Modern Times 

Sherlock's eyes flew open. Alex, John, Mary, and Mycroft were standing over him, looking worried. He smiled up at John after taking in his surroundings.

"Miss me?" He asked. 

"Sherlock? You alright?" John asked. 

"Of course I am, why wouldn't I be?" Sherlock asked.

"Because you probably just OD'd. You should be in a hospital." Mary said.

"Mm, no time." Sherlock shook his head. Alex threw up her hands in frustration.

"Unbelievable." She muttered. 

"I have to go to Baker Street now." Sherlock said, standing up and stumbling a little. "Moriarty's back."

"I almost hope he is, if it'll save you from this." Mycroft said, holding up his brother's list. Sherlock grabbed it and ripped it apart.

"No need for that now. I've got the real thing." He said. "I have work to do."

"Sherlock...promise me?" Mycroft asked, more concern than Alex had ever seen in his features.

"What are you still doing here?" Sherlock asked. "Shouldn't you be off getting me a pardon or something? Like a proper big brother?"

"Sherlock!" Alex barked. "Why do you always have to be such a jerk?"

Sherlock ignored her and pushed past Mycroft, Mary and John following. Alex lingered for a moment before sighing and deciding to follow Sherlock.

"Miss Watson," Mycroft said, causing Alex to turn around, "look after him, won't you? Please?"

Alex sighed and nodded. "Alright."

"Even if he doesn't act like it sometimes, he loves you very much." Mycroft said. Alex paused before getting out of the plane. Mycroft stooped down to pick up the pieces of the list. He put them in his notebook, his eyes lingering on the word 'Redbeard,' before snapping the book shut.

"Sherlock, hang on, explain!" John said. "Moriarty's alive, then?"

"I never said he was alive, I said he was back." Sherlock said. 

"So he's dead?" Alex questioned.

"Of course he's dead, he blew his own brains out. No one survives that." Sherlock said. "I just went to the trouble of an overdose to prove it. Moriarty is dead, no question. More importantly, I know exactly what he's going to do next. Come along, Alex."

Alex climbed into one of Mycroft's cars with Sherlock. The tension between them was so thick that it could be cut with a knife. Sherlock opened his mouth to say something, but Alex held up her hand.

"Don't." She said. "I'm mad right now, okay? Just don't talk to me, and you should be fine."

"Alright." Sherlock whispered. 

The rest of the ride back to Baker Street was completely silent. When Alex got upstairs, she slammed the door to the bedroom shut. Sherlock could hear her crying, and it broke his heart. How could he have been so stupid? He got up and knocked on the door to the bedroom.

"What do you want?" Alex asked.

"Are you alright?" Sherlock asked.

"No, Sherlock, I'm not! I almost lost you today in more ways than one. When...when John came out to get me and told me that you had gone unconscious, I thought my life was over." Alex said. "I had to live two years without you thinking you were dead. I can't ever do that again."

"I'm sorry." Sherlock whispered. "I'm so sorry about scaring you. I had to leave you and I would never see you again. I was going to be dead within six months. I couldn't...I couldn't cope with goodbye without something to help me."

Alex was silent for a moment. "How do I know you aren't just saying this to get me to stay? You are a sociopath."

"Would I lie about this?" Sherlock asked, and then heard how the question sounded coming out of his mouth.

"Yes." Alex said. 

"You're right I would." Sherlock sighed. "What will it take for you to forgive me?"

"I honestly don't know, Sherlock." Alex sighed. "I just want to lay down right now."

"Okay." Sherlock said, deciding that it would be best to leave her alone. He stood at the door for a few seconds longer before retreating back to the couch. He started playing the tune of her song on his violin, hoping that that would compel her to come out. In the middle of it, he heard a pounding on the door.

"I know what you're doing, and stop. It may have worked the first time, but it's not going to work now." Alex said.

Darn it. Sherlock thought. He was hoping that his song for Alex would always be his one-way ticket to not having to sleep on the couch. It seemed that it was only one use per customer, though. 

Alex finally left the bedroom after another hour or so of sulking. Sherlock was on his laptop, trying to find ways to make Alex forgive him. She plopped down in his chair and picked up her book. Sherlock decided to just talk to her. He shut his laptop.

"Hi." He said.

"Mm." Alex acknowledged. 

"Is there any way I could make it up to you?" Sherlock asked.

"Not right now." Alex said. "Please, just leave me alone, okay?"

Sherlock nodded and reopened his laptop. He went online and started to look at ways to get Alex to forgive him. He knew that he would never be able to pull those off, though. They were mostly embarrassing public displays of affection. He would hate doing it, and Alex would hate receiving it. 

After several hours of uncomfortable silence, Alex finally decided to go to bed. Sherlock said goodnight to her, but didn't get a reply. She went to the bedroom while Sherlock curled up on the uncomfortable couch.

So... we meet again. He thought. He had only slept on the couch once before, when he had tricked Alex into thinking that the tube carriage was going to blow up after he had come back from the dead.

Hours passed, and the living room of 221B only got darker. Sherlock couldn't sleep. He finally sighed and turned on the telly. A movie, Star Wars: The Empire Strikes Back, was on. Sherlock deduced the ending quickly.

"Darth Vader is Luke's father. Quite obvious." He muttered to himself. Still, he couldn't resist watching just a little more. He smiled as Leia and Han started to argue. It reminded him a bit of him and Alex. 

Thirty minutes later, Sherlock was fidgety again. He couldn't sleep. The couch was so uncomfortable, the room was cold, and he could hear the sounds of late night traffic. Sherlock finally sighed and got up. After being in a relationship for several months and sleeping in the same bed as the person he was in said relationship with on the rare occasions he did sleep, he couldn't sleep without that person. He walked quietly to the door of the bedroom he shared with Alex. A floorboard creaked and he stopped. He didn't hear a sound, so he continued to his room. He opened the door, which he was surprised wasn't unlocked, and entered. The television was on, but Alex was asleep. She was sprawled across the bed and looked like she was getting the best sleep she'd had in a long time. Sherlock knew if he laid down, he'd disturb her, so he laid down on the rug coming out from underneath their bed and pulled the few covers that were hanging off of the bed around himself. 

Sherlock's eyes were beginning to droop closed when he felt the blankets get pulled up. Alex was awake. Had he woken her? She got up and groaned.

"Where's the remote?" She said. Sherlock laid very still. The remote was behind him, but he didn't want to move lest Alex notice him. "Ugh."

Alex made her way over the television and pressed a button to power it off. Sherlock's body was still. Alex laid back down on the bed and yawned, going back to sleep. Sherlock cautiously risked a glance at her sleeping form. She was fast asleep, and wouldn't notice if he laid down beside her. He shook his head. She would definitely notice that, so Sherlock just laid down on the floor to get some sleep there. His eyes slowly closed and he fell asleep.

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"Sherlock."

Sherlock's eyes opened. It was still dark out. Around three in the morning, he deduced. Sherlock looked up and jumped. Alex's head was hanging over the bed. He didn't understand how Alex had found him, but then he noticed that the bed had no blankets. He had pulled them all down to where he was. Sherlock smiled sheepishly up at his girlfriend.

"Um...hi." He said. 

"What are you doing in here?" Alex asked. 

"I couldn't sleep." Sherlock said. 

"Alright. Get up here." Alex sighed. "Bring the blankets with you, I'm freezing."

Sherlock gratefully picked up the blankets and laid down on the bed. He covered himself and Alex with the blankets. Alex turned her body to face his and gave him a half-smile. Sherlock smiled nervously back.

"I'm sorry about scaring you, dear." He whispered.

"I know you are." Alex said. "I'm being harsh on you, but it's just...I'm aware I already said this, but I was scared I was really going to lose you this time. I was already emotionally drained, and then you did the drugs and I got terrified when you OD'd." 

"Oh, Alex..." Sherlock sighed and kissed her on the side of her head.  "Nothing will ever take me away from you. Honestly, I'm the one who's worried about you leaving me."

"Oh? Why?" Alex asked.

"I had a...sort of nightmare today when I was unconscious. You broke up with me because of what I did." Sherlock said. "I'm not one to admit this sort of thing, but it scared me. Badly." 

"Sherlock, I don't think I could ever leave you, unless you abused me or something." Alex said. "So don't be scared that I'll leave you, okay?"

"Okay." Sherlock said. 

"Good. Now, get some rest. We have some pretty big work to do tomorrow." Alex said. 

"Alex?" Sherlock said.

"Hm?" Alex said.

"Can I...hold you? Just for tonight?" Sherlock asked.

"You don't have to ask that kind of thing. I never get that kind of affection from you." Alex said.

"So that's a yes?" Sherlock asked, confused.

"Of course." Alex said.

Sherlock wrapped his arms around Alex and held her close to him. He just needed to feel that she was there and wasn't going to leave him. Alex smiled, satisfied and drowsy. Her eyes closed and she fell asleep, encased protectively in Sherlock's warm embrace.

"Love you." She whispered just before she drifted off.

"I love you, too." Sherlock said. 

He placed a kiss onto Alex's cheek before falling asleep himself, his mind safe in the knowledge that Alex wouldn't leave ever leave him and that she had fully forgiven him, both in this time and in 1895.

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Yay, this is finally done! Started it last year, and now it's over. This is huge weight off of my shoulders. The part where Sherlock snuck into Alex's room was inspired by something that happened to me when I was younger. I had a bad dream, but I didn't want to bug my parents so I literally went and laid down in the hall outside their room for a few minutes, slept on the floor until my mom got up to turn off the TV (like Sherlock, I didn't move), crept up onto the bed and laid there for about thirty minutes before finally waking my mom up. I'm still amazed they didn't notice me and I didn't wake them.