BBC Sherlock Imagines (Book 2)

John: Let Go

Request for Charlotte_Moriarty

I know that you "love dying of feels"

~

The only sound heard in the room was the beep beep of the machine that sat next to Mary's bed. The door to the hospital room opened, but John couldn't muster the strength to look who it was. He didn't care who it was. He felt his hand squeezed slightly by his wife. She was still sleeping and her eyelids fluttered lightly as she shifted her head to the side.

"John." His name was uttered so softly that he barely heard it. He refused to turn around, and he tried to act like he hadn't heard. "John I know you heard me." He swallowed, still refusing to turn around. "John," Sherlock said again. The doctor shot up from his chair with speed that Sherlock had never seen. He pushed Sherlock out of the room, then shut the door behind him once they were in the hallway. He looked at his best friend. His curly hair, that usually flopped with life, was hanging at the sides of his face. His button up shirt was wrinkled and the buttons were hooked into the wrong holes, like he had dressed hurriedly. They had been at the hospital for 12 hours and he still looked the same as when they had gotten there this morning. "John," said Sherlock once more. John shook his head and looked down at the ground.

"Why do you just keep saying my name?" John asked, his voice breaking on the ends.

"Because I don't know what else to say."

"Say you can bring him back. Say that this was all a bad dream and that I'll wake up in the morning and he'll still be in this world. Say.. Just say something Sherlock. You always have something to say." The detective looked at the man he had spent the past few years trying to save and protect, and he felt his heart break when he realized this was something he couldn't fix.

"I'm sorry," was all Sherlock could think of.

"WHY DO PEOPLE KEEP SAYING THAT?" exploded John. "Saying sorry won't give my son the first breath of life he deserved. It won't fix the hole in my heart and it won't fix the hole in Mary's. Saying sorry does nothing, nothing at all. Why can't people... Why can't.. Why is he..." John clenched his fists at his sides. The tears, the sadness, the anger, they all bubbled up and were slowly boiling over. Sherlock reached out to John, but before he could try to calm him, the doctor punched the wall. The sound of his knuckles breaking the wall echoed down the hall. Out of instinct, Sherlock grabbed onto his friend's fists.

"John look at me. Look at me. It will, it will be okay." John watched the tears pool around his feet. He couldn't feel his right fist, but he knew Sherlock was holding it.

"Let go of me," he growled. "LET GO!" He didn't know if he was screaming at Sherlock or himself. How was supposed to let go of the son he had never met? The son that he was supposed to play catch with, read books with and, god forbid, go to crime scenes with. He thought of everything he would never be able to do with him. And Mary... He couldn't bare to think about her at the moment. As she pushed and pushed and heard no screaming, no congratulations from the doctors, her face had gone pale like the life in her had gone with their son's.

And then John collapsed. He stopped fighting and he let the emotions erupt through his body. A volcano of feelings filled every pore in his body, and he wondered if this was what it was like to drown and burn at the same time. His heart burned with fury and anger and heartbreak while he drowned in the the deep waters of sadness and loss. He didn't know it, but the only reason he was still standing was because of Sherlock. The detective caught the doctor as he was falling, and now he held him tight, hoping maybe he could help fit his pieces back in place. Sherlock didn't know what to do or what to say, so he held John. Eventually John's sobbing and screaming mellowed out, and a tidal wave of numbness flooded him. He felt nothing. He felt empty.

John looked around, rubbing his eyes. He was alone in the hallway, and he wondered if Sherlock had ever been there to begin with or if he had just imagined that. He tried to gather himself together to go back into the room with Mary. He realized that he had needed that breakdown, that now he could be strong for both of them. Opening the door, he glanced around the hall one more time hoping to spot a long black coat hanging around the frame of a tall man with curly hair, but he only saw the hole in the wall that matched his heart.

Little did he know that down the hall in the bathroom stood the man in the long black coat, tears cascading over his cheek bones.

He indeed had been there through it all, and would be there though the rest.

A/N

1. OH MY GOSH JUST DISCOVERED THE SHERLOCK MINI EPISODE "Many Happy Returns" AND MY HEART BROKE AND SMILED AT THE SAME TIME OMG 2017 IS TOO FAR AWAY DARN YOU SHERPRESSION I AM LITERALLY DYING OVER HERE PLZ COME SOONER

(and Greg was in the mini episode a lot so me likey)

2. myfirstnameisagent and I are getting married and you all are invited to the wedding and our vows will be Sherlock imagines read aloud so yeah party

(P.S. DON'T FORGET WRITING SUBMISSIONS ARE DUE TOMORROW)

3. Omg I'm addicted to the Sims 2 again (I thought grow out of this when I was like 10). Literally played it for 5 straight hours till like 3am because I convinced this guy to give me all of the expansion packs and stuff to me for free so yeah. And next I'm making Sherlock so yeah

4. HAPPY FOURTH OF JULY! (America)
What other countries celebrate independence days? Like what are your guys' traditions? Usually just parades and fireworks here!

5. Random: Imagine Sherlock as being a reality TV show... What would the name of it be? (I'm very excited to laugh at all these brilliant ideas)

Stay safe.
Thanks for reading.