Sherlock One-Shots and Preferences

Moriarty - One Sided Love part 2

(WARNING:
This will contain mentions and the intention of self harm and suicide. If those topics make you sensitive then please don't read this. Again, every time I make a chapter with self harming I will always say YOU ARE PERFECT! You are amazing the way you are, so don't let anything or anyone put you down, especially yourself.

When people say that you must love yourself before you love others, I don't think that's true at all. When you love others they help you realize how wonderful you are, they help you to come to the conclusion of loving yourself. Anyway that's all from me, hope you enjoy.

For @Rockynut2014 (you might want to read the previous chapter)

Reader POV:

It had been two weeks in the hospital recovering from my bullet wound. It had pierced my left lung and shattered one of my ribs but other then that I was alright. The police had rushed in just in time, and Sherlock Holmes took the liberty of doing CPR since he said that the police were too dimwitted to do anything about it. I was quickly rushed to hospital and died on the table twice but luckily pulled through in the end. The truth was I felt like crap. Everything hurt and breathing was a pain at times, especially when laughing or taking a deep breath. The doctors said it would take a while for that to dissipate, and it sure was taking its sweet arse time.

Sherlock had visited me quite a few times though it was brief visits. Just hello, how are you, how's your pain, goodbye situations. It was Sherlock, he cared but didn't really care at all, though for Sherlock Holmes it was surprising he visited more then once. It was nice to see the curly haired detective at times, he cheered me up, made my terrible day sitting in a bed all day a bit less terrible. He was funny like that, he could liven up the situation or make it worse.

The time came where I was released from the hospital. I was brought to tears from being so happy, being in a hospital room all day and night was terrible, it was torture.

John was there to help me in and out of the car, he had been more prominent then Sherlock throughout the time spent in the hospital, of course John would because he's my best friend. All three of us are flat mates but John and I were old friends from high school, Mike Stanford had introduced us to each other again. Mike was a good man.

Everything was signed and John finally escorted me out the sliding doors. The cool late summer breeze blew my hair a bit, made some loose strands slap into my face. I immediately breathed in the fresh London air, which wasn't so fresh but it was better then the weird hospital smell that you could never pinpoint what it was. John helped me into the car and we drove back to 221 B. The drive was awful quiet, John didn't know what to say and I didn't really want to say anything. Lately I had been thinking about Moriarty. What he said to me, what he did to me, what I thought about him...it was like a broken record in my head.

"So, enjoying the ride? I think it's better then a dingy hospital room." John mumbled turning his head to face me. His arm was on the arm rest in the door and he was quite relaxed though his foot bounced lightly on the car floor. I heard only part of the question but inferred what he was saying.

"Yes it's quite nice." I chuckled awkwardly and shifted in my seat, it sort of hurt to laugh or chuckle so I strained myself from going any further. Everything hurt when I thought about it, especially me, my brain my heart my feelings. I just wanted to switch everything off.

We got back to the flat and everything was the same, actually it was even more messy. Papers were everywhere, plates with half eaten things on them and empty teacups littered the floors and furniture. I gave John the knowing look of 'really?' and John frowned. "Sherlock's in one of his moods. I think it's because of Moriarty." John said and I nodded. Sherlock was known to get into moods an stay in them from a couple days to a month depending on how focused he was. How peculiar.