"Lestrade, shock blankets, now!" I could hear Sherlock's panicked shout resound through the freezer. His voice sounded so far away from where I lay curled up. I could feel the vibrations peoples' feet caused from where I was at the corner of the room.
I think Moriarty had gotten to me again. Wait, yeah, he did. I don't remember a whole lot of everything that had happened. I know Sherlock and I had fought and I had left. I think that's when Moriarty captured me.
I could feel the bitter cold from the cement floor him my limbs, especially in my bad shoulder. As far I could tell I was not wearing any clothing. I knew I had the first stages of hypothermia, maybe even further than that. How long had I even been in there already?
I felt the sting of whip marks and burns all across my body as a shock blanket was placed over me. I probably looked so pathetic lying there, beaten, bloodied, and broken.
I didn't want to open my eyes. I didn't want to move. Was it Sherlock wrapping the shock blanket around me? I felt so humiliated. I didn't want anyone to see me like this, especially Sherlock.
"John," Sherlock's calmed voice called to me as his hands stroked over my hair, "John open your eyes," the words coaxed. I squeezed them tighter together, wanting to huddle into myself and block out the world. Sherlock did not let that happen.
He lifted me off the ground and into his arms, keeping the shock blankets securely around me so no one could see my nakedness. I could feel myself trembling against him and now I could hear my teeth chattering. I could hear more voices now, those of which including Lestrade, Anderson, and Donovan.
Sherlock carried me all the way into what I assumed was an ambulance before loading me up onto the stretcher. I reached out with my hand blindly, wanting him to take hold of it. He grasped onto it quickly and held on tightly. He was wearing his gloves.
"…lock," my voice rasped out. My throat burned when I spoke and I could feel the bruising on my windpipe. How many more injuries did I have? I could feel my body start to warm off and all the pain begin to break through the numbness.
Sherlock did not respond, so I forced myself to speak again. "Sherlock," my voice cracked. God that hurt. Whenever I tried to speak I felt like thousands of razor blades were trying the force their way out. The EMT's were working around my body to hook me up to this and that.
"I love you," Sherlock whispered, his mouth placed next to my ear so I could hear him. I opened my eyes to look up into his. What I saw I could only describe in a poetic way.
Those beautiful, slivery green-blue eyes bore into mine. His pupils were dark and blown wide, reigned in by the churning teal sea. Silver specks mingled in with the sea of color, growing greener towards the pit of black. Tears gathered at the corners, placing a light sheen over Sherlock's eyes. His eyelashes were moist and brushed against the dark colored bags under his eyes when he blinked.
I could see a thousand different words in those eyes. 'I'm sorry. I love you. Are you okay? I want you safe. Why did you leave? I'm stupid. I hate myself. I wish this never happened. Why did he do this? Why you? Why not me? It hurts. I missed you.'
"People always have so many chances to say goodbye," Sherlock sniffled and rapidly blinked, his voice full of emotion, "and I never had the chance to."
I could hear the anguish in his words as he spoke. I could feel his hand tightening its grip around my own. I could feel his tears, hot and wet, dripping down onto my own face as they spilled over his eyes. I could hear the shuddering breaths he took to try and remain calm. I could feel his body shaking next to mine. I could feel his heart breaking in a way that only made mine fall apart as well. He really thought he had lost me.
"I don't ever want to let go again John," his words broke through my thoughts. He sounded like he was in so much pain, like he was feeling so much hurt because of me, "I can't bear to lose you. You're the only one I've ever let in. The only one I've ever let see me at my strongest and at my weakest. You're the only one I've ever let myself truly care about and trust. You're the only one John," Sherlock sobbed out, resting his head against mine.
I felt my own tears stream down from my eyes and mingle with his as they continued falling down. My heart ached to see him like this. I couldn't do anything to make it better. I couldn't stop his tears from falling. I couldn't even promise him that I'd never leave.
I lay there as he continued to shudder and lament, feeling my heart crack further and further until it finally shattered and I could not help but cling onto him and break down.
I remembered lying there, shuddering on the floor of the cooler as the whip struck me, thinking that I'd never see Sherlock again. That I'd never be able to apologize for everything. Even when Moriarty chided me and sang out that I would never be saved, I could only think about never having been able to apologize to Sherlock.
"I'm sorry," I choked out, not caring about the pain, only caring about the man in my arms. The man who could outlive God by having the last word. The man who saved me from my loneliness. The man who saved my life hundreds of times over. The man who held my whole entire world up and kept me from falling into space.