The Only One in The World [Hiatus]

Chapter 2

"Joooooohhhn." I moaned as I lazily walked into the living room and plopped onto the couch.

"What?!" He replied annoyed from his room.

"Black, two sugars." I could hear John whine as he walked into the small kitchen and began to brew my coffee. I heard John gasp and then a heavy bang on the floor; I ran into the kitchen to see him clutching his chest in agony, sweating and breathing heavily. Without hesitation, I ran (clumsily) to his bedroom, grabbed two aspirins from his side-table, and went to John; I hoisted him up, trying not to hurt him any more than he already was and had him lean against the counter. I forced him after many protests to take the aspirins as he jugged the water desperately. His hands trembled from the pain and he dropped the half-empty water bottle, water spilling onto the floor.

I nearly forgot the phone in my pocket as I called Lestrade:

"Graham, get the medics here instantly."

"What's going on now, Sherlock?" He asked impatiently, but I suddenly became enraged. "Just call the bloody medics and get here NOW!" I yelled into the phone as I threw it carelessly aside, forgetting to end the call as I looked desperately at John. I held his hand gently, his pulse was racing and I noticed his pale skin; he began to pass out, his muscles stiffening and his head slowly moving side-to-side in his dizziness as he tried not to vomit... it would've hit me.

"Sh-Shhherrlllock..." John slurred through the agony.

"Don't say a word, John." I hushed him as I heard the sirens of Lestrade's medics arrive.

I heard the door of 221B bust open as Lestrade and his team jogged up the stairs and swerved into the kitchen. John had a small amount of energy, enough to hoist himself up to the sink as he vomited onto the clean dishes and wiped his mouth on a nearby towel... I'd used that for experiments; I slightly grimaced as I held John's waist to help him move as they took him from my arms and carried him away.

I stood there silently, my hands wet from his sweating and rubbed them on my pants; I waited until the hustling and sirens were long gone before rushing into my room to change. I came out in my simple purple shirt, black trousers, and color-matching shoes and blazer, then I ran out the door, slamming it behind me and I called for a cab.

"St. Bart's- quickly," I ordered the driver as he nodded and began to drive before replying, "Yes Mister Holmes." The cabby turned around for a second to grimly smirk and kept on driving. I recognized the face, and of all days, today had to be the day I found that bloody cab driver.... and I decided to say his name simply.

"Hello, Sebastian Moran."