When John arrived at 221b the door was locked. He kicked it until the hinges gave in. John raced upstairs in time to watch Sherlock crawl on the floor, blood gushing from his mouth as he made a chocking sound. "Sherlock!" He shouted, flinging himself onto the floor with him. He wrapped his arm around him, pulling him up to help his breathing. Sherlock looked at John in fear.
John kept his face stubborn. "It will be alright" he assured him, although he didn't believe it. John found the empty bottle on the floor and he knew Sherlock had taken them on his own accord. But worry hit John worse than anger as all he could do was hold him and watch him suffer. John had dealt with countless medical cases, but as he watched his best friend suffer he lost his mind. He knew he couldn't help him, he couldn't do anything but comfort him.
June heart raced as liter after liter left Sherlocks mouth and stained the floors of the flat. He hopped help would be here soon. Johns memory sped through thoughts of Sherlock, all the cases they had solved together, all the ways Sherlock had taught him, and even saved his life.
Before Sherlock, John had thought constantly about putting a bullet through his own head. And after his alleged death he had received those thoughts again. But it was because if Sherlock he never acted on them. No matter how bad the urge was.
Sherlock remained conscious as John held him, his mind however as fading quickly, his body began to shut itself down bit by bit. Sherlock watched as John fought back tears. He wanted to speak, he had so much to say, Sherlock opened his blood stained mouth. "John" he whispered.
"I'm here Sherlock" John let a single tear fall from his eye. "I'm here"
Sherlock was silent as his mind continued to wash back and forth, mixing all his thoughts together. He struggled to get the words he wanted to come to his lips. "John" Sherlock finally spoke although his voice was weak. "I love you"
"Jesus Christ I love you too Sherlock!" John fell into a pit of tears as he held Sherlock until he passed out in his arms. "I always have" He handed the limp Sherlock off to the oncoming paramedic, as his tears refused to dry.