A Collection of Shorts

What He Forgot

"Can I see him?" Sherlock asked weakly.

The doctor nodded again.

"Yes, of course. But be prepared. He may not recognize you."

Sherlock followed the doctor to John's room. He saw him lying on the bed, hooked up to various machines and tubes. His face was pale and bruised, his eyes closed, his hair matted with blood. He looked like a stranger. The scene clawed Sherlock's heart. He hated himself.

Sherlock approached him slowly, as if afraid to scare him away. He reached out and touched his hand gently.

"John," he whispered.

There was no response.

"John," he repeated louder.

Still nothing.

"John!" he shouted desperately.

John opened his eyes slowly. He blinked and looked around confusedly. He saw Sherlock and frowned.

"Who are you?" he asked.

Sherlock never expected that three words could turn his life upside down. Three words that would tear his heart apart. Three words. Three words!

"It's me, Sherlock," he said softly. "Your friend."

John shook his head slowly.

"I don't know you," he said flatly.

Sherlock felt tears sting his eyes.

"Yes, you do," he insisted. "We've been friends for years. We live together at 221B Baker Street. We solve crimes together."

John shook his head again.

"I'm sorry if my memory doesn't live up to your expectation. I don't remember any of that," he said coldly.

Sherlock felt a surge of anger.

"How can you not remember?" he snapped. "We've been through so much together! We've faced Moriarty, Magnussen, Eurus! We've saved each other's lives countless times! We've shared secrets and jokes and stories! We've been through hell and back!"

John stared at Sherlock calmly. "If anyone should be crying or yelling, don't you think it should be me? You don't know what it's like to wake up not knowing anything."

"Surely you know something!" Sherlock begged. "Please, try to remember. You're my friend. You're my best friend. You're my only friend. You're the only person who matters to me."

"I'm sorry." John replied quietly. "All I know is my name. I don't remember anything at all about myself. I don't remember my family. I don't remember you."

"You must remember me!" Sherlock whispered in despair. Surely John could not forget him! They had shared flats for years, gone through so many adventures......

John looked at Sherlock pityingly.

"I'm sorry." He said quietly. "I don't remember. You're a stranger to me. And you're making me very uncomfortable."

John freed his hand from Sherlock's grasp and looked away.

"Please leave me alone." John said.

Sherlock felt a tear roll down his cheek. He got up and walked out of the room, feeling like he had just lost everything.

Maybe he had.

"Hello."

John lifted his head from the hospital bed. He recognized that voice. It belonged to Molly Hooper, who came to visit him regularly for the two months that he had been staying at the hospital. According to the nurses, Molly was somewhat of a friend of John's.