Sherlock Imagines and Preferences

Comfortably Numb

Requested by CellophaneDiamond

Song: Comfortably Numb by Pink Floyd

Thank you so much for all your support and your sweet comments, they really make my day. I seriously can't thank you guys enough for getting me where I am now. It means the world to me that you read my silly writing. I hope you all enjoy this SherlockxReader oneshot despite it not having turned out well. Have an amazing day, you beautiful human being ♥

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Hello? Is there anybody in there?

Just nod if you can hear me

Is there anyone at home?

Come on now, I hear you're feeling down

Well I can ease your pain

And get you on your feet again

Relax, I need some information first

Just the basic facts

Can you show me where it hurts?

''Under no circumstances am I going to go back to that horrid place!'' Sherlock argued. His older brother rolled his eyes and sighed. ''Yes, you are, Sherlock.'' He stated. ''Your drug habits are not healthy! You're destroying your entire body, including the brilliant mind you have been gifted with! You cannot let that go to waste. You need to stop this nonsense and use that brain of yours!'' The young detective rolled his eyes, but made no further attempts to fight his brother's statement. Deep down, he knew Mycroft was right. Drugs were dangerous and toxic substances and it was no secret that he was destroying himself. He had tried to stop before, the will to live stronger than the craving for more, but he always ended up using again. He would never admit it, but he was addicted. Drugs were an escape for Sherlock. His mind was constantly racing with thoughts, giving him painful headaches. And too often did it become too much for him to handle. Drugs offered rest. When he was high, he didn't notice his fast thoughts and spinning brain. He was much more relaxed and it felt like he could breathe again. It relieved him of so much pain and anxiety. However, the poisonous substance could only offer a temporary solution. After every dose, he craved more and more, sending him on a dangerous path to overdosing. And, of course, he was aware of that. It bothered him from time to time, but nothing another dose couldn't fix. He was able to let go of all troubles whenever he was high, it seemed almost magical. It was a gift. A gift he just couldn't let go of. But he knew he had to. If he didn't stop using, he would die soon. Whether he'd die from an overdose or health problems caused by heroin, it didn't matter. All that mattered was that he'd recover from his addiction. Sherlock knew that and so did Mycroft. Going back to rehab was Sherlock's last chance to get over this tough period in his life. He knew he had to take it, but taking that first step was incredibly hard.

He hated proving Mycroft right. His older brother had always been keen on having the last word and Sherlock was the exact same way. The thought of giving in and showing Mycroft he was correct, was an absolute nightmare to Sherlock. His brother would probably use it to his advantage in arguments, and Sherlock couldn't stand that. Though, that wasn't the only thing holding him back from becoming sober. Getting over his addiction meant rehab and rehab meant Hell. Never had Sherlock been to a place as horrible as those recovery centres. It was absolute misery for him to be locked up in a small room each and every day without anything to do but think about the craving for drugs. The day rooms were even worse. The mandatory group- and private therapy sessions were awful and all those people in one room was too much for Sherlock to handle. In rehab, he couldn't get a single second of peace and quiet and not a single second to just sit and think. The withdrawal and the noise made it impossible to enter his Mind Palace and concentrate. It was just horrible, but he had no other choice. He had to go back to rehab and face the consequences of his addiction. It was now or never.