I am not dead, are you? (SherlockXMoriarty PostRBF)

John gasped for air, desperately breathing in deep, trying to control his panting. He needed to do this, Sherlock couldn't stand seeing him this way. He had never allowed anyone to see him this way. He wasn't weak, no.

John did as Sherlock said and forced himself to keep his eyes locked with the other's. His hand still gripped as tight around Sherlock's wrist. John nodded, feeling the sweat now dripping down the back of his neck. Sherlock was there, he wasn't going, he would come back. He kept saying that to himself. John kept nodding while Sherlock spoke, repeating the words on and on.

After a few minutes his heart started to slow down again. He still inhaled deep and fast but now controllable. "I.. god.. I'm sorry." He whimpered exhausted, eyes tearing up. "I'm such an idiot." He whispered to himself before breaking out in tears.

John body had no idea how to deal with the overwhelming emotions it had been feeling in the last hour. He was weak, making everything even worse. The hand that gripped Sherlock's wrist before now searched for his hand, entangling his fingers with Sherlock's. He wanted to rest, to sleep, to feel better when he woke up.

((poor John, he's in pieces ;_; ))

Sherlock's resolution did not waver, his eyes stayed in John's pairs, trying to ground him, to make him believe that he really was not going to leave him alone. His free hand instinctively moved up, caressing the other's cheek, moving down to his neck, the way Jim always touched him, the way Jim made him feel better.

He relaxed slightly when John seemed to calm down, and shook his head at the words. "Don't say that... don't even try saying that..." he muttered, closing his eyes for a moment. "You aren't an idiot, and you shouldn't apologize, I understand, John... I understand..." he whispered, their hands moving and their fingers entangling.

(( Baaaahhh I know right! But well, yea drama. And feelings. And drama. I love it. ))

"I'm sorry." John whispered a few more times before his eyelids were too heavy to keep open. Sherlock's hand on his face and neck was relaxing. It felt good. As much as John tried to fight off his sleep, he couldn't win. His body was emotionally damaged and overly exhausted. For the next few hours he would be out, there was no doubt about that.

(( I was definitely not complaining <3 ))

Sherlock looked at John for a long time after he fell asleep. He wished he could find a way to fix him just by looking at him.
He realized then that John would have been better off had he never met him.
He had no idea where Sherlock would be then, probably in a mental institution, but it would be better than having to see his friend broken like this.

He pulled away eventually, his expression grim as he took out his phone to check the time.
He had to come back later.
Even though he was exhausted already.

He walked out of the room, looking a lot like a zombie, he just wanted to see Jim.

Jim had taking a seat at the waiting room in the corridor. He made himself too nervous by pacing back forth the whole time. Through the glass he saw John's door open and Sherlock's eyes looking around to find him.

As fast as he could he got up and walked over to him. He was a mess, his hair, red stained eyes, wet cheeks. He had been in there for nearly 2 hours. James wanted to accuse him for many things, but his heart dropped when he saw the state his boyfriend was in.

"Sherlock?" He whispered soft, reaching his arm up to rest his hand on his upper arm.

Sherlock's heart jumped in his chest when he saw Jim approach him. Thank God he was here. Thank God, he thought, instinctively wrapping his arms around the other's waist, burying his face in the other's shoulder and bursting into a silent cry.
Just like a baby.

It had been worse than what he had expected, and now, now that he didn't have to be strong for John, it all came crashing down on him again.
How was he going to manage this?
How was he going to make things work?

"I love you, Jim," he whispered through his tears, his heart heavy with the feeling.

"And I love you too." James replied, he meant it. Even though he felt jealous and fed up with what happened today.

He felt tears dripping on to the exposed part of his neck. What had happened in there?
"Shhh." He susses, Sherlock needed to calm down first, this wasn't anything like him. On of his hands stroked through the detective's hair while the other caressed his back.

"It's okay." He said, not sure if it actually was. He just stood there, holding Sherlock for a while. "We should go to the hotel, Sherlock." He said carefully.

Sherlock calmed down. Slowly. But Jim's warmth and patience seemed to be able to heal his heart. Or at least give him courage.
"I can't. I need to be here when John wakes up..." he whispered, pulling away just slightly.

"You cannot even imagine Jim... he is... he is broken... all over... his mind... he... he had a panic attack just because I said I was coming back tomorrow... I can't... I can't leave him right now..." he took in a shaky breath. "I wish I could just go back to the hotel... but I promised..."

James felt his body starting to shake in anger. Or was it jealousy? Or both? He bit his lower lip and pulled away from Sherlock slightly. Restless his eyes tried to keep contact with Sherlock's. He tried to keep his emotions to himself, but his possessive side was about to take over.

"Right." he said, trying to sound normal. "I get it." He nodded. "You know, this is exactly what I thought would happen."

Sherlock wanted to protest when Jim pulled away, he didn't want to lose the contact of his body, he wanted to melt against the other's warmth. It was unfair. He needed it.

The words brought him back to reality though, the tone Jim was using was unmistakable. He was jealous, wasn't he?
"I thought about you the whole time I was in there, Jim..." he whispered, almost pleading. "Don't jump to conclusions..."

"What did you think was going to happen?" he asked, because he really had no idea it was going to be this hard.

"I'm not saying you didn't think about me. But did you tell him? Did you have to guts to say anything at all?" James's eyes pierced through Sherlock's, which seemed even more colourful now he had been crying.

"This. John asking you to stay and you just obeying to it." He sighed while he spoke. "And I am not jealous" he hissed. "I am just pointing out the obvious." he stepped back even further. "You can't expect this from me. Sitting here, waiting."

Sherlock looked at Jim, shock dancing on his face for a long moment. "I couldn't tell him now! He had a fit when I mentioned I met you! He yelled at me just because I said I didn't plan to kill you! Jim, I know you are used to have everything right away, but I can't make things go quicker just because I want to set off with you!" he protested, and shook his head.

He felt anger pool in his chest at the other's words, Jim was making things harder for him, when he had hoped he'd be of support instead. How could they possibly make this work?
"What do you suppose I do then? I should just leave him to die? Is that what you think I should do?" he snapped, his whole body a bundle of tension again. "I am not asking you to sit and wait for me, but I... I... I was hoping I could at least come home to you... that you would help instead of making things harder."

James immediately snapped back at Sherlock: "I shot my best friend in order to save you. I left him alone in an hospital at the other side of the world. How do you think that made me feel huh? I didn't gained any happiness out of it, I did it /for you/. So I thought the least you could do is return the favour, right?"

He was about to storm off though, Sherlock's pleading words for support kept him nailed to the ground. It was a shot straight through his heart and he couldn't possibly think of leaving his friend in this state. His hands rubbed over his face and ruffled his short black hair for a moment. " I can't help you with this." He sighed. "But I won't make it harder either."

"I did not ask you to shoot Sebastian, and I did not force you to leave him... you chose both those options on your own," he muttered, and his eyes were sad, miserable. "John is not trying to kill you... he just needs help... he's not even asking for it..."

He felt his heart settle on a surer beat, he needed to make things clear, otherwise he knew things were going to be harder. "I won't lie to you, this is going to take a while, John expects me to move back with him, he thinks life will be the same as when we were solving cases together," he explained, his voice shaking. "I don't know if things can ever be the same, but I think it'd be the best way to make things good for him..."

He took in a deep breath. "You can stay, we can try to make things work and to insert you in John's life carefully and slowly, so that we can have a relationship without him opposing us... I am willing to do anything to make us work, Jim, but I have a responsibility towards John as well... and if I left with you now, maybe I would be happy at the beginning, but then I would crumble with regret knowing I killed my best friend, I would blame you for things you haven't done, it wouldn't end well either way..."

"Ooohh.. Right.. I had a choice... I seee." He spoke soft but ever so sarcastic. "Right, so let me bring Seb back from Canada and try to insert him in our lives, oh what a wonderful idea."

James could not believe his own ears. John wanted their old life back and in some way Sherlock was agreeing with this. "It doesn't have to take a while, Sherlock. The sooner you tell him, the sooner he'll get over it. He knows you're alive, that's what ha wanted right?" James frowned. He had no idea how bad John's state of mind was. He just couldn't imagine it. To him everything sounded as if Sherlock was just trying to find excuses to stay a little longer.

"Sebastian is in love with you," he pointed out with a sneer. "I wouldn't have a problem with him being part of our lives if he hadn't tried to kill me and convince you to go back to him," he snapped, it was preposterous to try and compare John with Sebastian.

"I thought it would be enough as well, but John is an emotional state that does not allow things to progress that quickly... he has panic attacks, he is unstable, he is almost delusional... he will probably think he has dreamed the whole thing once he wakes up, and he might try to kill himself again... he has been depressed for a long time, Jim... I had no idea... but... but..." his voice shook in worry. "I might lose him anyway, regardless of what I do now..."

"And John is not trying to convince you to come back, is he?" James was so not taking this. Though John indeed seemed really bad considering Sherlock's words. But it was up to doctors to change that, wasn't it?

"You think you're too late?" He asked after processing Sherlock's words. The pain in both Sherlock's voice and eyes were tearing him apart. He knew just how much John meant to Sherlock and he had always envied the kind of relationship they had. Something he could only dream of, something he wasn't able to have. It bothered him.

"John isn't trying to convince me of anything, he just thinks it's the most obvious consequence to my coming back, he has no reason to think it is not what I want..." he muttered, and took in a deep breath. "And even if he was, being his flatmate wouldn't mean we can't be together, we can be a couple no matter where I live... me being a friend to John doesn't mean I can't be your lover. I can be his friend and your lover at the same time," or at least he hoped he could.

Sherlock took in another shaky breath, Jim's question made him wonder about the possibility John would try to kill himself again. "I don't know... I... I am not sure how to deal with this... but... I saw him... lose control in that room... and I think anything could lead him to despair if I am not careful.."

He frowned. "I can't possibly think that having me back could make him happy enough to get over this..."

"You don't really believe that yourself, do you? He wouldn't allow me being close to you." James said, and before he knew he was explaining Sherlock why he was acting this way. The fear of losing him, the fear of things not being as good as they were. Well... As good as they were in between everything they had already gone through.

James did not knew what to say to the way Sherlock described John, so instead he just nodded. "Okay." He said, not really sure on what he was agreeing. But the way Sherlock looked at him reassured him he somehow did the right thing.

His hand reached out to wrap around the taller man's middle and he buried his face against his chest. "Just as long as I don't lose you." He muttered against it, tightening his grip.

--

John abruptly woke up from yet another bad dream. His eyes just as wide as his mouth could be when he found himself alone in his room. This had never happened, what he though, his mind did played tricks on him.

"No.." he whispered, desperately. "no, no..NOO" his voice now really loud while he started crying. He pulled on the IV line, ripping it out of his arm leaving a trail of blood dribbling over his arm. Not that he cared, though. He was already taking of the patches that kept control of his heartbeat. A flat line and constant high beep filling the room.

((You don't think John's overdoing it, right? haha.. just say if it is. ))

"He's not going to be happy about it at the beginning, he hates you just as much as I used to hate you," he whispered, and bit on his lower lip. "But he's my friend, he would understand eventually... John always said I had no saying in who he dated, I don't see why it shouldn't be the same for me now..." he commented, and sighed as Jim moved closer again.
He needed this, he needed Jim to stay focused on him, to be sincere, open, not to give in to anger.

"I don't want to lose you either... I swear I will find a way to make this work," he whispered, realizing only then that he had never had anything to fight for like in that moment. "Just be patient... please... be patient and trust me... trust... us..."

He turned around abruptly when he heard the shouts coming from the door, the alarms of the machines becoming loud a few seconds after.
"I've got to go, you don't have to wait here, I will call you," he whimpered, kissing the other's head briefly before he disappeared inside again.

What he saw broke his heart all over again.
"John!" he shouted, panicking at the blood coming out of his arm. "John! Please!" he had never seen his friend lose control like that.

He tackled him to the bed, pinning him down with his body, making him stop his dangerous fit.
"Calm down, John."


((It's all good, still quite understandable^^ I just think we can keep Jim a secret for him for a while more... we do not want John to kill himself for real >> so we can use the drama about John's health now, and keep the one about Sherlock and Jim's relationship leaking out for later XD ))

James got confused by the sudden change of evens and wanted to follow Sherlock inside, see what was going on. Instead he went to the doctor's cabinet, informing him something was going on there. After that he decided to go back to the hotel. He flopped on to the bed and took out his phone. His finger slid over the screen until he was nearly at the end of his contact. "Sebastian Moran." He tapped on the name and wrote a new text message.

"Are you okay? -JM"

It never delivered.

--

John struggled against Sherlock's body, hitting him, trying to kick him away.

"No. No go away. You're not real. You're not real." He kept saying, now trying to hit his own head. Tears floating from his eyes and blood running from the cut the needle had left him.

Just a few moments later the doctor stormed in. "Excuse me sir. You'll have to leave the room." He said as he grabbed Sherlock by the shoulders, pulling him away from John. In his hand a needle that almost immediately moved to John's upper arm, burying into it. Drugging him, in the doctor's eyes was the only thing to keep him calm. Or at least the easiest way. "There you go." He spoke reassuring to John, keeping him pinned to the bed. "Sir. You HAVE to leave the room." He once more said as he looked over to Sherlock.

((Poor Jim *hugs him* ))

Sherlock didn't care about how much John hit him, he wasn't going to let go of him, even when his lip split and started to bleed for a blow to his face, it was only when the doctor came in between that he stepped back.

He watched as the drugs took effect, his eyes never leaving John, worried, wondering what was best to do.
If he left now, John would think it had all been a dream, it was an easy way out, but would it change anything?
John would just get even more depressed and who knew how long he would last.

"I am not leaving," he said, his voice confident. "He just had an attack because he thought I was gone, I am not bloody leaving him," he insisted, and was going to menace the doctor if he had to.
"I am his only relation... I am not leaving him..."

James laid on the bed for a while, thinking about his boyfriend. He sort of had smashed his phone in anger when he saw the message did not deliver. What would Sherlock be doing? What was going on? Would he even return today? James curled up, wrapping his arms around his knees and closed his eyes.

--

John had calmed down, falling back asleep as the drug took its effect. All went back calm. Beside from the doctor.

"We'll keep him on drugs for a while." He pointed out. "Making sure his body can coop. It's for the best." He nodded towards Sherlock. "You need to get that lip checked. You can't stay, I'm sorry." He walked over to the detective, trying to get a grip on him and lead him outside the door.

Sherlock frowned: "You don't understand, he's going to have another attack if he wakes up without me here... how long are you keeping him sedated?" he asked, wondering why the doctor wanted him to go.
If he knew how much time he had exactly though, he could come back later.

He looked at the man with a scowl. "I might not look like it, but I can make this hospital close down in a few minutes if you don't cooperate, and I guarantee you won't have many places to work at after you get sacked from here," he menaced, his voice a cold warning.

"At least until tomorrow morning." He answered. The doctor straightened his back, trying to look taller. They had managed with a lot of difficult visitors before, this one was no exception.

"You don't seem to understand me either, sir. Don't make me call security on you." He hissed.