Trigger warning - Very brief mentions of domestic abuse
Y/N's P.O.V.
"Y/N?" A voice asked and I turned my head to see John, who looked shocked to see me.
"You're here? I thought Mycroft had you running errands... wherever?"
"I'm back." I smiled weakly.
"And Sherlock's in trouble." John nodded.
"His room, it's this way." He led me down the hall.
"I came to say goodbye earlier. How are you back?"
"Mycroft called. I've done some things I'm not exactly proud of in the past few days, he threatened to have me arrested. Of course if he had told me Sherlock was trying his luck against Culverton Smith, he could have saved his breath." I muttered bitterly.
"You know him?" John seemed surprised.
"I've had the displeasure of meeting him once or twice." I muttered, before we reached the door, but it wouldn't open.
"Here, get out of the way." John muttered, picking up a fire extinguisher, before slamming it against the lock. Culverton Smith jumped away from Sherlock as we walked in and his eyes widened considerably when he saw me. I moved right for him and he stumbled back.
"Moran, I-"
"You remember my name, that's good." John started shouting at him, but all I saw was red as I hit the man hard. I grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled him up off of the ground.
A police officer came in and I shoved the serial killer towards him.
"Restrain him, and do it now before I kill him."
"Sherlock, what was he doing to you?" John asked as Smith continued to insist he was trying to help.
"Suffocating me. Overdosing me." Sherlock breathed heavily and I moved over to his side, frowning slightly.
"On what?" John asked and Sherlock looked at me sadly.
"Saline." Sherlock held out his hand to me and I helped him sit up.
"Saline? What do you mean Saline?" John asked in confusion, looking at the fluid bags.
"Well, obviously, I got Nurse Cornish to switch the bags. She's a big fan you know? Loves my blog." Sherlock smirked at John.
"You're okay, then?" I asked carefully amd John put his hand on my shoulder.
"No, of course I'm not okay. Malnourished, double kidney failure, and frankly, I've been off my tits for weeks. I thought you're supposed to be observant?" Sherlock laid back with a groan.
"I got my confession though."
"You know, if John hadn't already beaten the shit out of you, I'd do it myself." I muttered and he winked at me.
"Love you too." I shook my head as Smith struggled against the police officer.
"Well, I don't recall making any confession. What would I be confessing to?" Smith stuttered out, coming closer.
"You can listen to it later." Sherlock sighed.
"Well, there is no confession to listen to. Oh, Mr. Holmes, I don't know if this is relevant, but we found three potential recording devices in the pockets of your coat." Smith shrugged.
"All your possessions were searched, sorry."
"I have enough intel on you to put you in prison for the rest of your miserable life." I glared at him.
"Where's your evidence? It's your word against mine, Moran. Who's the duty going to believe? Me, an innocent man, or you, the ex girlfriend of the world's biggest criminal mastermind?" I stepped towards him, but Sherlock grabbed my wrist.
"There must be something comforting about the number three, people always give up after three." Sherlock muttered and my eyes widened. He looked at John expectantly.
"What? What is it? What?" John asked and Sherlock smirked, causing John to sigh.
"Oh, you cock."
"Yeah." Sherlock smiled.
"Utter, utter, cock." John repeated himself.
"Heard you the first time."Sherlock laid back, letting go of his hold on my wist, taking my hand instead. John picked up the walking stick, looking at it carefully.
"So how does it open?" He asked with a sigh and Sherlock grinned.
"Screw the top." I shook my head as John did as he said, pulling out a small recording device.
"Two weeks ago?"
"Three." Sherlock corrected.
"I'm that predictable?" John asked with a sigh.
"No." Sherlock shook his head.
"I'm just a cock." He looked at Smith, who looked terrified and I waved as he was dragged away by the police officer. John laughed a little and I sat on the edge of the bed.
"You're one crazy son of a bitch, you know that?" I looked at Sherlock, before kissing his head.
"So, Y/N, back off to Romania, for you, I suppose?" Sherlock asked.
"Someone has to keep killing the bad guys." I frowned at that statement.
"No." I sighed.
"That's someone else's job now. I don't want to do that anymore."
"Well, what do you want to do?" John asked and I sighed.
"I want to go home, to Baker Street." I laughed a little.
"I'm exhausted."
"Sounds like a plan." John nodded.
"Sherlock?"
"I best stay here and actually recover." Sherlock mumbled.
"I don't actually have plans to die anytime soon."
"Yeah, I'd prefer it if you didn't do that. Who's gonna play the violin at stupid hours of the morning?" I joked and Sherlock smiled.
"John, give us a minute?" I asked and he nodded, letting me know he'd wait outside.
"You're upset with me." Sherlock spoke after a moment of silence.
"I'm not upset, I'm pissed off. I really am glad you and John are talking again, but why did you have to ignore my calls? Why couldn't you respond to my texts? I was worried." He sighed heavily, frowning.
"Mary left me a video." He spoke after a moment.
"She had a feeling John would hate me after she died. After all, I did vow to protect her. She asked me to save John- you can watch the video. It's in the DVD player at home. To save John I had to make him save me."
"You had to go off the rails. You had to make him believe that if he didn't save you, no one else would." I began to piece the puzzle together.
"Mycroft was in on this, wasn't he? That's why he was so insistent on me leaving the country."
"Yes, well neither of us were expecting you to go on a killing spree." I glared at him slightly.
"I only killed the bad people." Sherlock raised an eyebrow.
"... and the two guys that tried to slip something in my drink at the bar. And the guy who owned one of the hotel's I was staying in. But you could argue they were bad people too."
"The hotel manager?" Sherlock asked.
"Hit his wife." He nodded his head slowly. There was a moment of silence between us.
"I missed you." Sherlock admitted and I couldn't stop the small smile that tugged at my lips.
"I missed you too."
