A/N: Hello all! This is a new story I've been working on. It's mostly Johnlock but there are some other couples throughout the story. Hopefully you enjoy it as much as I've enjoyed writing it! It will get better, I promise.
-Kennedy

1) …with a gun

I sigh. Another day of chasing psychotic killers. It's odd how I've become so used to this. I follow Sherlock down the dark alley. It's always a dark alley. I breathe quietly and feel irritated that the cold weather leaves a white puff after each exhale. I almost bump into Sherlock as he stops behind a bin. I'm surprised at the heat radiating from his seemingly cold body. I hear the killer's feet clatter down the alleyway and I leap up, ready to follow Sherlock. He pulls me down quickly and I feel a bullet whiz near my head. My heart beats loudly and I gulp. I thank the bloody stars that it's dark, because if not, I'd most likely be dead. I hear the killer leave again and Sherlock jumps up and runs after him. I frown as I follow, not knowing how exactly he knew. The man runs through a few more back alleyways and I struggle to keep up with Sherlock's long legs. We climb up a ladder and jump to the roof besides us. The killer is on the ground, still running. Sherlock and I climb down just as the killer turns the corner. He slips towards us even more because of the wet ground. He pulls his gun up, facing Sherlock's chest and I feel my stomach clench. I jump in front of him and I hear a click. The killer ran out of bullets. The heart in my throat is still beating but I manage to sigh in relief at our luck. Sherlock runs toward the man and I yell as I see a flash of silver. Sherlock jumps to the side but it's a bit too late. His shirt is torn and there's some blood seeping through the navy blue fabric. I look up and find myself face to ugly face with the killer. He tackles me down and takes the gun from my grasp. I look into his eyes and I feel pain sear through my body. It hurts worse than the first time and I feel myself drifting. My blurry vision spots Sherlock elbow the man in the temple and I see the man's figure slump to the floor. Sherlock's blotchy figure moves to my side and I feel a weight in my hair. The heavenly sounds of an ambulance and police cars ring in my ears. Mycroft probably sent for the ambulance as soon as he saw Sherlock get cut. Thank goodness for his CCTV cameras. I smirk as much as I can through the pain. Sherlock's soothing hand is making me even drowsier and I see his mouth moving. I feel the ground rumbling and a gurney is placed next to me. My eyes start slipping closed and Sherlock's tight grip on my arm jerks me back to consciousness slightly. He's yelling and I see a nurse pat his shoulder. They place inside the ambulance and as Sherlock sits next to me, I fall asleep.

~o~o~

I wake up to bright lights and a hand squeezing my arm tightly. I look to my side and find Sherlock, watching my face intently. I hear him call for a nurse and I sigh gratefully that my hearing is fine.

"Are you feeling better?" Sherlock asks.

"I've been better." I mumble.

He sits back and lets his eyes flutter.

"Why haven't you slept? You need sleep." I scold and he scoffs.

The nurse comes in and asks me routine questions. She leaves when she's confident I'm fine and I turn to Sherlock again.

"How long have I been in here?"

"Two days." he answers and I huff in exasperation.

"So you haven't slept for five days."

"I'm fine, John!" he snaps and I wince as his hand constricts my arm more.

His eyes widen and he lets go. I lay back and he drops his head.

"Sleep, Sherlock. I'll be here in the morning." I smile at him.

He gives in and curls up like a cat on the plush couch he's on. Once again, Mycroft has given us an exquisite hospital room. Tiredness consumes me and I snuggle into the warm blankets. Sherlock's hand comes up and grabs my arm and I smile when I see he's not awake. Subconscious movement I realize as I drift to sleep.