Disclaimer: I do not own Sherlock.

I did not write this myself all credit goes to my friend.

Sherlock's Mumble

I walked thru the halls. The ebony carpet felt thick and warm beneath my feet. The stained glass made colours dance across the walls and floor. I walked calmly to my destination. I had been considering revisiting this horror for a long time, for me. My past loss, my past pain in a gun shot, and my past anguish to overcome John's absence had been affecting my work and to revisit my personal terror would most likely reconcile my fears. So as I walked down the hall to the room where my beloved Mary shot me I heard a faint voice saying hi. It was John's voice. I ignored it and continued into the room. I put myself into the situation and began to feel the searing pain of the bullet passing thru my skin. I began to shake and realized I was once again in shock. Everything turned black

"Sherlock!" John's scared voice called as he ran to Sherlock in disbelief. Sherlock lay on the floor slightly shaking and mumbling . "Mmmmm," Sherlock groaned, he seemed to try to form a word. He lay sprawled out on the floor with his hands reached forward, beckoning to something, or someone. John shook him, in an attempt to wake him from his mind palace. "Mmmmmmmmo," Sherlock moaned again, with a slightly different ending. John sat beside Sherlock hoping he would regain consciousness, because there was nothing to be done. Sherlock came back to reality with John holding him around the arms. "Are you alright?" John asked looking for signs of concussion or anything of that sort. "Yes. I am. Fine, just fine." Sherlock said curtly and rose. He wobbled a bit, and proceeded to the kitchen, where he prepared a cuppa.

"Want any?" He asked.

"Nah, I just um . . ." John ran off, thinking, "I just, ah, just had a cup." He half-heartedly finished." Sherlock," he said with more direction, "where were you and what were you doing that made you shake and mumble? While you were, you started to say something and it looked like you were reaching for something, or someone."

"Oh?" Sherlock turned away from him. Sherlock tried to ignore John and avoid the situation all together, where John coughed trying to be blunt about him wanting to know. Sherlock turned back around cup in hand, "Well, if you insist on knowing . . . Magnessun's office. The night Marry shot me, to save me." He explained quickly hoping for a minor reaction.

"Why were you there, that was months ago, actually two years. Also Magnessun is dead, and what were you saying?"

"I know how long it has been, John," He answered, slightly agitated that John was being too interrogative, "Information was lost in that time, things I did not notice, distracted by my pain." He answered, avoiding the second question.

"Oh so you were basically, just trying to deal with the emotions?" John read him. He was considering re asking what Sherlock was avoiding his question. John asked again what he was trying to say. Sherlock sat down at his microscope and tried to avoid answering for the longest time he could. After realizing waiting would make it worse, he turned to John afraid of his reaction. To try and help him "cope" with the news to come Sherlock prepped John.

"John, I have done many things for you," he paused, John's eyes sparkled with tears thinking back with Mary, " I have saved you from fire, bombings, tipped off you to your wife, yeah, not my best idea. . .well it's okay now. Point being I need to ask something of you. First tell you something."

"Okay, but first you must answer me in what you mumbled while you were being shot, in your mind palace." John answered quickly to get a word in,

"Molly."

"Oh? Why her, I mean she helped you with . . . the . . ."

"Incident, I know, truth be told . . ."

"Yes I know but, why her?" John asked, cutting Sherlock off.

Sherlock looked at John, waiting for him to be quiet. His news was big and he wanted John's full attention. He ran his hand thru his hair and sighed, waiting for John to be finished with all his questions. Sherlock lowered his eyes in fear of his coming comment. John groaned and waited for Sherlock to respond.

"I am going to marry Molly."