John walks into his flat with a smile, today he was having a great day. He’d just gotten finished at the hospital, having a particularly easy morning and that had just seemed to leak into the afternoon. It was a great day, nothing had gone wrong.

When he came in he saw Sherlock standing at the window, his violin was in his left hand, bow in the right. He wasn’t holding them up, they were only in his hands. His shoulders were slumped and his arms were just dangling, and his curly chocolate hair was blocking his vision from either side of him.

“Sherlock?” John asked, Sherlock didn’t flinch. He seemed to pay no mind to the doctor. “Sherrrrrlock?” He asked again.

Sherlock still didn’t respond. John walked up to him and put a hand on his shoulder. Not even a twitch. “Are you alright?” John bent down and looked into his eyes. There was absolutely no emotion in them. It was like Sherlock just shut off. “Uhh,” John got back up and walked over to the kitchen. “Want a cup of tea?”

Still no response. John got a little frustrated because Sherlock was not in his Mind Palace, it was obvious when he was in his Mind Palace, or maybe it’s just because John stared at Sherlock too much when he was, so he knew how he acted when in his Mind Palace?

Sherlock stayed in that position for many days before John got very concerned. Sherlock wouldn’t eat anything, he wouldn’t move an inch, his breathing was very shallow, and he never even twitched. Not a word was spoken, and he never even let go of his violin, but by day five he fell to the floor and it crashed with him. Even when he was on the floor he didn’t move.

John walked back into the flat, expecting to see his best friend standing by the window, but instead he was on the floor. Within a heartbeat John was riding in an ambulance with the detective. He held his hand as the other doctors checked his dehydrated body. He kept mumbling his name as tears escaped like a cascade of waterfalls.

Once the ambulance stopped at the hospital Sherlock was rushed into a room. He was quickly given water and food. Sherlock was conscious the entire time but it truly looked like he was a body being taken to the morgue.

Sherlock’s hair was completely unkempt, his skin pale as snow, face an emotionless abyss, and his eyes just made John tear up even more. Because Sherlock’s beautiful multi-colored ocean eyes looked more like a dark night. John could swear his iris’ were drained from all emotions and decided a dull gray seemed fine enough to fill it in.

John held on tightly to the detective’s hand, wiping his tears away with his sleeves. “Sherlock….” He choked out a sob. “I love you, Sh-Sherlock… Please… Come back…”

Eventually John’s wishes were provided but Sherlock was never quite the same. Nobody knew why he had just stayed in one position for days on end, it was an unsolvable case that only Sherlock Holmes could crack. But he wasn’t going to say anything. About a week after the days in the hospital Sherlock started speaking, eating, sleeping, taking care of himself, and breathing normally again.

Cases flew by like insects, every one of them Sherlock understood and solved them within minutes. John and Sherlock started to date each other soon after, John noticed a lift in Sherlock’s mood. He was happier now, even though every smile was an obvious fake… But he was more affectionate than many people would think, he still never became quite the same Sherlock Holmes as he was before though. About a month in their relationship John and Sherlock started to sleep in the same bed, happiness once again, improved. One night while trying to go to sleep John rolled over and hugged himself to Sherlock’s chest.

“Hey, just wanted to know how you’re feeling.” He whispered, playing with Sherlock’s hair.

“I’m fine.” Sherlock said, his voice emotionless as always.

“Are you sure? I’ve noticed quite a difference in your attitude.”

“I’m fine.” Sherlock repeated, giving John a kiss.

John was not satisfied with this answer. “Baby, you can tell me, if anything is wrong. I really love and care for you-- and I want you to be happy.”

Sherlock rolled over and put his legs over John’s waist. “I don’t know. I just feel a bit depressed. I love you, too, John, and thanks for your concern. I know you want to know about what happened, and I will tell you more about it tomorrow, I’m tired.”

“Alright.” John pulled his knees to his chest and snuggled into Sherlock’s side. “Goodnight my love.”

“Goodnight, John.” Sherlock gave him a fake grin and closed his eyes. John frowned and stared at Sherlock’s darkly-shaded face for until he was asleep, then he focused on sleeping himself.

In the morning John woke up to an empty bed. He looked around and noticed Sherlock was already changing into a shirt and trousers. “Morning, lovey.” Sherlock said with another fake smile.

“Mornin’ Sherlock.” He smiled and watched Sherlock put on the shirt. “Are you going somewhere today, deary?”

“Not that I know of. Lestrade might text me.” Sherlock walked up to the bed and connected his and John’s lips. “How’d you sleep?”

“Not good, I had the suspense of what you’re going to tell me over my shoulders the entire night.”

Sherlock sat down on the bed, he tucked his knees to his chest and leaned on John’s shoulder. “Alright.” He sighed. “To be honest all I remember is falling apart as I played on my violin. It was like I was there, then... I cracked. I broke. I woke up in an ambulance. I don’t remember much in those days, it seemed like a few minutes to me, but I remember a pain in my side. That must be when I fell. But other than that I’m not much aware of why my body just shut down. Did I worry you?” John nodded slowly, kneading his fingers in Sherlock’s hand. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright. All those days when I came home, and I shook you or I yelled your name, or I looked into your empty eyes, I should have called the ambulance sooner. I’m sorry and I love you, Sherlock.”

“I love you, too. I’m sorry that I was an emotionless statue for five days.”

“You were a statue for five days, Sherlock. You were emotionless for much longer.” John stole another kiss from the taller man, “And you still act a little emotionless. I want the best for you.”

Sherlock put his arms around John and nodded. “I know.” He started to line kisses on John’s cheek. “You’re so caring, do you know that?”

He chuckled, nodding. “Yes, do you know that you’re very cute?”

Sherlock cupped John’s face gently. “Am I?”

“And when you stand still for days on end I can still feel myself gravitate towards you.” John said, pushing himself into Sherlock’s arms. “I know you couldn’t hear me when I said this, at the hospital, but I said I loved you, and what happened only made me confess that. I think it’s for the better that happened, otherwise we’d still be friends.”

“That’s quite true, my dear,” Sherlock whispered into John’s ears, rubbing his back. “And I did hear you. I just couldn’t respond. Once I was in reality again, in the ambulance, it was like I was I was paralyzed. I wanted to look you in the eyes and tell you that you were holding my hand too tight.”

John chuckled and ran his hand up and down Sherlock’s chest and side. “I’m sorry. I was just really scared.”

“I know.” Sherlock kissed his cheek and pulled him closer. “I’m fine now.”

“Thank gosh.” John booped Sherlock’s nose, “I wouldn’t want to live with an emotionless man for the rest of my life.” Sherlock laughed and nodded.

“I understand that.”