A/N Hey My Lovelies!!! This is it!! the final chapter!!! Hope you guys liked this one!!! It's been fun to write. Keep your eyes open for my next AU book....not 100% what it's going to be yet...but its gonna be good ;) Enjoy<3
John was pacing anxiously in the halls.
He had been kicked out of the room when Sherlock's heart monitors started wailing, and no one was telling him anything. He asked every nurse that came from the direction of Sherlock's room if he could see his friend, but since he wasn't family, they wouldn't talk to him. He called Greg, hoping he could convince him to call Mycroft.
"John? What's going on?"
"Sherlock's in the hospital."
"Jesus. What happened?"
"He- he tried to- h-his wrists-"
"Fuck mate. Is he okay?"
"I don't know. He was unconscious, then the machines started screaming and they kicked me out. They won't let me back in and they won't tell me anything-"
"Alright, hang tight. I'm with Mycroft now, we'll be there in twenty minutes."
"Thank you, Greg."
"No worries Mate." John hung up the phone and dropped heavily into a chair, growling and tugging at his hair. He wanted to be with Sherlock, sitting by his side until he woke. He wanted to be there when the young man came to.
A sudden commotion further down the hall drew his attention.
"Get out!" A familiar voice shouted, the sound followed shortly by a crashing sound. A pair of nurses stumbled out of the room, ducking as a tray of food hit the wall above their heads. "Let me out of here!" John rose to his feet, knowing he couldn't do anything, but ready just in case.
The thin frame of Sherlock Holmes staggered out of the room, pulling tubes and wires out of his hands and wrists. The nurses reached for him, but he brushed them off, shouting obscenities and throwing weak punches.
"Sherlock!" He shouted, stepping towards the angry young man. Sherlock froze, spinning to find John. He saw him and grinned, a bright smile that looked out-of-place on his pale, lifeless face.
"John!" He tried running forward, but tripped over his own feet and stumbled, nearly falling. John shot forward, catching the pile of limbs before he could hit the floor.
"Jesus Mate, what the fuck are you thinking? You lost almost all your blood, you shouldn't be up-"
"You weren't there." John gaped up at the man, not fully comprehending what he was saying.
"W-What- what?"
"I woke up and you weren't there. I-I had to find you." John's heart began racing at those words, his head spinning and hope causing his chest to swell.
"Sher- Sherlock-"
"You dated him for three months, you would go to coffee shops, and the library. You hunted for a way to bring him back, then when you finally figured it out, you wound up with me and I broke your heart." John sighed, Sherlock knew the memories, but didn't have the emotions that went with them. At least he remembered who John was.
"We need to get you back to bed-" Sherlock grabbed his face with more strength than he should have had, and pulled him up for a kiss.
He was kissing Sherlock Holmes. In real life, the real Sherlock Holmes, and he was too stunned to respond.
"His touch would make your heart race dangerously due to the electricity it took to sustain him, but you ignored the pain and kept kissing him." John knew he must look like a fool, but all he could do was nod and gape. "When you collapsed, he wanted nothing more than to help you, to try to restart your heart so he wouldn't lose you. But he was the one that stopped your heart and it almost killed him knowing that he had killed you."
"I-I didn't die-"
"Let me finish John." Sherlock snapped, rolling his eyes in a way that was purely Sherlock Holmes. "When I woke up, I was angry, hurt, and confused. I had a voice in the back of my head screaming at me that I had fallen in love with someone I'd never met. All I knew, was that I had failed in killing myself and was now missing a year of my life, a third of which belonged to a faceless man I apparently loved." John was fighting back tears and could see that Sherlock was doing the same.
"Sir, you have to-" A nurse attempted to guide Sherlock back to his room, but was waved off by the weak man.
"Shut up! I'm in the middle of something!" He snapped, sending her a dark glare before turning his attention back to John.
"Sherlock, she's right-" John tried, but was cut off by one of Sherlock's cold fingers.
"I'm not a good man, John Watson, not by a long shot. But, for some reason, you seem to love me. I have abused you, hurt you, nearly killed you, and you still insist on loving me." Uncertainty filled his features and he pulled his finger away from John's lips. "I-I mean- y-you did- I don't want to assume-" John grinned and grabbed the back of Sherlock's neck, pulling him closer until their lips were just barely touching.
"Don't you dare." John whispered before closing the gap between them and finally kissing the man he had loved for so long.
There was no surge of power. No crackle of electricity between them. There was just the soft, slow slide of lips and the warm, firm press of Sherlock's body against his. This was right, but something was nagging at the back of his mind. He broke the kiss and looked at Sherlock, instantly remembering what was wrong.
Sherlock was incredibly pale and swaying slightly on his feet.
"Will you please lie down now?"
"No! I'm fine-" Sherlock's eyes rolled back into his head and he fell into John's arms, nearly knocking the shorter man over.
"Yep. Yeah, alright. Little help over here?" Nurses came to his aid and helped him carry a very unconscious Sherlock Holmes back to bed.
It took almost a month for Sherlock to fully recover, and John stayed by his side the whole time.
When he was finally cleared to go home, John had to fight to get the whiny man out of the building without pissing off the entire staff.
"Sherlock, just walk away Babe."
"But John, this is a travesty! They completely misspelled my name, and three of the numbers on my contact list aren't even active anymore!"
"So correct the info and let it go." He pressed close to the taller man's side and leaned up, brushing his lips against Sherlock's ear. "I'm more than a little anxious to get home." He whispered darkly in his lover's ear, feeling the lanky man tense against him.
"J-John-"
"Ready Gorgeous?" John quipped, sneaking his hand under Sherlock's heavy coat and pinching his arse, giggling when the man jumped. Sherlock blushed and glared at him, furiously scribbling at the page before slamming the clipboard down on the counter.
"You are going to be the death of me John Watson." He grumbled as he turned to leave. John laughed and grabbed Sherlock's arm, clinging to it like a sloth clinging to a tree. He loved being able to touch Sherlock without fear of his heart stopping, and he was taking full advantage of it.
"Well, you've already almost killed me once, I'd say you owe me." As soon as the words left his mouth, he regretted saying them. Sherlock hesitated, almost stopping fully as John scrambled to try to come up with a way to retract the words. "N-No, no Babe, I'm sorry. That was stupid, I-I shouldn't have said that-" Sherlock chewed at his bottom lip and frowned, still far too tense. John pulled him to a stop and gripped the taller man's hip tightly, pulling him close. "Hey, hey look at me Love." Sherlock blinked down at him, meeting his eyes almost reluctantly. John slid one hand up to rest against his cheek, holding his gaze and smiling softly.
"I'm sorry John-"
"No, stop that. You have nothing to be sorry for Love. We've already talked about this. It was my fault, I knew something was wrong and I didn't say anything." He pulled Sherlock's face closer so their lips were just barely touching. "Besides, we never have to worry about that again." He closed the gap between their lips and kissed Sherlock, a slow, deep kiss that left his knees more than a little weak. Sherlock whimpered softly as he broke the kiss, fighting to keep his breathing steady.
"J-John?"
"Yes Love?"
"I-I love you." John's heart swelled at those words. Up until then, Sherlock had only ever said that the ghost Sherlock loved John, this was the first time he had worded it like that. John leaned up and kissed him again, pouring every ounce of emotion he felt into the kiss. "I love you." Sherlock whispered between kisses. "I love you so much."
"God, you're perfect."
"I love you."
"I love you too, you great big, loveable idiot." Sherlock grinned, leaning down and nuzzling into John's neck, giggling against his collar. "Can we please go home now? I've been waiting for far too long to actually go to bed with you, and I don't want to wait any longer." Sherlock nodded and extracted himself from John's arms, smiling brightly down at him.
Sherlock stepped away to hail a cab and John watched with unbridled love.
When they finally got home, John stood in the middle of 221B Baker Street, looking around and feeling his heart flutter. Sherlock stepped up behind him and wrapped his arms around his waist, pressing soft kisses against the skin of his neck.
He finally had his ghost back, for real this time.
"Welcome home Love."