John watched as Sherlock fell. He saw the iconic coat flail upwards as his best friend fall down. He was running across the street before he knew it himself. He didn't want it to be true. He replayed the last conversation that he had with the detective.

"Okay, look up. I'm on the rooftop."

"Oh god."

"I— I— I can't come down so we'll just have to do it like this." John was looking up at the roof.

"What's going on?"

"An apology. It's all true"

"What?"

"Everything they said about me. I invented Moriarty."

"Why are you saying this?"

"I'm a fake."

"Sherlock—"

"The newspapers were right all along. I want you to tell Lestrade, I want you to tell Mrs. Hudson and Molly. In fact, tell anyone who will listen to you. That I created Moriarty for my own purposes."

"Okay, shut up, Sherlock. Shut up. The first time we met—the first time we met—you knew all about my sister, right?"

"Nobody could be that clever."

"You could."

John pulled his mind out of the past and put it into the present. He was performing CPR on his best friend. He pushed the curly black hair out of her face and then started up the compressions again. He checked her heart beat and then the paramedics arrived. He watched as the EMTs loaded her onto the stretcher and then into the ambulance.

"Wait!" John shouted, "I'm Dr. John Watson, I'm her doctor." The EMTs nodded and he jumped into the back unaware of anything else going on.


The ambulance blared through the crowded London streets as John grabbed Sherlock's hand. He looked at her. Blood was smeared down the side of her face and was matting her curls. The EMTs were still assessing the damage, but John knew it wasn't good. The likelihood of Sherlock surviving that type of fall were slim, but the solider was still hopeful. The ambulance pulled to a screeching halt and the doctors and nurses pulled Sherlock out of the vehicle and into the hospital.

"Sir?" One of the EMTs said, looking at John. John looked up from where Sherlock had been taken, his gaze still somewhat far away.

"Y-yes?" he stuttered.

"You'll need to go to the waiting room and fill out some paperwork for us, if you can. If not, call a relative or someone for your friend." With that being said, the EMT left and John trudged into the hospital.

He sat down in the waiting room, filled out the papers and stayed for what felt like hours. No one called him, no one texted him. He was waiting for Mycroft to send a text or even a car for him, but they never arrived. John just stared at the wall until a doctor came out.

"Sherlock Holmes?" John shot out of his chair when he heard that name be called.

"Yes?" John asked impatiently. "Dr. John Watson." He said, introducing himself.

"Ah, Dr. Watson, Ms. Holmes suffered from a couple of major broken bones and trauma to the head. She's knocked out right now because of medication but we are on the lookout for signs of a coma. It's common for-" John cut the doctor off.

"Yes I know. Can I go see her now?" The doctor nodded and led John to room 221. John smiled a little when he saw the room number but then he gasped when he walked into the room.

Sherlock's legs, and arms were covered in plaster. Her head was wrapped in thick, white gauze, which was slowly turning red, and her hair had been cut short.

"Uh, her left leg was shattered, her right calf was just broken, both of her arms were broken and we had to cut her hair when we were operating. Her ribs are all broken, but thankfully, despite that, she didn't receive any organ damage." The doctor listed the damage. The solider nodded and pulled the plastic chair up to Sherlock's bedside and sat there, holding her hand. The doctor took this as his cue to leave. John sat there, in hospital room 221, crying as his best friend and crush lay in limbo.

John refused to leave Sherlock's side until she woke up. He remembered waking up from his surgery in Afghanistan with no one around besides doctors and he hated that feeling. He moved to use the bathroom and get food; that was it. Nobody came around. Mrs. Hudson was used to them being out for days on end, Lestrade was most likely working on some case and Mycroft sent John a text asking about something irrelevant. John finally left the hospital to get showered and change after the third day of waiting. The staff assured him that the second something changed, he would know.

John walked back to the flat. He needed to think about everything that was happening to him. His best friend jumped off a building, because she said she was fraud, and John knew that she was facing off with Moriarty before she jumped, so it had to be something that he said to her to make her jump. John turned onto Baker Street and entered the flat. The air tasted stale, so he opened a window to let in some fresh air. Mrs. Hudson had left some food in the fridge for the pair for when they got home from the case. John grabbed the jam and spread it on some bread that they had left over from the previous week. He ate his bread and then went into the shower.

For the first time in years, John broke down crying as he sat on the floor of the tub while water rained down on him from the shower head. He cried for his sister, for his parents, for his lost friends in the army, and most of all he cried for Sherlock. The wonderful woman he met who saved his life. If he didn't meet the quirky detective, he probably would have ended up killing himself. He stayed in the shower until the water ran cold. He slowly stood up, turned off the water, got out, and toweled off. He changed into a jumper, a pair of jeans and pulled socks on, deciding to stay at the flat for the night. He walked by Sherlock's room. He wanted to open the door but decided against it, because he knew if he went in, he would break down crying. He went into the living room of the flat and settled into Sherlock's armchair. He snuggled up into the blanket that she had on the back and inhaled her scent. He soon fell asleep, feeling secure wrapped in Sherlock's familiar smell.


John woke up to the sound of his phone ringing. He blindly grabbed it from in his pocket.

"Hello?" he mumbled out, his voice sounding gravely from sleep.

"Dr. Watson, this is St. Bart's." John sat up straight when he heard who was on the other side of the phone call.

"Yes, has something happened?" He asked nervously.

"Well, she seems to be waking up."

John almost dropped the phone, "I'll be there in ten minutes."

"Alright." The nurse said and hung up. John flew out of the flat after shoving his shoes on. He, once again, decided to walk to Bart's, because he still needed time to clear his head. He arrived ten minutes later and went to the second floor.

"Can I help you?" the nurse behind the counter asked. John turned to looked at her.

"Uh, Sherlock Holmes?" he mumbled.

"Room 221, down the corridor and on your left." She handed John a visitor's pass and he tried not to run down the hall. He got to her room and paused outside to compose himself. He took a deep breath, and pushed the door open. John walked in and stared at the bed. Sherlock was still lying on her back, and she had water by the top of her bed. John pulled the plastic chair next to her and sat down to wait.

John was in the room for roughly twenty minutes before he noticed that Sherlock was waking up. He grabbed her hand and waited until she was awake.

"John?" she mumbled. She was blinking her eyes to get the sleep out and to focus on John, who smiled as she woke up.

"I'm here, Sherlock." He said as he let go of her hand, but as he moved his hand away, she held tight, not realizing her arms were broken. "Oi, watch your arms." He said, chuckling slightly. Sherlock smiled a little and then groaned.

"What happened?" she muttered. He looked at her, surprised.

"Y-you don't r-remember?"

"No, I remember, I just don't want to talk about it right now. But I have to hear it and you're here right now." She smiled a little. John almost melted when he saw that smile.

"Well, basically, uh Moriarty and you faced off and he must have said something for you to jump. You called me and you told me that you were a fake, and that you were ashamed about it and then you jumped. You have a shattered leg, a broken calf and two broken arms, and you have a major concussion." John mumbled out as he heard Sherlock let out a sigh of relief.

"Two broken arms?"

"Yeah, that's what doctors said. You must have tried to break your fall with your arms. Not very smart on your part." John smirked.

"Don't be such an idiot John." She returned.

"Never do that again. Sherlock. I'm serious, when I saw you on the ground, I thought I lost you forever. I nearly had a heart attack in the ambulance." She nodded at him and stared at the wall across from her bed.

"Has Mycroft called yet?" she asked and John was surprised. She hated her brother.

"Not yet, he texted me four days ago, the day after you jumped. He was asking about Moriarty, I ignored him because I was worrying about you, the first two days after severe head trauma are the worst, that's when people usually lapse into a coma." John admitted, pulling out his phone. He brought up Mycroft's text and showed it to Sherlock.

"Ah, just asking about Moriarty, typical Mycroft. I'm surprised he didn't follow up when you didn't answer or when he didn't see us enter the flat at night." John nodded a little. He let out a sigh. "John? What's wrong?" Sherlock asked.

John stared at her and blinked back tears that he was holding in. He started to laugh a little. "Sherlock! For the genius that you are, you are really thick sometimes! I thought for the past four days that you were going to leave me and I would never get to tell you what I really want to tell you! It took you jumping off a building for me to realize that I love you. I absolutely love you. I love everything about you. I'm sorry if you don't feel the same way but I had to tell you. I can't believe it took me this long to tell you." John said as he wiped his face with his sleeve and sighed again.

"John? Are you serious?" She looked into John's eyes, searching for any hints of a lie, "you are serious. Thank god. John, I know I'm not the best at social cues or expressing my feelings, but that's who I am. I know that I'm attracted to you, both physically and emotionally, if that makes sense. You make me feel human when no one else can. You make me happy, nobody has ever done that before. John, I think I love you too."


Hi everyone! So here's a new story! I'm taking a break from Criminal Minds for a bit because frankly I don't like the new episodes.

Here is my first Sherlock fic! It features Fem!Sherlock and John!

Thanks to my wonderful beta daleksanddetectives, this is tens time better! I hope you all enjoy and leave me reviews!