I was getting discharged today along with John, and the last thing they needed was to do a mental health check on me.
"Sherlock Holmes, is it?" A woman with red hair and brown eyes asked, sitting across from me. "Yes." I answer. "My name is Barbra Wilter's, I'm a psychiatric therapist. I am going to ask you a few questions, and run a few tests, is that alright?" "Yes." I answered.  "Ok, we'll start off easy, how are you feeling?"

Don't trust her

She knows what's inside you

She can see through your lies

She is evil

"I'm grand." I answer calmly. She takes a few notes and study's my face. "Alright, can you name a few close friends?" I pause. I don't really have friends or anyone I would want to be my friend outside of Watson.

Because you have no chance of getting any

And everyone hates you

Do the world a favor and kill your self.

Kill yourself

Kill yourself

Kill yourself

"Shut up!" I scream. The lady looks at me surprised. "Excuse me?" I snap back into reality and see her confused face. "I'm terribly sorry, you'll have to excuse me." I say rushing out of the room.

~

Finally, after a long week of questioning and recovering, I was discharged. I had been diagnosed with schizophrenia, which is bullshit. The first thing I do when I get back to my apartment is check to see what I've missed at my job, since they wouldn't let me work at the hospital.  They also prescribed me one hundred milligrams of seriquil per day, 50 in the morning and 50 before bed. Then another pill for my back pain from the crash. I sit at my desk, pull up my work website and log in. I didn't miss too much just 2 murder cases. I am so exhausted, but there is work to be done.

I hear a knock on the door. "Sherlock?" I hear Watson say. "Come in." I reply. He comes in and stands behind me. "You should take it easy-" "I've told you before Watson, I'm practically married to my job." I say cutting him off not even looking up. He pauses for a second before speaking again.  "I understand that, but you just got out of the hospital an-" "And I missed two murder cases that will be coming off my pay check." I say cutting him off once again. "Stop cutting me off!" He says a bit angry. I sigh and roll my eyes turning to face him closing my laptop. "What do you want Watson?" "I needed to talk to you." "About what?" He pauses for a second like he doesn't know himself. "About you and I."

I sigh and sit next to him on my bed. "You have my undivided attention." He looks me in the eyes and I stare back blankly. He looks down, a bit ashamed and softly says, "Am I the reason?" I was confused. "Reason for what exactly?" "Your cutting." I felt as if someone smashed a hammer into my gut. It must of shown on my face because Watson looked genuinely upset.  "Don't be ridiculous. Of course not." He had a sigh of relief. "Why would you think that?" I ask. "I don't know, I just thought you... Sherlock I-" he stopped. "Why did you stop speaking?" "Never mind, this was a bad idea." He quickly got up to leave and I grabbed him by his wrist making him freeze in place. He turned to me and I looked him in the eye making him turn a deep shade of red. Then it was like something clicked.

The way he blushed

All the countless times he tried to impress me

The moments when he put me before him

How he cared.

He liked me. And not as a friend, he liked me as something more. And it had been so obvious that everyone could see it except for me. And it was impulse that acted next. I pulled Watson towards me hard and kissed him. He was shocked at first but then kissed back with passion. Then a whole new feeling exploded into me. It was possessive and rough, but happy and free. Nothing had ever made me feel this way, and I realized in this moment that I, Sherlock Holmes, had experienced love

For none other than John Watson.