Sherlock laughed darkly. “I’m a terrible boyfriend.” Which they had both known going into things. Which hadn’t stopped either of them. “Even knowing that the issue was with the thought process, I still thought I could reason a way out of this and—well—congratulations to me for making things worse for you. I’m almost starting to believe I deserve this.” He smirked with self deprecation, tugging again at John’s shirt. It was so, so easy to hurt the man who usually guarded his heart quite well. John wasn’t a heart-sleeve sort of man but honesty buckled when faced with itself. John could not protect people from himself, could not harm someone he loved to defend himself, and could not make medical miracles happen. Sherlock and the event both proved to be a masterful team when it came to breaking John’s heart.
He tugged on John to remain near, leaning into him with a sigh as his muscles relaxed after a string of spasms. “I’m tired, John,” he admitted. “Sedatives maybe already in my system. Maybe more. Can’t tell the difference. Different from my last overdose. Cocaine was kinder, honestly.”
no subject
He tugged on John to remain near, leaning into him with a sigh as his muscles relaxed after a string of spasms. “I’m tired, John,” he admitted. “Sedatives maybe already in my system. Maybe more. Can’t tell the difference. Different from my last overdose. Cocaine was kinder, honestly.”