Be My Starlight

I'm back

POV- John

Sherlock is useless right now, no point in trying to figure out when or how Moriarty got in. He left Sherlocks coat, a note tied to one of the buttons. Molly is rubbing his back as I rock him on the floor. His clothes are soaked through with wine, so are my pants. I worry slightly about the glass in his hands, and if he hurt his arm when he hit the ground. He lets me check his arm without complaining, just sits there sobbing. He can't handle this, if Moriarty truly is back it will hurt Sherlock.

"Shhh. You're okay. Breathe Sherlock. Please, you have to calm down."

He is hyperventilating again, not good. I try to get him to match his breathing to mine, something that has worked in the past.

"Sherlock, just breathe. Please. You're safe, I promise."

"I...I can't. I cant do this."

I pull his head to my chest, hoping something will calm him. My heart is racing too fast to help, but he burries his face in my shirt anyways. He is struggling to calm down, but I can tell he is trying. I watch sadly as he curls into a protective ball, head between his knees. It takes about an hour for us to get him off the floor, though even then he only responds to me. I manage to get him into fresh clothes and onto the couch.

"John?"

"I'm right here Sherlock."

He reaches out, tapping my fingers with his. I take his hand, sitting beside him. Molly comes back out, pulling me away from Sherlock.

"Here."

"What is it?"

"The note he left on Sherlocks coat."

Did you miss me?- JM

Sherlock is up now, walking over to me. I hold out my arms and he falls against me, crying again. Molly slips the paper into my pocket, whispering in my ear as she walks back to the kitchen.

"You need to show it to him."

"I will."

"Sherlock, lets go sit back down. Please."

He follows me back to the couch, though he lies on his stomach on the floor. I lie down so he can hold my hand, which he does.

"Make him go away."

"Sherlock, I can't."

"What did he bring?"

"Your coat."

"What else?"

I hand him the paper, trying to steady my shaking hand. He opens it, not seeming to actually see it.

"Call Mycroft. And Greg."

"Sherlock? How are you feeling?"

"Call them now John!"

Molly and Mrs. Hudson walk into the room, shocked that he is yelling so soon. He gets up as I am dialing Mycrofts cell, starts pacing the floor.

"What's going on John?"

"He's back."

"Whos back?"

"Moriarty."

"Bloody hell. Ill be right over. Did you call Greg yet?"

"No."

"Ill pick him up."

"Thank you."

"Keep him as calm as you can."

"We're trying."

He hangs up after cursing again, reminding me to keep a close eye on Sherlock. I look up, Sherlock is pissed. He grabs something off the table, a vase, and shatters it against the wall. Mrs. Hudson jumps back, but she is also the first to recover from the shock.