Sherlock, Why Didn't You Tell Me?

Please; Wake up.

As John sat in the waiting room, forced to stare at ugly décor, he couldn't help but twiddle his fingers. The agony of waiting stabbed him like a long, two edged sword, And as the hours passed, it slowly turned. When day turned to night, and the clock struck three AM, John finally received a visit from a Doctor. "Hello sir." He said with a thick, British accent. "I'm Doctor Solo; I have been with your friend and I'm afraid he's not doing too well. He had some internal wounds that were re-opened when he became ill. His body went into circulatory shock, and now he is in a coma." John covered his mouth with his hand. "If you would like to see him they are placing him on a ventilator now." John became incredibly dizzy, and fell into the chair. Doctor Solo placed his hand on his shoulder. "Are you alright sir?" He asked in a worried tone. John nodded and arose. "May I see him?" Doctor Solo nodded and waved him back into a far off room. When they came in, John sat down, and Doctor Solo left. Sherlock was hooked up to a ventilator, and had multiple IV's in his wrists and arms. Just the sight brought John to unexplainable pain. He pushed his chair closer, and sat with his elbows on his knees. He took a breath of air and sat straight. "Sherlock?" He started, tears flooding his eyes. "Why Didn't you tell me?" He grit his teeth and clenched his fists. Through clenched teeth he said "I could have helped!" The constant beep of the monitors filled the void of speech. "Please. Wake up."  He buried his face in his hands and began to weep. He couldn't hide it any longer. Then soon after, Mary's presence swept into the room. She closed the door and ran to John's side. "It's going to be alright John. You know Sherlock, he'll get through." She said encouragingly. John wiped away a tear, and looked into her eyes. "Not this time." He arose and pushed his chair back. He sat down in it, and as Mary held his hand, He fell asleep in his other.

When he awoke the next morning, Sherlock lay there, with his skin brighter. Two nurses were removing the ventilator now, and his pulse was more erratic. John practically jumped out of his seat. "He's coming out of it." A nurse stated. They finished, and walked out. When they had left, Sherlock suddenly awoke and abruptly arose, gasping. John ran to his side, and laid him back down. "Sherlock" he started. Sherlock sighed and turned his head. "Why didn't you tell me?" He leaned in and hugged him. Though this time, Sherlock hugged back. He whispered in his ear during the lengthy embrace, "John. You know why- I didn't want to bother you." John quickly shot back "You don't bother me- it doesn't bother me." But Sherlock leaned closer and held tighter. "Do Not beat yourself up over something you knew nothing of. It pains me deeply." John released himself. "It pains me to see you like this." Sherlock looked John in the eye and said "And me the same." He then dosed off. John went and told the nurses, and they cleared him to leave when he awoke.

When Sherlock awoke, it was late at night. When he came into his flat, he threw himself into his armchair. John appeared from around the corner. "You know" he started. "You should take your medicine." He threw Sherlock a bottle of pills, which Sherlock caught. "Well, I'm glad your back- I need to go home to Mary." He started toward the door. "Thank you, John." He nodded, and as he closed the door shouted "Stay hydrated!" Sherlock chuckled, and sat the pills down on a side table. He then put his hands together and up to his face, and pondered the unknown.