What the color of her eyes were and her scars or how she got them
It’s been two years since the death of Sherlock; since the death of her lover. Agony has taken its toll on the woman. How she wouldn’t eat at all. How she barely slept with the memory replaying in her head every night. How she sanity shattered constantly to the brink of suicide only to be cut short by John and Mary. How every night she took a blade and cut her own wrists.
As the telling signs of age rain down a single tear is dropping
Through the valleys of an aging face that this world has forgotten
The consulting detective never thought of how much he had hurt her. Not until she walked out the door without a word leaving him standing alone in the middle of the living room. She didn’t see that one tear drop that fell down his sharp cheekbone.
There is no reconciliation that will put me in my place
And there is no time like the present to drink these draining seconds
She’s been gone for a while, trying to clear her mind. That was until her mobile rang with John’s number flashing at her (e/c) eyes.
“Hey, John,” she answered.
“(y/n),” she heard through the receiver. “You better get down here and pick up Sherlock.”
“Why? Where are you guys?”
There was a long and frustrated sigh from the other line.
But seldom do these words ring true when I'm constantly failing you
Like walls that we just can't break through until we disappear
“I was on a CASE, John!”
Of course he wasn’t. Sherlock couldn’t get the image of his lover’s crushed face out of his mind. His mind palace were just filled with her grieving. The coke was the only thing to slow his mind down...because he felt like there was nothing left.
So tell me now
If this ain't love then how do we get out?
Because I don't know
The heels of her boots clicked against the concrete floor of the trashed area. A number of teens laying on the floor in a daze. That’s when she saw him on the ground.
“Sherlock…” she said under her breath.
He tumbled on his side to see her. Gray met (e/c) as his eyes shook, afraid of what she might say or do. Afraid of his own emotions.
That's when she said I don't hate you boy
I just want to save you while there's still something left to save (whoa, whoa)
She ran to him with open arms and fell on her knees into a loving embrace in her loving detective arms. Just right then, the waterworks started to flood both their eyes.
“I don’t hate you for what you’ve done,” she whispered in his ear. “I can never hate you. Let me save you from yourself.”
That's when I told her I love you girl
But I'm not the answer for the questions that you still have (whoa, whoa)
“I can’t be the answer for every problem you have,” the drugged up detective responded. “I just cause them….”
“I don’t care! You don’t have to solve all your cases including mine! Let’s just be there for each other.”
“I love you.”
DISCLAIMER: I do not own any of the characters. They belong to Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, and the BBC version by Steven Moffat and Mark Gatiss.
Song and lyrics is "Savior" by Rise Against.
☆*ﾟ ゜ﾟ*☆*ﾟ ゜ﾟ*☆
My very first song fic.
I wasn’t in the greatest of moods last night, so I felt like writing something kinda down.
I was playing my bass last night when I decided to play this song (I love Rise Against~!), and this just popped in my head randomly. It’s only the first part of the song, but it still works for me.
Let’s just say, this scene mixed with this song just felt me exhilarated to the point I rocked out like no other.