating that, "Dear brother, she wasn't that interesting anyways. Probably ran away to pursue the passion of watching grass grow." What a sly liar Mycroft was. Sherlock was smart to go to him, but it's too bad he wasn't smart enough to dig deeper. Instead he spent his days looking at photographs of you, clasping the ring you had left him on your bedside table, and wondering what you were doing in that exact moment of time, if maybe you were thinking of him too. If he would have dug deeper though, he may have discovered that you left for one reason and one reason only: to save Sherlock himself. Moriarty threatened you, told you that if you didn't do what he said Sherlock would die instantly. So you did as he said. You left immediately, no warning to anyone, except Mycroft. You sought him for help in disappearing completely, and with a slight hesitation, he complied. He would never admit it, but he knew this would hurt Sherlock deep and he didn't want to do that to his little brother, hence the hesitation. Within the hour you were gone. Sherlock and John were on a case, Hudders out shopping, and Mary at work. It had been easy.

And one would think coming back might be just as easy? But it wasn't. You had thrown up twice on the walk over. You shook slightly on the steps of 221B. Instead of knocking, you instantly turned the knob to go straight inside - instinct was taking back over your body. But the door was locked.  You reached inside your back pocket and grabbed out the key. It felt all too familiar, and the sound of the door unlocking was a melody you had missed listening to for so long. You pushed open the door and glanced around in surprise. Everything was the same. Nothing had changed. Time had stopped in 221B. Even your scarf, which you had left in the same spot two years prior, still hung from the coat rack, dangling lifelessly. You noticed the light in Mrs. Hudson's room off, and you assumed she was out, so you set off for upstairs.

Dust decorated the staircase and nervousness clouded your throat. It felt like something was digging at the back of it, causing your mouth to water and your body to tremble.

You could see the door now. It was closed, shut off from the rest of the house.

You breathed in deeply, mustering enough strength to take the last steps up. Each step felt like a weight dropped on your foot, and on your heart. Your palms sweated shamelessly, and your heart threatened to break through your chest. Before opening to door, you took a moment. What if he cut his hair? What if he stopped wearing suits? What if he became a serious businessman with a wife and child?  What if he has become disgusted by murder like the rest of the world? Worst case scenarios ran through your head. Mycroft had told you nothing except that you needed to go to 221B immediately. Swallowing your fears, you again ignored the common rule of knocking, and entered the room.

A/N

Back to late night updates again seeing as school is OVER. (I graduate in T-minus 2 days)

So made this into two parts because I'm about to snooze and I didn't want it to seem rushed or anything.

So yeah.

Reminders:
1. New book 2 parts from now (this is part 98)!

Btw.

In my last random I asked that question about torturing... And just to clear things up I don't condone violence. I mean I'm not lecturing you guys for what you said, obviously I asked it so yeah, I'm just saying that I see a lot of you struggling with people at your school. My advice: kill them with kindness. That's what's gotten me through middle and high school, seriously. Elementary school was hell for me. 5th grade I was terrorized by my "friends", both physically and emotionally. But once you hit senior year you realize "Hey, I don't have to see these people every again, it doesn't matter what they think or say about me". Don't let anyone ever make you feel bad for being yourself. If they do, then thank them for helping you realize how much you do love being yourself because you're not an insecure bully like them. Easier said than done I know... But I believe in you guys. 20 years from now you won't even remember their name, or maybe you will because they will be working for you... High school and middle school suck because you're stuck seeing them everyday, but after that, you're free. So heads up and march on strong kiddos. I love you all, and I'm always here for ANYTHING you need to talk about.

Random: What is one thing you want to change about the world?

Night natural beauties.

P.S. SETLOCK PICS ARE CURRENTLY KILLING ME #SHERPRESSION