Love You to Death~a Johnlock fanfic

An invision?

I'm actually so terrified right now. I don't even know what just happened but it feels like my stomach is dropped 20 feet and my heart is beating so rapidly it might just leap out of my chest. I was just sitting on the couch and I guess that I had fell asleep but I had this really terrible dream. This is how it went.

I was holding a gun for some reason and pointing it at someone. I don't know who but it was someone that I knew, not John or Mycroft or Greg, possibly female or just a feminine-built man? Anyways, I was shaking and crying, but I was also angry. It was a burning, infuriating anger that made me hate myself and everyone and thing on this entire planet. I was sweating and weary, like I was so confused what's going on. How could I be confused? I know everything! But apparently not this. I fired the gun hesitantly but furiously, clenching my fingers down on the trigger and stumbling from the back from the recoil. The person I shot wasn't John. I know it wasn't. It couldn't have been. It didn't look like him, at least I thought it didn't. But then I saw him on the floor, bleeding out from his stomach. Tears started streaming down my face. I jumped forward.
"John!" I said, trying to compress the wound with my hand.
"Sherlock! Come on, you're scaring me!" He said with an anxious and pressured tone.
"What?" I asked, confused.
"Wake up! Please!" He continued. At that point I felt something hitting my cheek and on my wrist. I strained to open my eyes.
"Thank god!" He exclaimed, grabbing my hand.
"What happened?" I asked drowsily.
"I don't know, you just got really hot and sweaty and your pulse was really fast. I thought it was some kind of stroke for a second." He said, his cold hand of my forehead.
"Are you okay? Do you need some medicine or something?"
"No, it's okay." I said, putting one of my hands on his neck.
"Okay, well I'm getting the thermometer and if you have a fever you have to take some medicine." He said, taking his hand off my forehead and heading towards the kitchen.
I really try to avoid taking any any kind of pills for obvious reasons so I was begging and praying that I didn't have a fever, but of course when John had just came back with the thermometer this happens,
"Holy shit!" He said, making sure he was reading it right.
"What?" I said sort of anxiously.
"41 degrees!" He said, flipping it around.
(SORRY FOR THE INTERRUPTION BUT SMALL DISCLAIMER, ITS IN CELSIUS!)
"Oh my-" I said pulling his hand closer to me to make sure that's what it said.
"Okay, I'm going to grab my coat, we're going to the hospital." He said, pulling my hand.
"No, honey, it's okay!" I said pulling back at his hand so he turns to face me.
"No, it's not! You have a 41 degree fever, your pulse is extremely fast and erratic, for gods sake Sherlock I thought you were having a stroke! Now come on!" He said, pulling me towards the door even harder.
At that moment Mrs. Hudson burst through the door because of all of the noise we were making.
"What is going on I here?" She exclaimed, shifting her view to each of us every few seconds
"Sherlock has a 41 degree fever, extremely fast and erratic pulse, and he's sweating like crazy and won't even let me take him to the hospital." He said, sounding extremely pissed.
"But you're a doctor, John!" I said, trying to convince him not to make me go. I hated hospitals, especially after what happened with Culverton Smith.
"Do I look like I can help you right now?" He asked, turning to face me and spreading his arms just a bit.
"John's right Sherlock, you should at least go to a doctors office." She said, standing in the doorway, grabbing the side of the door with one hand and the other down to her side.
At that moment, I started to feel really woozy. I thought maybe it was just my temperature raising or something but everything started to go really blurry.
"I really don't..." I muttered, interrupted by my vision fading and my arms and legs going numb and eventually hitting the floor. Suddenly I felt someone's hand on my wrist and cheek. The last words I heard, no clue who it came from because everything sounded distorted at that point, was,
"Sherlock? Oh my god."

I woke up in the hospital about two and a half hours later, the first thing I saw was a white ceiling. Once I was able to feel my arms about three seconds later, I felt a hand in mine, sort of quivering and sweating.
"John?" I strained drowsily.
"Thank goodness," he said, looking over and examining my face.
"You scared the shit out of me!" He continued.
"Are you okay? You hit your head pretty hard." He said, placing his hand a little past my ear.
"Yeah, I'm alright. What happened?" I asked, trying to sit up but failing and laying back down.
"So turns out you actually did have a stroke." He said, looking at the monitor next to my bed.
"Just a minor one though, I think you should just take it easy for about a month and you'll be okay." He said, now running his hand through my hair.
"How did I have a stroke? What caused it?" I asked, trying to think of causes. Heart problems, no. Over age 65, no. High blood pressure? I hope not, possibly because- my thoughts were then interrupted by a voice.
"You're blood pressure is really high. The doctor said you need to completely stop smoking, stop drinking, get more sleep, stuff like that." He informed, his hand was paused, fingers in my hair and palm on the side of my forehead. He was staring out the window. I glanced too. Nothing.
"When can I go home?" I asked, still looking out the window with him.
"Two or three days." He finally said after a small pause, his deep blue eyes locked on mine.
"I called off work for two weeks and picked up your prescription, says you should take it twice a day for the next 8 months."
"No, you don't have to do that! I'll be-" I began to say until I was interrupted.
"Shut up, I want to help you!" He said, slightly raising his voice, still staring into my eyes.
"Okay, okay, I surrender!" I said, grabbing his hand and pulling it down to my chest.
"Good." He said, the corners of his mouth turning slightly up as he kissed my hand.

I know this is sort of weird since I was healing from a literal stroke but those next two weeks were honestly the best of my life. Sitting on the couch all day with the love of my life just talking about the future and what we wanted the rests of our life to be like. I didn't bring up the dream, but god, I wish I did.