Mrs Hudson walked in to find Sherlock on the couch with his face buried into a pillow.
"Have you too had another fight" she had somewhat become their marriage councillor, they weren't married, yet. They would go to her and complain about the other, and she had saved their relationship so many times.
"He's left the flat again, he went out for air, he wants me to stop smoking, but we both know that isn't going to happen any time soon"
"Do you love him? she asked.
"Of course but" he was interrupted.
"Well then stop smoking, if you love him you'll sacrifice your cigarettes to be with him."
He nodded in agreement and said that he would wait till John got back to tell him what he planned on doing. The ground shuddered, his train of thought was interrupted. he got up to look out the window. There was a very large crack down the middle of the road.
Without even thinking he ran out the door, still in his pyjamas. he became increasingly worried about John's safety, his John, the John he would stop smoking for.
"His eyes darted all over the place until he saw a car that was jammed in the post office, in between the post office and the car was John, he tried to push away the car but it wouldn't budge.
Sherlock managed, by some miracle, to shift the car. several ambulances and fire trucks arrived. Sherlock ran towards an ambulance, with his unconscious lover in his arms. they let him ride with John as he slipped in and out of Consciousness.
John was rushed into surgery as soon as they arrived, they left Sherlock standing there still in his pyjamas.
Half an hour went by, an old man came out of surgery to talk to Sherlock.
"Excuse me sir, your on Mr Watson's form as his emergency contact, so you have to make decisions if he cannot". Sherlock nodded, he didn't know where this was going, he had signed the papers himself and so knew what the role of emergency contact required. " the damage to the patient's legs was a lot worse that we first anticipated, I'm afraid he'll never walk again. But he has a serious infection, if we don't amputate it will spread, sir it's your call?"
Sherlock was shocked "if we don't amputate, what will happen?"
"The infection will spread and he will die" the surgeon said quickly, they were running out of time.
"Amputate" Sherlock blurted out and the surgeon ran back into the operating theatre.
He slowly sat down and put his head in his hands.
4 hours later a nurse came to get Sherlock "John wants to see you, he just woke up". Sherlock was dreading this, John had struggled with a limp, with only one leg he probably wouldn't cope at all.
He followed the nurse down the hall to a private room. He smiled at John, but John didn't smile back, he just sat there, "how are you feeling John?" he asked not really sure what to say.
"How am i feeling, how am i feeling, I only have one fucking leg that's how I'm feeling"
I'm sorry John, you would have died if they didn't amputate, I'm so sorry" he lowered his head in shame.
"You should have just let me die Sherlock."
"No John don't say that, please you can't think like that."
"Get out, Sherlock, just get the fuck out of me room" he shouted, Sherlock left obediently.
A week later Harry came to the flat to pick up John's things, John and Sherlock weren't ready to talk not just yet, perhaps they never would be.
