Together at Last

Come back

We speed down the streets, rushing Sherlock to the hospital. One of the paramedics tries to help Molly and I, but step back and go to Sherlock when I start yelling. We watch helplessly as they roll Sherlock to emergency surgery, the doors shutting with a grim finality behind him. I sink to the ground, barely feeling Molly's hand on my arm. Someone comes to collect us, sticking everyone in individual rooms to be treated. It is over in about ten minutes, the drug testing. We meet back up in the waiting room, our usual spot I suppose. Mycroft has a slightly bloodied bandage wrapped around his arm, I'm not sure what from. I look at everyone sadly, struggling to remember what happened. Mrs. Hudson is absent, possibly still in treatment.

"What the hell happened?"

Everyone looks expectantly to Mycroft, who is forced to explain what he understands of the situation.

"Sherlock...noticed something, the drugged food. He tried to warn us, too late, and we had already consumed enough for it to work efficiently. Each of us took different amounts, Sherlock least of all because he refuses to eat. Moriarty came in and took advantage of Sherlocks late warning, using that time to...."

He stops talking, breathing deeply in an attempt to calm himself. Greg walks over to him, drawing Mycroft into a tight hug.

"Its okay."

No one seems surprised by this unusual display of affection, everyone finally going silent as the waiting game begins. Mycroft and Greg sit hand in hand on the chairs, both seeming lost and confused. Molly sits alone, crying silently. I start pacing, wincing when I remember how stressed it makes Sherlock when I do this. I cant look at Mycroft and Greg right now, every time I do it hurts.

"John? Are you okay?"

Mrs. Hudson comes into the room, trailed loosely by a nurse. She hugs me tightly and breaks down crying again.

"I shot Sherlock."

Everyone leaves her alone, her emotional state too unpredictable. Same with me, so I continue pacing. She continues crying. Molly comes and sits by Mrs. Hudson, both trying to console the other. They fall asleep after about six hours of waiting silently, though I continue pacing. I cant stop, if I stop ill break down. I cant break down. Someone finaly calls me back, a middle aged woman pulling me through the halls.

"He is in a medicaly induced coma right now, we managed to get the bleeding stopped. He isnt waking up soon, you need to accept that. When he does, the shock is going to be bad. You just need to be careful."

I nod, finaly being allowed back. Sherlock is lying in the bed, looking more lifeless than I have seen him before. His face is bruised, bandages are wrapped around his stomach, and his arm is in a cast again. I'm struggling now, the sight of him lying helplessly is too much. I sink to the chair by the bedside, holding his good hand in mine. I am finally able to sleep, comforted slightly by the sound of the heart monitor beeping steadily.

"John. Get up, you need to leave."

Mycroft is shaking me gently, looking worried.

"What's going on?"

"You need to get up."

"How long was I sleeping for?"

"Since yesterday morning."

"Damn it."

"Its fine. You needed it. We all did, everyone managed to sleep through most of yesterday. I'm sure it wasn't by choice though."

He takes me home, dropping me off and going home himself. The flat smells of baking, Mrs. Hudson must have been sent home as well. I cant stand it for very long, her trying to be normal while Sherlock is lying in the hospital. She offers me something she made, bursting into tears when I yell at her. I pack a bag after she goes back to her flat, grabbing enough clothes for the next week or so. I am able to leave unhindered, catching a cab back to the hospital. The nurse lets me back, shutting the door softly behind her. I dump my bag by the door, sitting back in the chair. Sherlocks fingers twitch slightly when I lie my hand next to his. I don't move for a few seconds, staring in shock at his hand.

"I know you cant hear me, but I'm going to sit here and talk to you anyways. You need to wake up, please. I need you Sherlock. I love you."

My voice cracks and I pause, rubbing my fingers on the back of his hand.

"We...we have all been back here to visit you, though I come back as often as I can. I...I uhh.. Ive been thinking about what you said."

Still nothing, Sherlock is still sleeping. Mycroft comes by every day to pull me out, forcing me to lie down at home. He doesn't try to stop me from coming though, only makes sure I get some sleep. It is day five of this, my lack of sleep is starting to show. I find myself rambling on for longer periods of time, talking to Sherlock for hours at a time.

"Two. We could adopt two kids. Two boys. Hamish and William. And our dog, a red Irish setter. Could go hunting with him, protect the kids, protect the house. Just the five of us together, in a big house in the country."

I'm tearing up again, this is what I want. What we want.

"Please Sherlock. You...you need to wake up. For me. Please. I...I can't do this. I need you. Mrs. Hudson has been baking for the past week, and she dosent stop. Mycroft helps her sometimes, but he mostly immerses himself in his work. Greg has everyone looking for Moriarty, that's their top case right now. They'll find him, I promise you."

I am finally done, words spent. Tears spill from my eyes, I cant stop. This is how most of my visits end, with my crying. I lie my head down on the bed, Sherlocks hand clenched tightly in my own. I feel my fingers start a familiar pattern, tapping morse against Sherlocks skin.

"Hey."

I turn around, searching for the source of the voice. No one is there, just a closed door and empty room. I'm hearing things again, my mind trying to fill the silence left behind. The door opens suddenly, Mycroft coming to take me home for the night.

"He's going to be okay."

"Is that a question?"

"Yes."

"Its okay John. He'll come back, he has always been a fighter."

"Yeah."

We sit in the car in front of the flat, neither one of us wanting to move.