Youngblood

Ghost of You

"Sherlock? Sherlock, can you hear me?"

Slowly, Sherlock's eyes opened and were met with John's blurry figure. He scowled. In his intoxicated state, he could clearly hear (Y/N)'s voice calling his name.

"It's you," the detective spat, shrugging John's hand off his shoulder.

"Bloody hell Sherlock," John started. "What is it this time?"

"The same as always, John. A seven percent solution."

John was shocked. Sherlock had been sober for a few good months, and now he was damaging all the progress he had made. He started looking around for the box his flatmate kept the syringe in, ignoring Sherlock's pouts.

"Let me have this, just once, John!" he cried. John shook his head.

"You've been sober for months!" the blonde was glaring at his best friend. "What made you start again? Does (Y/N) know?"

"(Y/N) is dead!" Sherlock shouted. John was silent; he noticed Sherlock had been acting different only a few days ago. He had no clue that (Y/N) was dead; he thought the change in behavior was 'Sherlockian' for 'there are no good cases'. "(Y/N) is dead," the detective whispered, tears making his eyes glassy.

Like how Mrs. Hudson had comforted Sherlock only a few days ago, John brought him into his arms, rocking him back a forth. He knew Sherlock didn't understand emotion; hell, they had slammed him hard over the course of the past week. It was silent until they heard footsteps ascending the stairs.

"Is everything alright, John?" Mrs. Hudson asked, entering the flat.

John nodded, still comforting his best friend. "Everything is fine, Mrs. Hudson. Sherlock is just...really emotional right now."

"Oh, Sherlock," the old woman sat down on the sofa and gently combed her fingers through his hair. The gesture helped him calm down, and soon enough he was off to sleep.

John and Mrs. Hudson left him to sleep in his bedroom, with the door cracked. They sat out in the dining room, whispering. "What was that all about?" she asked.

"Mrs. Hudson," John began, clearing his throat. "(Y/N) is dead."

The woman held a hand to her mouth, processing the information. "Dead? Who killed her?"

"I think you have an idea," John whispered, his throat tight. He didn't want to say his name.

"They were so happy on their wedding day," a tear rolled down Mrs. Hudson's cheek. "Why would Moriarty do this?"

"I don't know."

---

Sherlock was surprised to enter his mind palace to see a wooden door with calligraphy letters spelling out the name '(Y/N)' in front of him.

He didn't want to open the door at first, but curiosity got the better of him and he opened the door, his jaw dropping as he was greeted with a green meadow. The sun was shining, and there was a single tree off in the distance to give off some shade. A cool breeze ruffled his already messy hair.

He could hear her laugh in the breeze as it blew. He called out her name, setting off towards the tree, hoping she'd be there. Maybe he could spend the rest of his life in here, with her.

The laughter was louder as he neared the tree. It was bigger than it had been when he was across the meadow. On each leaf was a memory; most of them were from her childhood, but there were some from recent events. Sherlock smiled a sad smile, remembering the short time they spent together.

He froze when he rounded the base of the tree. Her gravestone was there, and sitting on top of it was (Y/N), dressed in all white. She was humming to herself.

He reached out a hand to touch her, but she quickly held up her own to stop him. "You can't touch me in here, Sherlock." she looked up to gaze at him with her perfectly, white eyes. He missed the (E/C) iris that would swirl around the pupil when it would dilate.

"Why can't I-"

"You'll distort my image. This is in your head, after all."

He swallowed thickly and took in her figure. "Sherlock," she whispered.

He met her colorless eyes, tears forming in his own.

"I love you, too."

---

He woke up sobbing.

She loved him, and she couldn't love him anymore because she was gone. He hugged his knees to his chest, sobs escaping his body rapidly as he held onto her memory. Sherlock needed to see her again, but not like that. He pulled out a spare syringe he kept under the mattress and mixed together a solution. Finding his vein, he slipped off into peaceful intoxication.

He couldn't sleep. His mind was wandering and it was too difficult. In his state, he heard a knock on his bedroom door. He scowled; it was probably John again. The door slowly opened and (Y/N) stood there, dressed in the same white outfit she had in his mind palace.

"(Y/N)?" he questioned, sitting upright on his bed.

"Dance with me, Sherlock?"

He nodded quickly, racing to grasp her outstretched hand. When he did, her figure melted away and appeared further down the hall. "You've got to catch me!"

The detective chased the figure throughout the flat, giggling like a child on Christmas day. John wasn't home to see him like this, so who cared what he did? He was happy, even if his addiction brought him happiness.

Sherlock finally caught her, and together they danced the waltz around the flat. It felt good to have her in his arms again. He stumbled as he leads her through the dance, laughing joyously. He never wanted this to end.

The sound of the front door slamming shut was enough for Sherlock to break free from his hallucination. He sank to his knees. John was back home.

"That was quite a sight for sore eyes," he hummed. "I haven't seen you dance since she left."

Mrs. Hudson was right behind him. "Why don't you dance like that anymore, Sherlock?"

Tears pooled in his eyes. "My feet don't dance like they did with her, Mrs. Hudson."

So I drown it out like I always do, dancing through our house, with the ghost of you

~The End~

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A.N: Wow, this is the end of 'Youngblood' for now. It's been one hell of a journey and I'm happy to say that I really love how this story came out. All that's left to do is to read through it and catch any mistakes/grammar issues.

Please comment your feedback about the story and feel free to ask any questions you have!  I know some things may be confusing and hopefully, I can answer your questions.

This isn't the last you'll see of Sherlock, trust me. I have another albumfic planned for next year, this time with some of dodie's songs. Plus, there will be a special Christmas one-shot for this story, and I will be dedicating some of my free time to writing and planning it out. It should come out around the holidays.

Please comment, share and vote!

Thank you for reading 'Youngblood'!

Until next time,

~Em