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A/N Hey My Lovelies!!! This is it!! the final chapter!!! Hope you guys liked this one!!! It's been fun to write. Keep your eyes open for my next AU book....not 100% what it's going to be yet...but its gonna be good ;) Enjoy<3

John was pacing anxiously in the halls.

He had been kicked out of the room when Sherlock's heart monitors started wailing, and no one was telling him anything. He asked every nurse that came from the direction of Sherlock's room if he could see his friend, but since he wasn't family, they wouldn't talk to him. He called Greg, hoping he could convince him to call Mycroft.

"John? What's going on?"

"Sherlock's in the hospital."

"Jesus. What happened?"

"He- he tried to- h-his wrists-"

"Fuck mate. Is he okay?"

"I don't know. He was unconscious, then the machines started screaming and they kicked me out. They won't let me back in and they won't tell me anything-"

"Alright, hang tight. I'm with Mycroft now, we'll be there in twenty minutes."

"Thank you, Greg."

"No worries Mate." John hung up the phone and dropped heavily into a chair, growling and tugging at his hair. He wanted to be with Sherlock, sitting by his side until he woke. He wanted to be there when the young man came to.

A sudden commotion further down the hall drew his attention.

"Get out!" A familiar voice shouted, the sound followed shortly by a crashing sound. A pair of nurses stumbled out of the room, ducking as a tray of food hit the wall above their heads. "Let me out of here!" John rose to his feet, knowing he couldn't do anything, but ready just in case.

The thin frame of Sherlock Holmes staggered out of the room, pulling tubes and wires out of his hands and wrists. The nurses reached for him, but he brushed them off, shouting obscenities and throwing weak punches.

"Sherlock!" He shouted, stepping towards the angry young man. Sherlock froze, spinning to find John. He saw him and grinned, a bright smile that looked out-of-place on his pale, lifeless face.

"John!" He tried running forward, but tripped over his own feet and stumbled, nearly falling. John shot forward, catching the pile of limbs before he could hit the floor.

"Jesus Mate, what the fuck are you thinking? You lost almost all your blood, you shouldn't be up-"

"You weren't there." John gaped up at the man, not fully comprehending what he was saying.

"W-What- what?"

"I woke up and you weren't there. I-I had to find you." John's heart began racing at those words, his head spinning and hope causing his chest to swell.

"Sher- Sherlock-"

"You dated him for three months, you would go to coffee shops, and the library. You hunted for a way to bring him back, then when you finally figured it out, you wound up with me and I broke your heart." John sighed, Sherlock knew the memories, but didn't have the emotions that went with them. At least he remembered who John was.

"We need to get you back to bed-" Sherlock grabbed his face with more strength than he should have had, and pulled him up for a kiss.

He was kissing Sherlock Holmes. In real life, the real Sherlock Holmes, and he was too stunned to respond.

"His touch would make your heart race dangerously due to the electricity it took to sustain him, but you ignored the pain and kept kissing him." John knew he must look like a fool, but all he could do was nod and gape. "When you collapsed, he wanted nothing more than to help you, to try to restart your heart so he wouldn't lose you. But he was the one that stopped your heart and it almost killed him knowing that he had killed you."

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