Two Years Gone

Leaving

*Sherlock POV*

"And I'm not sure if you can hear me, or if you're even awake yet, but I'm sorry. I'm so sorry Sherlock."

Mycroft is on the other side of the wall, crying silently as he talks to me. I try to move, yelping when my body responds and I can feel the pain return to me.

"Sherlock?"

"Mycroft? Youre still here?"

"Yes. Are you alright?"

I pull myself up, cursing when the movement of sitting up sends my head spinning and a wave of nausea washes over me. I'm able to fight it off, inhaling deeply.

"Sherlock?"

"Stop."

"Please."

"This is your fucking fault! You let him do this to me!"

"Sherlock-"

"You had no right to come here! I was fine until you fucking got on the plane and flew out here to get us killed!"

I keep screaming at him, stopping only when I hurt myself to the point of nearly passing out again.

"Sherlock, stop it. Please, your hurting yourself."

"Isn't this what you wanted? You wanted this!"

He goes silent again, letting me scream at him for about half an hour before I curl up and finally let myself cry. Everything hurts, my left leg entirely numb. I sit up again, forcing myself to pull the leg of my trousers up and inspect the damage. Instantly, I push them back down, barely rolling onto my side before I throw up. It hurts, bile burning the back of my throat.

"Sherlock, calm down. Please."

"Fuck off."

The insult is hollow, lacking the venom from earlier. I drag myself from the centre of the room back into the corner where Mycroft is on the other side of the wall, leaning against it and lifting my hand slowly to find the loose board again.

"Are you alright?"

I don't respond, struggling to loosen the board. Mycroft helps, pulling it up far enough to stick his hand through.

"Shhh...its alright. You're okay. You need to relax, alright? I dont want you hurting yourself any more than we already have."

"You dont care, you never did."

I let him grab my hand, unwilling to admit that is what I wanted since I woke up. He gently rubs circles along the back of my hand, talking softly to me until I calm down.

"Are you okay now?"

"Yes."

Mycroft flinches, letting go of my hand and pushing the board back in place. His door opens a few seconds later, just as the board snaps back into place. I can hear Moriarty step in, Mycroft shifting slowly away from the board.

"You're up early, wonder why."

I stay quiet, shifting enough to move the board again and watch them.

"Why did you come here?"

"We're starting this again? Already?"

"Its this, or you will shoot him."

"And if I object?"

"Then we'll see how long he can hold his breath. What do you think, will the cold kill him before he drowns?"

"Depends. How about we try it with a less...apt to die subject."

"Such as?"

"Could start with your little pet."

"Oh, I need that one. Although, youre right. We should try it. Zach, go get Sherlock."

I jump back, letting the board fall back into place and scrambling away from the wall. Zack throws the door open, walking slowly towards me. He drags me up by the back of my shirt, pulling me into the main room and dropping me.

"Hes out here sir."

"To the cars. Let them ride in the back seat together."

"Yes sir."

Zach hauls me up again, forcing my weight onto my feet and pushing me forward. I collapse after a few steps, screaming as I pitch forward. Moriarty opens Mycrofts door, pushing him towards us.

"Fucking hell. Get up Sherlock."

"Leave me alone."

"Get up."

"No."

I can hardly speak, blinding pain still shooting through my body.

"Get him into the car."

Moriarty shoves Mycroft towards me, who picks me up and supports me on my good leg. I lean against him, unable to hide the pain with every step we take.

"Keep going. We're almost there, I promise."

I bite my lip, nodding as we continue going. Moriarty opens the car, pushing me inside. I fall hard, yelling as my leg is dragged on the edge of the door. Mycroft gets in quickly, pulling me up onto the seat. I instantly latch onto his side, seeking some small comfort as I try to keep from blacking out.