[Tell him it's not his fault. You know it's not, John. This isn't going to do either of you any good.]
It's not real. None of this is real.
[He loves you. You love him. He needs to hear it. You need to tell him or he'll just keep killing himself. She sounds near to tears. And there's something that aches in John's chest. But none of this is real. It won't count in a dream and he has a hard enough time expressing these kinds of things without having to do it twice. It hurts too much already, having seen his messages.]
I'm sorry.
[John.]
I have to call Dug. I'll talk to you later, Sherlock. Keep warm.
no subject
It's not real. None of this is real.
[He loves you. You love him. He needs to hear it. You need to tell him or he'll just keep killing himself. She sounds near to tears. And there's something that aches in John's chest. But none of this is real. It won't count in a dream and he has a hard enough time expressing these kinds of things without having to do it twice. It hurts too much already, having seen his messages.]
I'm sorry.
[John.]
I have to call Dug. I'll talk to you later, Sherlock. Keep warm.
[He disconnects.]