Ghost in This House (JohnLock AU)

The Mysterious John Watson

A/N Hey My Lovelies!!!! Here is another chapter!!! Be warned...you can't escape the angst!! *Maniacal Laugh* Love you guys!!! Enjoy <3

John woke up to find Greg sitting in the chair next to his bed.

"Hey Mate! How're you feeling?" John blinked against the harsh hospital lighting, pushing himself into a sitting position.

"G-Greg? W-What happened?"

"What do you remember?" John rubbed at his eyes, wincing as the I.V. in his hand pulled uncomfortably.

"I-I woke up, Sherlock wanted to talk. We were- oh God, Greg, where is he?" Greg stood, coming closer and placing a hand on John's shoulder. "God, he must feel so terrible. This wasn't his fault, I was already hungover- where is he Greg?"

"John-"

"He has to know this isn't his fault, right? Sherlock? Are you here Love?"

"John!" Greg shook John's shoulder gently, pulling his attention to his friend. "John, you need to calm down. Your heart can't take too much stress right now."

"M-My heart?"

"Yeah Mate, your heart stopped. You've been out for almost a week." John felt his chest tighten. He shook his head, breathing in shakily and feeling an uncomfortable weight on his lungs.

"W-Where's Sherlock? I-I need to talk to him."

"He's not here." John felt the panic rise in his chest again.

"Where is he?" Greg looked away, shifting uncomfortably. "Greg? What happened? Where's Sherlock?"

"Don't be mad John."

"Oh God, what did you do?"

"I cast a spell to bind flesh and spirit. He's upstairs in the private wing." John felt the crushing panic start to grow when Greg's face didn't light up. "John, he-"

"No. Please tell me he isn't-"

"No! No, he lived. In fact, he's awake."

"Then what's wrong?" Greg looked at John with something akin to pity, and John tried desperately to blink away the tears. There was only one other thing that could have gone wrong in the process and John prayed that wasn't what happened.

"John, he doesn't remember you."

Sherlock threw the tray of food after the orderly, shouting obscenities after the young man. He didn't want to be here. He was supposed to be dead.

"You chose this. You chose to live for John." Sherlock groaned, dropping his head back against the pillows. Since waking up, a voice kept speaking up from the back of his mind, talking endlessly about some mysterious man named John Watson that he supposedly loved.

"Shut up!" He growled, pulling violently at his curls and cursing his weak state. In the last twenty-four hours, he had already attempted to finish what he started last time, but that nagging voice in his head kept pulling him away from the brink. "If this John Watson is so in love with me, then why isn't he here?"

"Because we almost killed him you idiot. He's unconscious. And don't talk out loud, people will think you're mad."

"I shot up with enough heroin to kill a fucking horse, then threw myself off the roof of the hospital. They already think I'm mad." Sherlock glared at the I.V. line in his hand, debating on how stupid it would be to rip them out and try to run for it.

"You have been in a vegetative state for over a year. You would make it approximately-"

"Oh, shut up. Were you always this annoying?"

"Yep." Sherlock jumped when he heard a soft knocking at the door, looking around for something to throw. The door swung open to reveal a young man, sitting in a wheelchair that was being pushed by Gavin. "John! Oh my God! He's awake! We didn't kill him!" Sherlock winced as the voice in his head shouted at him. So, this was the mysterious John Watson.

"Who are you?"

"What the fuck are you doing?"

"Sherlock, this is John Watson, your-"

"Your new roommate." The man in the wheelchair cut Geoff off, offering Sherlock a pained smile. "I moved into Baker Street a few months ago, hope that's alright. I can move my stuff into the upstairs bedroom. Everything of yours is still there. Mrs. Hudson wouldn't let me throw anything out." Sherlock watched the young man in awe, not knowing how to process him.

"John? What is happening? He should remember me?"

"Don't be an idiot. Greg told him I have no memories of him so he is pretending to not know me so as not to overwhelm me."

"Yes, well, it's a pleasure to meet you Mr. Watson. There is no need for you to worry about moving your stuff, I have no intention of returning to the flat." Sherlock watched as John's face fell. The young man fidgeted uncomfortably and swiped his thumb over his nose.

"You're an idiot."

"Shut up."

"Right, well I'll see you at Baker Street then, Gorgeous." John winked and smirked at Sherlock, pulling a flush along his neck and face, before wheeling his way out of the room.

"And that is what it's like to get chatted up by John Watson."

"Shut up."

"Admit it, he's hot."

"I'm not talking to you anymore."

"You alright Sherlock?" George asked, looking between Sherlock and the door uncomfortably.

He could do little else but nod weakly, swallowing around the lump that was quickly forming in his throat.