Summary: Sherlock and John get hit by a stupid van while chasing a stupid criminal.

I was out on a case with John when we managed to get ourselves involved in an unfortunate accident. It was another one of those stormy days, raining endlessly and even a brief thunderstorm. It was in the evening, at roughly 7.15 pm when I was chasing a murderer with John. On bicycles. Through Hampstead.

It really was dreadful. We were both soaked to the skin by the rain, and our old rattly bicycles didn't even have good lights on them. They worked, but weren't actually very visible. It was a busy road, but John and I tried to cycle as close together as possible. "Safer", John had said.

But the murderer was getting away. A man who killed his entire family, to take revenge on them for the way they had treated him. Our bicycles couldn't keep up with him, his one being brand new and perfect, ours at least twenty years old and not even close to being in good condition. I found them next to the house where the family was killed. I was only at the crime scene for about 7 minutes when I figured it all out and the bicycles where the only available way to keep up with the murderer at that point.

Anyway, I hated it. I absolutely hated it. Why couldn't we even have proper equipment to follow the man? It was our only option though, because there was nothing else we could do without losing him.

He was definitely getting away. Through the rain and darkness he was now only a faint shape in the distance, but I couldn't give up just like that, so I kept going. We kept going. John turned out to actually be better at cycling than I am and ever will be.

It was then after we had been chasing him for two miles that I noticed a van in a side street, standing still, waiting to be able to get on to the busy road we were cycling along. He kept standing there perfectly still, but for some reason decided to start driving again when John and I were passing him. We were cycling next to each other at that point, John on the left side of us two, which meant he got the full impact of the van. I could only stare into the headlights of the damned thing for a second that felt a lot longer than that, until John fell sideways, crashed into me, I fell and my head collided with the hard asphalt of the London road and everything turned black, a woman's scream somewhere faintly in the distance the last thing I noticed.

It took only a few seconds for me to wake up again. I slowly opened my eyes to the pain of a bicycle on top of me and the rough asphalt I had landed on. Everything hurt. I could see John, getting up slowly.

"Sherlock, oh god are you alright?" He asked when he got himself into a standing position.

"Perfectly fine," I said, sarcastically.

John slowly got his bicycle off me, quickly putting it aside while I was in the progress of sitting up, groaning a bit.

It was then that I started panicking a bit. How embarrassing. It was a busy road, the lights on our bikes weren't very good, it was raining and oh god we were in the middle of the road!

I looked around and saw that all the cars around us had stopped. Oh. No need to panic, apparently. I could feel my legs shaking though and my head was pounding.

A woman came walking towards us, phone in hand.

"I've called 999. An ambulance is on its way," she said. John immediately thanked her.

"There's a bus stop over there, with a bench," said the woman while pointing at it, "it's probably best if you two go and sit down there until the ambulance arrives."

John gave her a grateful nod and walked up to me. I looked at him, still a bit dazed and he took my arm and lead me to the bench. I sat down slowly, still shaking a bit.

I'm not sure, but I think the woman was trying to talk to the driver of the van during the few minutes we were sitting there.

"And now the murderer has gotten away, great..." I murmured. All that effort we put into chasing him, all for nothing.

"I'm sure Lestrade will get him, don't worry." John said. We remained silent after that until the ambulance got there.

Blue flashing hurting my eyes alerted me of its impending arrival. It pulled up close to us and two paramedics got out quickly. From the corner of my eye I noticed the woman rushing back to us.

John and the woman had a bit of a discussion with the paramedics that I couldn't make myself care about and it was decided a trip to the hospital was necessary. John took me by my arm again and lead me to the ambulance. One of the paramedics opened the back doors so I could get in and he gently pushed me to sit down on the stretcher. Apparently that wasn't enough though.

"Sir, can you lie down for me?" the paramedic asked. I wasn't in the mood for arguing so I did what I was told. I could feel the paramedic's hands on my back while I slowly sank down, steadying me.

"So, your friend here told me you hit your head quite hard. I'm going to check your pupillary response, see if you managed to get a concussion."

The man got a little penlight out of his jacket pocket. He turned the light on with a little button and shone it into my eyes. I couldn't help groaning a bit. The light was hurting my eyes quite badly. After both eyes were checked and the light turned off, I closed my eyes.

"Okay, no sign of a concussion but symptoms can present later. I'll check your eyes again in a bit. Are you hurting anywhere right now? Well besides your head, that must hurt quite a bit."

I had to think about it for a few seconds.
"My head hurts but nothing else right now, at least not enough to be more than bruised."

"Alright, that's good. But er, would you mind if I immobilise your neck? Just to be completely on the safe side," the paramedic said, smiling gently. "We'll take some x-rays of your neck at the hospital."

"Oh, just do whatever you want...," I mumbled. I know that doesn't really sound like me but I honestly couldn't care at that point. I was tired and just wanted to sleep, and definitely NOT start an argument.

While I was slowly drifting away a bit I felt a blanket being thrown over me and two block like things made of foam being placed next to my head. There was some fiddling, probably the straps being fastened. Soon I was unable to move my head and felt the ambulance starting to move.

"Can you keep your eyes open for me?"

I sighed and slowly opened my eyes again. I groaned. The lights in the ambulance were far too bright.

"You have to stay awake," John said.

"Oh for god's sake... You want me to keep my eyes open even though the light is torturing me? Lovely. Thank you John...," I mumbled angrily.

John sighed and decided to ignore me for a bit, talking with the paramedic about what happened to us. My eyes slowly started closing again and I couldn't really do anything against it. It was so much better like that anyway. I hadn't slept in three days because of multiple boring cases.

Then John decided to scare me to death by giving my arm a little nudge. My eyes flew back open and I tried to sit up, but was stopped by one of John's hands on my chest and whatever I was strapped down with.

"Jawnnnn, why did you do that? Just let me sleep..." I mumbled angrily.

"You can't sleep right now, Sherlock. You might have a concussion, for god's sake."

"Steve? We're nearly there!"
It was the driver of the ambulance, shouting at the paramedic who was with us.

"Right, time for a little bit more torture. I'm going to check your eyes again," said the paramedic, apparently called Steve, gently.

I gave a little groan. Oh lord not again...

The light felt like it was burning my eyes. I wanted to scream, but I managed to limit it to a little whimper.

"Still no sign of a concussion, you're lucky!"

How can a paramedic be that cheery? It should be prohibited.

It only took two more minutes until we arrived at the A&E. I kept my eyes closed during those minutes.

The two paramedics opened the back doors of the ambulance and carefully got the stretcher out with me on it. It felt to me like it only took seconds for us to be on our way. I was quickly rushed inside, to the trauma room. John ran along with us. My eyes where half opened and I could only stare at the ceiling and passing lights above me. It felt like a scene from some terrible medical drama and I'm not even exaggerating when I say that.

All the moving stopped abruptly, but a confusing bustling around me picked up quickly.

It felt like only two seconds until there was suddenly an x-ray machine in the room, ready to take some pictures of my neck. I think John disappeared from the room then to get looked at, he was in the same accident after all, though he, as was proved during that time, only had some bruising. Still not very nice though, bruises can hurt like hell.

After the x-ray it became more quiet in the room. Pretty much everyone had gone off to look at it. I was still there though in the same spot, unable to move. I could only stare into the bright lights. God, what is it with hospitals and bright lights? Do they ever consider people who cannot stand them? Apparently not.

I started to panic a little bit. I really wanted to move, but I was stuck there, still lying on the stretcher. I couldn't stand it. Is it so much to ask for, just to be to MOVE? At least John materialised at my side out of nowhere at that point, or I would have had a severe panic attack.

"John..." I said quietly, "I can't stand it. I want to... NEED to... move."

"It's okay Sherlock. This is all just to be on the safe side. If you even have the tiniest break somewhere in your neck, moving can make everything a lot worse. It'll be alright, okay? It's probably not even broken, but we can't risk it."

Right. I sighed.

"So... How is my blogger doing? You were in the same accident and all that."

John smiled. "I'm fine, just a bit bruised. Could do with some tea and sleep. I really w-"

John got cut off by a doctor entering the room.

"Hello Mr Holmes. We would like a urine sample, just to be completely on the safe side. Would you mind?"

I groaned. Before I was able to say anything though, John was the one to speak.

"That won't be a problem. I'll help him, thank you."

Lovely. Some embarrassing moments later I never want to think about again we had a urine sample for the doctor to examine.

I was ready to drift off a bit, when another doctor came in and decided it would be good to take a look at my body to see how nice and blue I had already become. Unnecessary really. When the doctor was finished and looked me in the eye, some of my deductions came out. "Single, three cats and a dog, date tomorrow, allergic to peanuts..."

The doctor looked uncomfortable and soon backed off again, deeming my bruises nothing to worry about.

After a few minutes someone walked in again.
Leave me alone...

"Good news Mr Holmes! We've had a good look at your x-ray and everything looks fine. There was also no blood in your urine and you don't seem to have a concussion so you're free to go home! We're going to get you out of all those straps first and we'll go with sitting up slowly for a bit. We don't want to rush things, it's always important to take some time for this."

I was soon a free man again. John helped me up and I had to sit for a few minutes first. After a bit of angry deductions, swearing and signing forms I was allowed to get away from there.

John and I slowly walked out of the hospital. I was quite stiff from being stuck in the exact same position for too long so I struggled a bit with walking in a straight line. We got a taxi back to Baker Street.

Once in the flat I immediately went to my bedroom and curled up under my sheets. I just wanted to sleep and I was finally aloud to!

The next few days I remained a bit stiff and the bruises were troubling me. There wasn't even one comfortable position I could lie in! I wasn't the only though, John had the same issue.

A week later Lestrade came round. He had talked to driver of the van. He wasn't drunk or anything, he just really needed to be on his way to Birmingham before the end of the day. In his haste he didn't see Sherlock and John.

"Well," mumbled John, "accidents happen all the time."

The end.

_
Notes:

So, I hope you enjoyed that! It's pretty much what happened to me as a 6-year-old kid. Not much fun, that day was. I was really scared!

If you think Sherlock's a bit OOC it's because it's based on my experience. (Obviously...)
I managed to get out of it with some bad bruises and a bad headache, but I was otherwise fine, like my mother who was with me when that stupid van hit us... Anywayyyy... Thanks for reading this ridiculous thing that was written in the middle of the night!

If you notice any grammar or spelling mistakes in this, please let me know! Not having English as a first language can cause quite a bit of struggling.

I also published this on my wattpad account, JoyDivision0504