A Time For Healing // Sherlock & Rose
The water felt like it was cutting into her skin more than her fingernails ever could. It was almost as if she were on fire without the flames, wishing she could just melt into the tub and wash into the drain and never deal with anything again. Never deal with the look of fear or hurt on Sherlock’s face. She wouldn’t have to know that she’d put it there. That she’d been the one to disappoint him. She’d never have to feel the guilt building inside of her. If only she could just melt away. Everything would all be over. It would have been so easy.
But easy didn’t mean best. Easy didn’t mean that it was what should have been done and she was already starting to regret trying. But she wasn’t completely sure if she regreted trying or if she regreted not being fast enough. If she had moved faster, reached for the razor sooner. But he would have been the one to find her. He would have been the one to see the blood and the look of relief that would have found her. He would have been the one who had to turn of the water that surely would have grown cold by that point. He would have been the one who had to call Scotland Yard to report a death in his flat.
And Sherlock deserved better than that.
Sherlock deserved to know what was going on in her head, why she was curled up in the back of the shower. She didn’t want him to think that she missed the Doctor. She didn’t want him to think that she missed the life she’d been forced to leave behind. But she couldn’t erase the feelings of abandonment. She couldn’t keep pretending that thinking back to what she’d had didn’t hurt. She missed the stars. She missed the creatures and the species and the races that she spoke with, wandered with. She missed the food. An she missed the TARDIS.
Rose missed everything about being with the Doctor that wasn’t the Doctor. If she could, she woul have grabbed Sherlock’s hand and taken him with her to the stars, let them explore to the ends of the universe until they couldn’t anymore. And she missed feeling like she was someone. She knew she meant something to Sherlock. She knew he cared about her more than she really understood. But she was still just Rose Tyler. No longer Defender of Earth. The Doctor had managed to rip everything from her. Her life, her world, her stars, her person. And she was still trying to find herself again.
Though, it was easier in Sherlock’s arms. And when she looked in his eyes and found the reminder that she was holding her universe, she could find calm and strength. Or she could at least borrow his. She watched him climb in beside of her and she immediately moved to pull his arm up so that she could tuck herself into his side, making herself as small as she could pressed against him. “I-I’m tryin. I promise. I’m trying.” Rose hissed for a moment as she shifted, the fabric of his shirt clinging to her cuts. "Please don’t go anywhere. Please don’t ever go anywhere. Sherlock, I don’t know what I’d do. I don’t know what to do without you. Please…stay with me."
Sherlock wasn’t sure what to believe.
All he knew for certain was he had come home to what originally seemed like an empty flat, right up until he heard the shower running. Rose had begged him to just go, to leave her alone, but he couldn’t do that. She was sobbing, she clearly wasn’t in any condition to be alone and when he opened the door, although logically he knew it was possible, he wasn’t entirely prepared for what he had seen.
The shower splattered down over Rose’s bare flesh with scolding intensity and his overly observant eyes saw every single mark she put into her flesh with her own hands, her own nails. To an ordinary person, this might have been too much to handle, but Sherlock Holmes pressed forward, he refused to leave, he would do everything he could to help her despite the fact that he, himself, was terrified.
If anyone understood the desire to escape life, to simply stop living—no, to cease existing all together, to basically erase themselves from everything—it was Sherlock Holmes. He’d even tried once, back when he was attending boarding school, he had tried to stop existing. It wasn’t until he learned to shut everyone out that he ever really escaped that feeling of wanting out. If anyone could bring her back, if anyone could truly help her, it was Sherlock.
“Rose, please listen to me all right?” he whispered and even though he didn’t know exactly why she had done what she’d done, he would be supportive of her, he would love her and carry her through this even if the reasoning hurt.
It could be anything. It could be missing the Doctor. It could be missing her old life, her old friends, a feeling of abandonment that even Sherlock hadn’t stitched closed yet. Sherlock was preparing himself to deal with any answer she gave him (not that he was going to force an answer from her), but the thing he feared the most was that this was because she wanted the Doctor back. How would he deal with something like that? He didn’t know.
“Listen to me. I’m not going anywhere. Right now I am here and I will be for as long as I breathe. Even when we are physically apart, it will never last more than a few days or so and when those times come, I am still with you. I am never going anywhere, for as long as I live, I promise you that.”