“Hello, John.”
“Holy Christ—”
“Well, not quite. But I have risen from the dead, as you can see.”
John’s knees began give way. He reached out to support himself against the cold, solid brick wall. He had to force his eyes to focus on the man smiling down at him.
He had to force himself to breathe.
“H-how…” he managed to gasp out.
Sherlock’s grin broadened, and his head tilted a bit more to the side. “Would it matter if I couldn’t explain? Or if I refused to explain? I wonder. You’ve been so very loyal all this time. I’ve seen the posters, the “Believe in Sherlock” graffiti; I’ve heard how little you’ve focused on anything else.”
Now the blood was pounding in John’s ears.
It began to throb in his neck, and his chest, and lower…
“What the hell is going on, Sher-” John choked back the name. He hadn’t said it aloud for so long. “What … How can you be here? What’s happening?”
“Think of it as an experiment, John,” Long, elegant fingers reached out and brushed against John’s stubbled jawline. “Think of it as a study in your devotion. You recall the story of Job in the Bible? Satan wagered that God’s servant would not remain loyal after enduring the worst form of torment. Well, I have made such a wager over you, over your loyalty to me. In our wager, Mycroft took on the role of Satan. Not much of a stretch for him, really.”
Shivering, John took a step back. “No. No, this isn’t you.”
“Oh, I can assure you that it is, John. And now begins your test in earnest. Will come back to Baker Street with me, no questions answered, no explanations given? Will you take me back into your life, knowing how much I’ve hurt you, how much I’ve intentionally, deeply hurt you, and knowing that I might hurt you again in the future?”
Hot tears stung in John’s eyes. He balled up his fists, ready to strike out at the arrogant, cruel bastard. Ready to lash out, retaliate after being used like this.
“Tell me,”Sherlock purred, leaning closer,” Do I win, John?” .
John couldn’t move. Couldn’t speak.
And then he heard his own voice answer softly, “Yes. Yes, Sherlock. You win.”
******
John awoke with a start, panting and sweating.
Tears were streaming down his face.
“God,…” he sobbed.
I love crazy dark Sherlock so much. I like to pretend this story is a flashback rather than a dream. ^_^