Fixated

{POV Switch}

What is that infuriating babbling? Dear lord, shut up, whatever or whoever you are. I’m trying to get some god forsaken sleep here, oh for heaven’s sake... Can’t you see my eyes are clearly not open? “Sherlock? Sherlock!” I vaguely felt a pressure on my shoulders...Oh. It appeared I was now being shaken vigorously. I begrudgingly opened my eyes, which was not an easy task at all, I might add, seeing as my eyelids felt as if they’d been plastered together. The first sight that was bestowed upon me as my eyesight returned to normal, was John’s irksome face looming over me...and it appeared that I was on the floor. Oh.
“Christ, John... Wha- isit?” I managed to slur, exasperatedly. “Can’t you see Joh- I’m try’n to sleep. Ver- tire…” I felt my eyes closing slowly again; I had no objections.

Freezing, ice water drenched my face and torso and I quickly regained lucidity and bolted upright. “Really, John?!” John let out a drawn out sigh of relief.
“Look at the state of you, you’re a wreck, Sherlock. This is the third time in a week I’ve found you on the floor unsure if you’re alive!”
“Oh boo-hoo, I have informed you a million times already. I am fine. I’m always fine. No need to concern your simple, little head.” I stood up and shook the water out of my hair.
I slid my hand towards the empty syringe and tourniquet; as an attempt to inconspicuously gather my collection of strewn out drug paraphernalia.
“Don’t even bother, Sherlock. You becoming a fully fledged junkie again is hardly a government grade secret. I am fully aware and I think this is ridiculous- I worry about you, can’t you see?” John continued; showing absolutely no signs of silencing himself. As I hauled myself up off of the floor, I shot a piercing look at him.
“Well...I’d extremely appreciate it... if you stopped worrying and started helping me sort out these case files...we’re really behind on them.”
“We’re?!” John threw up his arms exasperatedly, “No, YOU are behind on everything because you’re throwing a stupid hissy fit over a woman. You’re acting like a child! A child that injects heroin when they don’t get their own way, mind you.”
“Don’t be foolish. A woman can’t possibly have anything to do with my long-term opiate habit.”
“I get it, you’re upset, she’s disappeared and you were fond of her.. you are only human after all. It’s natural!”
I turned my back to John and stepped into my bedroom, firmly closing the door behind me; I wanted to hear no more of his drivel.

A few hours had passed and my productivity levels were next to none, I hadn’t looked through a single potential case file, I hadn’t done anything really...bar lay on top of my bed with a pounding migraine and constant, relaying thoughts of her. It was all a load of nonsense, I passed it all off due to my imminent heroin addiction creeping up on me again like an old friend. It surely had to be affecting my mood and thoughts...that’s what usually happened, I suppose? But my god, did I miss her. And by her, I mean heroin. I missed everything about it. I must have taken my last hit at around 3pm and I have absolutely no recollection of anything until John’s rude awakening at around 10pm. It didn’t matter, some days it was hard to cope with my own mind, not that I’d ever admit that to anyone. Now, I have no idea how a simple human’s mind operates, but statistics show that even degenerates of society with IQ’s of around 80 depend on opiates to slow their thoughts down and escape reality. So being myself, it’s justified really. In all honesty, I simply hated the fact my mind circulated around Laura Grey constantly, while furthermore working on full overdrive at the same time. I couldn’t seem to control it, so I knew what I had to do. My mind was never built for feelings, there is very little- if any- space for emotion in there...so something had to give.

I heard a faint knocking at my door as I was vigorously rubbing my temples still in the same position, flat on my back in bed. “Yes?” I reluctantly shouted back. The door creaked open and Mrs. Hudson slowly slid her head around the door. She shuffled in and hovered over my bed; I remained motionless, waiting for her to speak.
“Sherlock, honey...John’s been telling me what’s happening, he’s very worried about you, Sherly. We’re both worried about you, you’ve been acting very strange these past few weeks, dear.”
“I assure you, Mrs. Hudson, I am on absolute top form. You should know better than anyone that I am a big boy and can handle my nasty little habits.” Mrs. Hudson furrowed her brow and perched at the side of my bed next to me, she rested her hand on my bruised forearm. “I know you’re very good, but I can’t help but worry.. It only takes one small bit of misfortune, you know. What would I do without you here at 221B... if something were to happen? Or John? You know John would be like a little lost puppy without you, Sherl. Or what about Laura-?”
“Laura’s gone.” I replied monotonously.
“What do you mean? Poor little Laura’s sitting downstairs right now with a cup of tea. She came in shaking like a leaf, terrible business.” My eyes slightly widened and my ears pricked up. “She needs you, Sherlock. You can’t let us all down for this...silly, silly habit. Now go and give Laura a big hug and be there for her. I know you want to and I know you can, love.”