A Study In Sleep

Chapter. 35

It had been almost two hours since John had arrived at the hospital and now it was everybody else's time to wait. The torturous ticking of the clock marking every second as it went past.

Mycroft had only gotten Greg's messages and missed calls after his meeting, instantly catching a car over to the hospital as quick as he could.

Running a hand through his damp hair and closing his umbrella, the official finally arrived and speed walked into the hospital. Going straight to the reception and got directed to where Sherlock and Greg would be waiting. His heart beated in his chest loudly, worried for Doctor Watson. Only knowing what it would make Sherlock feel or act, if he were to give way now.
"Thank god, you're okay.." he murmured, seeing his brother and instantly pulled him into a hug. Looking to Greg worriedly before pulling away and looking to Sherlock, "what happened?" He asked.

Sherlock didn’t for one second calm, either fidgeting uncontrollably in the car or pacing in the hospital. No one could calm him, only John and he couldn’t see him, he couldn’t feel him. He continued to cry silently, eyes now red raw and he couldn’t stop.

Greg tried to calm him but nothing could, nothing. As Mycroft came, Greg pulled a face of concern at the sight of Sherlock to Mycroft and immediately as Mycroft hugged Sherlock, the detective pushed him away either angrily or just because he was terrified. He stared at Mycroft as he cried, breaking down once again.
“What am I gonna do Myc?” He sobbed, the detective covered in John's blood, the man a mess.

Mycroft gently brought his hands to his brothers, gently cleaning them on a handkerchief he had been fiddling with in his pocket,
"You're going to pull yourself together and breathe, that's what you're going to do.." he spoke wisely, almost protectively. "Because that is what John would want from you." He spoke gently, tossing the handkerchief in a nearby bin.
"How long has he been in?" Mycroft asked, turning to Greg for the answer.

Sherlock gazed at him like the little brother he was, but the tears wouldn’t stop as he watched Mycroft clean his hands. He couldn’t do either of those commands, Sherlock not being able to control his emotions.

Greg turned at this, clearing his throat.
“About 2 hours now... he.. um Sherlock hasn’t rested at all.” He pointed out as he scratched his head with a sigh.
Sherlock’s hands were shaking and he looked hideous with his red eyes and messy hair.

Mycroft sighed, gently guiding his brother over to the chairs.
"Sherlock, take a seat..." He murmured softly, "I'll go and see what's happening.." he said softly, running a small hand through his brother's hair gently.
"Relax into Gregory, for the time being.." he spoke softly, "it'll be alright.."

Sherlock reluctantly sat down, but he did as his big brother said and he sat down beside Greg, not touching, not saying anything, just eyes fluttering as he felt the hand in his curls before he stared at the floor.
Greg watched him a moment before he got to his feet a moment and he gently dragged Mycroft aside.
“What the hell are we going to do if John is... you know.. he isn’t going to last a week without him.” He whispered worriedly as he held to Mycroft’s hand.
"If I know John, he won't... but if he does, I'll resign from my position and look after him myself." Mycroft replied softly, watching their hands softly before sighing and planting a kiss on Greg's forehead before rushing off after a nurse.

Greg was surprised by Mycroft’s answer, but it wasn’t unexpected either. He savoured the kiss, sighing happily for a short moment before sitting down beside him once more, though Sherlock was out of it, staring into nothing towards the floor though his mind was racing.

Around ten minutes later, Mycroft came back. With a look upon his face, almost smirking, mouthing 'I told you so' to his lover happily. He strode back towards Sherlock and Gregory. A small bounce in his step as he did.
"Good news." He hummed.
Greg smirked back at this as he got to his feet, taking Mycroft’s hand with a blush as he stayed close.
Though Sherlock didn’t understand as he gazed up to his brother.
“What?” He croaked our, voice hoarse and tired.
"John's pulled through and he's in his room now," Mycroft replied, smiling at Gregory then to his brother, "although he isn't conscious yet." He added, "they said you could probably go in and see him." He said to his brother softly.

Sherlock let out a choked cry at this as he placed his head into his hands, sobbing into them, practically shaking in relief.
Greg’s smile soon faltered at this and he looked to Mycroft with a worried look again as he held tightly to his hand.

"Sherlock... talk to us, brother mine.." Mycroft said, running his hand back gently through his brother's curls, "it's nothing to be crying about. He's okay." He murmured softly.

Sherlock didn’t say anything as he continued to crumble, the hand in his curls helping a little. After moments of silence he stood abruptly as he began stumble towards John’s room, wiping away his tears.
“Go after him...” Greg whispered to Mycroft, placing a kiss on his lips before pulling away with a warm smile.
“Don’t be long though.” He teased as he winked.

Mycroft nodded, smiling at the kiss before following his little brother into John's room. Almost like a shadow on a real sunny day. He loved his brother and cared for him deeply, however the state he saw him today had been the first time he had ever seen his brother so effected by something.