A Book Comes to Life Club
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posted by AislingYJ
Just a one-shot I wrote today because I was bored. Fandom is Sherlock, and it's set during Reichenbach. Semi-AU. Warning: death. Oh and it's stream-of-consciousness, which is why it seems kind of jumbled and fragmented.
Agony. Burning. Heat of a million flames. Panic. Pain.
I'm here.
Sherlock. I'm here.
Struggling to open my eyes, blinking out the blood seeping into my vision. Fiery pain, pain everywhere. Easier to keep them closed.
I'm here, Sherlock. I'm here.

Sweat, blood, dirt, become one with the shrieking agony. I'm ready to give up, to end this all, but my body is still struggling. Just causes thêm pain. Can't my damn tim, trái tim just stop?
Stay with me, Sherlock. Please. Stay with me.
Right. That's why it won't stop yet. John.
It's all wrong. Everything has gone wrong. I wasn't supposed to fall, not like this. There was--a truck...supposed to land on the truck. How did I miscalculate? And John wasn't supposed to get here. Bike was supposed to hit him, slow him down. Would make it easier if he's not here, holding my broken body...the doctors...where did they go?
Sherlock...Sherlock, look at me. Sherlock, don't leave me. Sh-Sherlock...
No--I can't...Bleeding out. Darkness.

Why...why does it still hurt? Numb. Open my eyes, but I can't see. Can't feel. Can barely hear...it's all muffled. Static?
I think I'm in a hospital...
I don't think he can hear me. He might be holding me---I might be on a bed--can't feel anything. I sense him. Please end this.
Sherlock, they can save you. You'll be okay. Don't leave me.
Waiting to die. Waiting for my body to give up. Don't--don't save me. I can't be saved. This has to end. I need this to end.
Pain. Beeping. tim, trái tim monitor? thêm pain. I don't know if John's still there. Cold. Heat.
Sherlock. Please.
I'm losing my hearing now too. Cold. Dying, I hope. Nothing left but my mind. That'll be gone too. Numb.
Empty. Jumbled. Nothing makes sense. Pain.
Can't sort out my thoughts anymore.
Holocaust? What? Fabric coming undone, mind palace crumbling, facts everywhere.
1976. What happened then? 18 million corpses. Gravestones. Zoo? Gorilla...gorilla enclosure. Mycroft.
Jupiter...solar system. Thought I deleted that.
Shut up Anderson.
Shock...blanket. Cold war. Triple...Triple Alliance? Queen of England...crumpets. Evacuate. Biohazard. Dysfunctional.
Afghanistan. Lotus, Black Lotus. Brick wall, they're pushing me. Trains. Bones. Skull. The skull.
Pink, scarlet. Phone. Yellow paint. Tea...teapots. Antique. Circus. Game. Bomb. Woman. Sheets...cat. Airplane, bodies. Hound.
White walls, white lights. Ears? Painting. Cuff links. Jail, trial. Code...Morse Code. Building. Screaming...maybe that's my own.
Apple. IOU. Angels. Wings. Blood. Pain.
1492? Tape...Monkey, phone box. Fez?
Agony. Numb. Cold. Dark. Kill me.
Numbers. Binary. Kill me.
Gray eyes, dark. Blonde hair, sagging skin. Kill me.
Tears. Sweat. Pain. Kill me.
Life hurts, everything hurts. Black eyes, gray eyes, blue eyes. Kill me.
Taxi...taxi cab. Gun. Flames. Blood. Kill me.
Kill me.
Kill me.
Kill me.
Kill me.
Kill me.
Kill me.