Sherlock landed with a crunch, his body splayed out on a concrete landing of the stairwell of the parking garage. The dim green lighting from a neon sign outside shown into the dimly lit square of space through a foggy window. Sherlock shifted his body slightly. A choked gasp escaped his mouth as his arms jerked against the cold ground as he moved. Sharp pain stabbed into his lower back and his face crinkled against the sudden onset of pain. He arched his back involuntarily, trying to relieve the feeling.
John flew down the concrete stairs, the toes of his shoes tapping against the edges of the steps as he sped down them. When he reached the bottom, his knees hit the floor hard as he went to his friend. "Sherlock, are you alright? Look at me. Can you move? Does it hurt? Where does it hurt?" John's hands were already on his phone, entering 999 to order an ambulance.
Sherlock's eyes were tightly closed and his face pale. The sound of his shaky breaths shuddered through the echoey chamber. He shifted and muffled a cry, his face contorting to hold back a sob. He grabbed at John, taking a iron-tight grip on his sleeve.
The phone tucked between John's ear and his shoulder, John's hands hurriedly ran over the bones in Sherlock's neck, chest and sides to ascertain if anything was broken. "Sherlock, you have to tell me where it hurts. Hello, yes, I would like to request an ambulance at Olympia car park at the corner of Maclise and friend's had a fall and he's badly injured."
"Back." Sherlock choked the words out as he contorted against another shudder of pain that overtook his body. A strangled whimper escaped him.
John nodded and laid a calm hand on Sherlock's shoulder. "He's hurt his back, fell down a flight of stairs and landed on concrete. ...alright. ...We'll be waiting. Thank you." He hung up. "The ambulance will be here soon. Try to hold on, alright? Help is coming."
Sherlock nodded slightly, his eyes still closed tightly. His fingers were tightly grasping John's jumper and his thumb slowly rubbed itself along the fabric. "He.. He ran..."
John clasped a hand over Sherlock's. "Hush. We'll find him. Just lie still."
Sherlock relaxed slightly, the tension in his torso easing just a little. His eyes slowly dragged open. He looked up at John who was bathed in the green neon light. A small smile of relief twitched at the corner of his mouth. The fabric of John's jeans dragged against the floor as he settled into a seated position next to his friend. "Help's coming. You're going to be okay."
Sherlock looked at him for a moment and then closed his eyes, fully believing John's words. Everything was going to be fine.