After the arrests have been made, the pieces have been picked up, Sherlock comes bounding home, covered head to toe in green paint and vibrating with energy.
"The present is always more gripping than the past. Stay in it, and call me when the drugs are calling you- I'll always come running." He shrugs. "Sometimes to take them away from you, sometimes to take them with you."
"The present is always more gripping than the past. Stay in it, and call me when the drugs are calling you- I'll always come running." He shrugs. "Sometimes to take them away from you, sometimes to take them with you."
"And if the numbers come too quickly, or if everything else comes too slow, get in touch. I'll wrench you into my world so fast your head turns, and paint the room in letters for you."
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He laughs.
"I want you."
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He tells him, very softly.
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"-it can't be perfect. You know that."
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He promises.
"I just thought you should know, I will remember the good things."
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Idly, sitting up a bit.
"The present is always more gripping than the past. Stay in it, and call me when the drugs are calling you- I'll always come running." He shrugs. "Sometimes to take them away from you, sometimes to take them with you."
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Idly, sitting up a bit.
"The present is always more gripping than the past. Stay in it, and call me when the drugs are calling you- I'll always come running." He shrugs. "Sometimes to take them away from you, sometimes to take them with you."
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Whenever he needs.
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He whispers.
"I'll call if you'll call- if you don't, I won't."
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He answers.
"And if I don't, it means I haven't made it out of bed."
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He kisses his temple.
"Your coping mechanisms are so much more flaky than mine."
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Is the sad thing. He's almost functional, with Jim.
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Quietly.
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He taps Jim's forehead.
"I'm still here."
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He says, and means it. He trusts him so absolutely.