Sherlock clutched his left arm and winced in pain. His arm had been aching all day for some unknown reason and now it began to throb even worse. The pain seemed to seep into his chest as well. He slowed to a stop and leaned against the lockers. He suddenly felt as though the air was taken from him. He gasped and his vision blurred slightly. A blonde boy suddenly popped in front of him
"Hey! Hi! Come with me!" the boy exclaimed, tugging on Sherlock's arm gently.
Sherlock squinted at him, trying to focus on the boy's face.
"Who are….who are…you?" Sherlock asked breathlessly.
"John, now come with me! Quickly!" the boy said, tugging a bit more urgently.
Sherlock allowed himself to be pulled along. The boy had a hold of his hand now and was pulling him toward some unknown location. A few moments of hastened walking later, the boy-John burst through the nurse's office door and pulled Sherlock towards the bed.
"Call an ambulance!" John shouted at the nurse, "He's having a heart attack!"
Sherlock blanched. I'm going to die, Sherlock thought calmly. John pushed him down on the bed and straightened his legs out flat. Sherlock gasped hard and clutched at his chest as a sharp pain stabbed through him. John's head appeared above him. He blinked rapidly, trying to rid himself of the tears that were forming. He really didn't want to die crying his eyes out.
"Hey, you," John said soothingly, "It's going to be ok. What's your name?"
"Shhh…errrr…." Sherlock paused to take a gasping breath, "Lockkkk."
"Sherlock, huh?" John said, "That's a nice name."
John brushed some of Sherlock's sweat curls out of his face.
"Focus on me Sherlock," John said, "Tell me, do you have any siblings?"
Sherlock squeezed his eyes closed in an effort to remember if he did or not.
"Broth…er…" Sherlock muttered.
"Older?" John pressed.
Sherlock nodded jerkily.
"Breathe, Sherlock," John instructed gently, "In through the nose. That's good. Out through the mouth. Good. Relax. You're gonna be ok. So do you have a girlfriend?"
Sherlock shook his head, trying to focus on John's words and not the pain in his chest.
"Not my thing," he said through clenched teeth.
"Oh. Oh," John said, the realization hitting him, "Boyfriend then?"
Sherlock squinted at John, trying to keep his breathing normal.
"Sch-sch….schoooll…" Sherlock mumbled.
"Ah, focusing on school," John said, his hand finding Sherlock's forehead, "Smart choice, Sherlock, but makes for a lonely life. Hey, focus on me. Sherlock! Focus on me!"
Sherlock's eyes were unfocused and his eyelids fluttered. John patted his face.
"Sherlock! None of that! Look at me!" John shouted.
Sherlock focused on John's face for a second before pain sliced through his chest again. He screeched and his eyes squeezed closed. Then it was black. All black and cold and he couldn't hear anything.
Sherlock sat bolt upright and gasped hard. He fell backwards and curled onto his side. He groaned loudly. Damn it hurt. He pressed his fingers to his temple and squeezed his eyes closed in an effort to keep the raging headache from breaking through. He groaned loudly and felt like throwing up.
"Sherlock, are you alright?" Mycroft's cool voice drifted over him.
Sherlock opened his eyes a bit and looked about for his brother, who was sitting on the chair beside his bed.
"I'm fine," Sherlock answered in raspy voice.
"Do you remember what happened?" Mycroft questioned.
"John saved me," Sherlock stated, "Didn't he?"
"Indeed he did," Mycroft confirmed, "He managed to get your heart to restart before the paramedics arrived."
"My heart stopped?" Sherlock wondered out loud.
"Yes, John said it was for a whole minute," Mycroft replied.
"Where…where is he?" Sherlock asked hesitantly.
"At school I would imagine," Mycroft answered, "It is school time."
"Oh," was all Sherlock could manage.
His chest still ached lightly and he felt weak. He wondered how long he would be able to lay here without doing anything. Probably quite a while, considering he'd had a heart attack.
"You do know why you had a heart attack, don't you?" Mycroft asked in what most people would think was a gentle tone.
But Sherlock knew that was his "pressure" voice. The voice he used to apply pressure when he wanted something.
"The smoking," Sherlock said dryly.
"Don't act stupid, Sherlock," Mycroft snapped.
Sherlock rolled his eyes, though it made his head hurt.
"What does it matter anyway?" Sherlock demanded in a hoarse voice.
"It matters because you need to quit before you die!" Mycroft said in a barely controlled voice.
Sherlock didn't answer and merely rolled over to face away from his brother. Of course he knew why he'd had the heart attack. Only an idiot would not know that it was the drugs.
He was released some days later. He didn't know how many days and he really didn't care. His thoughts were mostly occupied by withdrawals and a certain blonde who had heroic tendencies. He'd asked Mycroft for the boy's last name, but Mycroft said he didn't know. He found that infuriating. How could a person know everything he was doing every minute of the day, but didn't know the last name of the boy who saved his life? Stupid git.
When he went back to school, he searched for the boy. He'd managed to convince the secretary to give him a list of all the Johns in the school. It was nice to have the list, except that there was an annoyingly large amount of Johns and he was distracted by an itchy feeling all over his skin. He looked at the list and read the first name.
"John Adams," he read quietly to himself, "Homeroom 208."
He tried to remember what grade homeroom 208 was, but couldn't. He'd probably deleted the information, thinking it was useless to him. Not that it mattered since he didn't know what grade John was in anyway. He let out a frustrated noise and scratched at his arm. Maybe I ought to go find Jim before I find John, he considered briefly. He shook his head, trying to clear it of the constant buzzing and the thoughts of getting drugs. He had to quit…he wasn't quite sure why yet, but he couldn't die yet. There was still something that needed him. Or maybe it was someone?
Little note: Shouldn't have posted this...Oh well! Just because I have a million stories floating around doesn't mean I can't handle it! :P