The Accident

Chapter Three

A/N

Sorry it took so long to post this! Life can get pretty busy! Just hang in there a little while longer my darlings. ~TJ

~~~

"You can see Sherlock now, the doctor will be with you in a moment." John looked up to see Sarah smiling at him. He nodded and followed her down the hallways. They arrived in Sherlock's room, and he was awake. John walked over to his bed, and sat down in a chair next to it. Sherlock rolled his head over so he was looking at John. He smiled feebly. "Hi John." he whispered. He reached for John's hand and held it in his.

John smiled back. "Hey Sherly." he replied. "How are you?" Sherlock asked. "I should be asking you the same." John replied.

"I'm fine, so how are you?" John released a breath. "I'm holding together." he replied.

"I'm sorry." Sherlock replied.

"Sherlock, just concentrate on getting better, and we'll be fine." John said, trying to sound confident.

"I'm just worried about you." Sherlock replied.

John leaned forward and rested his head on Sherlock's chest. "I'm going to be fine, Sherl."

Sherlock reached up with his arm and played with John's short, blonde hair. "I hope so, I can't have a broken blogger."

"So just please try to get better, will you do that, just for me?" John asked.

"Of course." Sherlock replied. "I'll do anything for you."

"I would kill for you." John said, giggling. Sherlock smiled in response.

"John Watson, I presume." John turned to see a woman standing in the doorway. She had dark skin, and was wearing pink scrubs with a white lap coat. Her black hair tumbled down her shoulders and upper back. Her name tag read Martha Jones M.D. (A/N just a little wholock for you)

"Indeed, any news for us?" John asked, lifting his head from Sherlock's chest. "Yes, can I talk to you for a moment?" she asked, pointing to the hallway. John stood. "What is it?" he asked, his protective captain mode switching on.

They walked out into the familiar hallway and Martha faced him. She let out a sigh. "What you need to understand is that we tried. We tried, and tried, but..." she let out a shaky breath and ran a hand through her bangs. "There's only a 10% chance he'll ever be able to walk again, and that would require extensive physical therapy and even more surgeries." John didn't reply. "I'm sorry." Martha concluded.

She shook John's offered hand and left. John shook his head to clear his thoughts and walked into Sherlock's room. "Sherlock..." he said, wondering how to phrase what he wanted to say. "Yes?" Sherlock replied. He saw the worn and sad look on John's face.

"John, I know I can't walk; considering I've lost all feeling in my right leg." Sherlock seemed strangely calm about it.

"I'm so, so sorry." John said.

"It's not your fault, don't be sorry." Sherlock said. "I'm sorry you have to deal with this."

"We'll be okay... I promise." John said with fake confidence.

"You don't seem very sure about that."

"We might struggle, but I promise to never leave you"

"Good to know." Sherlock replied. "I just don't want you to worry too much about me."

John smiled. "I'll try not to."

"That's all I can ask."

John returned to his spot in the chair next to Sherlock's bed and took Sherlock's hand in his.

"I'm going to be pretty useless from now on, aren't I?" Sherlock asked, softly squeezing John's hand.

"Never." John said. "You will always be the madman that I love."

Sherlock smiled. "I love you too, John." John rolled over Sherlock's hand and kissed his palm.

"When do you think I'll be able to get out of here? Soon I hope." Sherlock said.

"Judging by how well you're recovering I'd say a week." John replied. Sherlock groaned.

"Do you want me to grab some case files from Lestrade?" John asked.

Sherlock perked up. "That would be wonderful."

John smiled and kissed Sherlock's temple. "I'll be right back."

Sherlock smiled. "Thank you."

A few minutes later, John returned, a case file in hand.  "Jawn, are there any cases?" Sherlock asked, adding extra emphasis to John's name.

"There's only a murder, pretty cut and dry." John replied

"Give it to meeeeeeeeeeeeeee." Sherlock whined.

"Here you are." John said, handing over the file.

Sherlock quickly scanned over the pictures and articles.  "Dull, it was his ex-wife.  Obviously." Sherlock said, tossing it aside.  "Sorry, there was nothing better." John said, taking his seat in the chair beside Sherlock's bed.  "It's fine." Sherlock trailed off.

"I shouldn't be complaining anyways." 

"You have every right to complain."

"It's my fault I left without telling you, and it's my fault that I provoked those terrorists." John shook his head.  "No, it's really not." he said, looking at Sherlock with sympathy.  "Calling them a bunch of idiots was my fault; therefore, getting attacked was my fault." Sherlock said.

"You can't help how you are." John said, "But people should control how they react." Sherlock looked over at him, his eyes seeming slightly sad.  "They thought that I was one of their rivals or something."

"I'm so sorry."

"It's not your fault, you shouldn't feel sorry for me." Sherlock confirmed.  "I've always had it coming anyways."

"No, you really didn't."

"I always annoy people up until the point where they want to wring my neck; it was just a matter of time until I got into some real trouble."  John looked over at Sherlock, sadness and sympathy in his eyes.  "Sherlock, I knew you were going to get into serious trouble one day, and I knew there was nothing I could do to stop that, I just hoped it wouldn't impact you like this."

Sherlock smiled slightly.  "I guess I just had a revelation of some sort." John sent him a quizzical look.  "What was it?" he asked.  "How big of an arse I am." Sherlock replied, smile growing slightly bigger.  John smiled with him and giggled.  "Just gettin' that now?" he asked.  Sherlock's smile faded slightly.  "Unfortunately, yes."

"Hmm"  Sherlock smiled again.  "But there is still no way I'm going to apologize to Anderson."  "Never expected you to." John replied.  "Oh thank goodness." Sherlock said, throwing his head back for dramatic effect.  "But I suppose I should be a little nicer to Molly and Mrs. Hudson."  "It could never hurt." John agreed.

"And I could be a better boyfriend to you." John leaned forward and snogged Sherlock again.  Sherlock pressed his lips farther into John's and wrapped his arm around his waist, and put his other hand on the side of his face.

After a few minutes, Sherlock pulled away.  "I love you so much, John." He said, slightly panting.

"I love you too, you brilliant madman."