Baker Street Boys

Chapter 2- John

The ride back to the flat was a quiet one, and that made it all the longer. Sherlock just sat with his head in his hand the entire time, and he still hadn't said anything to me when we got to the door. He paused with his hand on the knob, just standing there for some time.

"Sherlock? Are you going to go in, or are we just going to stand on the stairs all night?" I joked. The knob finally clicked and he trudged inside. He wobbled slightly when he moved, almost like he was blindfolded. 'This isn't right,' I thought. "Are you sure you're okay?" I took a cautious step towards him.

Sherlock turned halfway, not quite facing me. His face, displaying an adamant scowl, looked even more pale in the dim light of the room. "I told you... I'm... I'm f..." His words dissipated into silence as he tottered back and forth.

"Sherlock...? Sherlock!" My heart lurched as I saw my best friend topple over. Time seemed to slow down as I leapt to catch him.

It took all of my strength to brace myself against Sherlock's weight as his legs folded under him. I caught him under the arms, his back against my chest, and lowered him to the floor gently. "Damn it, Sherlock..."

The first thing I did was check his pulse. It was faint, but it was there. "Stay with me," I said to the unconscious man, patting his face with one hand as I dialed 999 with the other on my phone.

"Yes, this is Dr. John Watson. I need an ambulance at 221B Baker Street," I told the operator. I tried hard to steady my voice as I repeated myself. "2-2-1 B. Baker Street. My friend collapsed. He isn't conscious and his blood pressure is low. Sleep deprivation. Please, you need to get here as fast as possible."

I heard a faint groaning sound and looked down. "Sherlock?" I whispered, touching his cheek. He didn't move. I hung up the phone and heard something else. Was he trying to talk?

"Of all the times you choose to chat..." I muttered.

"John..." he breathed. I could hardly hear him. He mumbled something else, but I couldn't make it out.

"Shh," I told him, "Try not to speak. Save your energy. There's an ambulance on its way."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I woke up with a start. Blinking the sleep from my eyes, I looked around, wondering where I was for a few moments before the memories came flooding back to me.

The soft beeping of the heart monitor was the only sound in the plain, yellow-walled room. I was in an uncomfortable chair next to the bed, sitting beside the IV. Apparently I had dozed off and ended up laying my head on the mattress.

Sherlock was sleeping, as well. This was a rare sight. 'I don't think I've ever seen him sleep...' He was always awake when I was. He probably only slept when I was passed out on the couch after a long day of work.

He looked... peaceful. I couldn't help but chuckle at the thought of Sherlock, who always had to be doing something, being still and just resting.

The clock on the wall read 3:32, and the glow of street lights through the curtains told me it was the middle of the night.

"Dr. Watson?" The nurse had come in to check on Sherlock. I stood up and nodded.

"Hm? Yes. Yes, hi. How is he?" I asked, motioning to the sleeping detective with a nod of my head.

"Oh, he'll be fine. It's a good thing he came in when he did." The nurse checked his IV and wrote some things down on a clipboard. I then remembered what time it was.

"Oh, goodness, I'm so sorry. Visiting hours were over at 7, weren't they? Why didn't someone wake me?" I rubbed my eyes with one hand, still groggy.

The nurse giggled. "It's alright, your landlady explained to me."

"Mrs. Hudson stopped by?" How long was I out?

"Yes. And even if you and Mr. Holmes aren't married, you're still allowed to stay with him past visiting hours."

"Married?!" My face grew hot, but I just blinked, unable to speak. She laughed.

"Yes, marriage seems so daunting, doesn't it? But don't worry. You'll be ready for it eventually. Anyway, someone will be in to check on him again in a few hours. Goodnight, Dr. Watson." She smiled as she shut the door behind her. I exhaled sharply, remembering to breathe.

"He's not my boyfriend..." I grumbled, the blush slowly fading. I sat back down in the stiff chair and glanced at Sherlock. The blanket rose and fell slowly with his breathing. After a few moments, I got up and looked over the clipboard the nurse had been writing on, seeing what medicines they were giving Sherlock and how he was doing.

"Wow, you're not waking up for awhile," I said softly, though I knew he wouldn't hear. "You're on strong stuff." A quiet yawn made me realize how tired I still was, and I ended up back in that damned chair. "You would think they'd have something more comfortable for people staying overnight, hm, Sherlock?"

As amazing as it was to watch his brilliant mind at work sometimes, seeing him so calm made him look, in his own way, beautiful. Like when a river is covered over in a thick layer of glittering ice and you can't see the raging water beneath the fragile surface.

"You don't mind if I lay my head here, do you?" No response. "That's what I thought." I settled down in the chair, using the bed as a pillow again. My eyes closed and I slowly slipped back into a shallow sleep.