***
Sherlock’s head dropped to his chest, blood dripping down the
side of his face from a cut in his brow. Slowly his eyes closed and the Detective stopped talking.
“Sherlock? Sherlock, wake up.” John called. “Stay with me
mate. You promised.”
Sherlock’s head didn’t move, showing no sign that he heard John.
“For God’s sake Sherlock! Wake up!” He shouted. “You’ve
tried every substance imaginable, this can’t be that bad.” He grumbled under his breath.
“Do you regret me quitting?” Sherlock’s voice drifted over
to John as the Detective’s head lulled to the side. His eyes were shut tight,
his fists holding tightly to the arms of the chair to which he was bound.
“Not even for one second.” John exhaled relieved. “Thank God
you’re alright.”
“I’m conscious John, but alright
is a significant over exaggeration of my condition.” He said in his usual 'I'm bored with idiots' tone.
***
-Brandolyn
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