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The next few waking hours were a drug induced haze for Sherlock. He vaguely remembered coming to when he was injected with something before swiftly passing out again. The next time he awoke he felt various hands tending to his wounds, he groaned as something stung the cut on his forehead. Weakly he tried to use his hand to bat it away but the limb felt as if it were made of lead, barely rising at all before gentle hands pushed it back down. For some reason that made him panic, struggling against the force. It didn't matter he was beyond weak from blood loss and drugs. Later he would vaguely remember calling for John and voices he didn't recognize tell him to be calm.

The third time he awoke he was blissfully numb, not the normal kind when your body was healthy though, the medicated kind. The type of numb that made his skin tingle and his body heavy, however it was marginally better than being in pain. He blinked his heavy lids open and found himself in a hospital room, sheets coming up to his armpits. The arms themselves were laying over the blanket both heavily bandaged. His hands and fingers were completely covered in white strips, there was an IV in each arm, one with blood, one with medication of some kind. He turned his head slowly and came face to face with his reflection in a silver metal tray propped up against the wall. By the looks of it, it was for holding surgical tools, somebody had sat it there after use.

He looked better than the last time he saw his own face, much better. His skin was still very pale but the cuts had been stitched up, making him look like some demented frankinstine. However the blood was cleared away and he'd been cleaned during his black out. He could feel bandages around his mid section was well. The increase on his heart monitor must of alerted the doctors because the door opened to reveal a man in blue scrubs, Lestrade wasn't far behind.

"Ah good you're awake," The inspector smiled, "How do you feel?"

"Strange..." Sherlock admitted finally, "Where's John, did you find him?"

Lestrade stiffened.

"Inspector I think it best we let my patient rest for a little longer before you start you investigation." The doctor cut in. Sherlock's brow furrowed, What investigation?

"Sir I want you to tell me everything you can about the last two days," The doctor asked gently.

"Leaving for dinner with John, on Monday then...nothing." Sherlock said slowly, "You're hiding something Lestrade, tell me!"

"You don't remember anything at all?" The doctor confirmed, "Not even a hazy detail?"

"There are, flashes" Sherlock said finally, "But I can't...I don't understand them, they are there then they are gone. Now, I answered your questions now answer mine!"

The doctor held up his hands defensively, sighing and heading for the door.

"He's all yours"

The door closed with a quiet click, Sherlock glared at Lestrade.

"Well, we looked at your injuries and most of them are congruent with a struggle" Lestrade began, Sherlock snorted.

"Obviously Lestrade, I'm not just going to stand there and let somebody do this to me" He indicated to his injuries. Thankfully the heaviness was leaving him enough to move his arms a bit.

"Yeah well," Lestrade started again uncomfortably, "Quite a bit of the blood on your clothes was yours obviously but...not all of it"

"Well who's is it?" Sherlock snapped, he really wished people could just get to the facts.

"Listen Sherlock, there was a lot of their blood on you, almost two liters worth" Lestrade continued, "The most obvious answer being the person who you fought with"

"Yes and it appears I may or may not of killed him in self defense I understand that Lestrade get on with it we need to find John!" Sherlock snapped

"That's the thing Sherlock...it's John's blood" Lestrade said slowly.

Sherlock was stunned into silence. John's blood? No it couldn't be, that would mean he'd...but he'd never kill John! John would never attack him! Sure John had the strength to inflict these injuries but he never would. John was his...friend right?

"We're still running tests to find more evidence but, that's what he have so far" Lestrade continued after Sherlock didn't reply.

"You're sure you don't remember?" Lestrade probed, Sherlock glared at him.

"Don't you think if I remembered I'd be figuring this out a lot faster?" He snarled

"It's just, you said 'I may or may not of killed him' before," Lestrade pointed out, "How could you know it was a man?"

Sherlock's mouth opened but no sound came out. Did he really say that? Perhaps he was remembering on a subconscious level, that had to be it. But he refused to believe the man he was attacking was John, never John.

"Sherlock?" Lestrade called, "Come on say something, Sherlock please."

Flash!

Sherlock groaned as a bright white light invaded his vision for a second, leaving him dazed and seeing spots. To stop the wave of dizziness he closed his eyes, resting his face in his palm. He could hear voice but they were muddled between reality and memory. There was another flash, this time the voice of Lestrade and the doctors disappeared completely.

He was standing in a cold room with a stone floor and concrete walls. The only light came from a small window at the top of the room, they were mostly underground, the window was at ground level. He had something metal in his hand, what was it? A pipe? A gun? He couldn't make his memory self look down to check. He was looking down at something on the ground. Somebody.

John.

He was on his knees, one hand wrapped around his stomach staunching the blood flow. His head was turned up, looking at Sherlock standing above him, how long had they been here?

"Sherlock please..." John begged.

Flash!

Sherlock gasped as he was thrown from the memory back into the present time. He could hear the sound of his heart monitor beeping much too fast and Lestrade calling to him, somebody was shaking him. He looked up to see the doctor.

"Mr. Holmes can you hear me?"

He nodded, wanting nothing more than to bat the annoying physician away, the only doctor he wanted was John. The memory played itself over in his head, much less violently that time. He'd been standing over an injured John, he had a weapon in his hand, he didn't know what kind but he knew it was a weapon. John had begged him, to do...what?

Surely he couldn't of been begging for mercy...Sherlock would never attack John no matter what he'd done, not like that.

Right?

"Must of been a flash back," The doctor concluded, "What did you remember?"

"John," He answered simply, "He was...hurt."

"Were you the one hurting him?" The doctor raised an eyebrow.

'I don't know' Sherlock thought

"No." He replied, "He was asking me to help him..."

"Anything else?" Lestrade asked, a lot more gently than the doctor. Sherlock shook his head.

"Well then" The doctor said after he finished taking notes, "Your injuries are extensive but now that they have been taken care of, not life threatening, I'd like to keep you under surveillance will go into more detail about your injuries later, Otherwise, you should be able to leave late tomorrow"

Thank goodness for that, he'd hate having to spend too much time here. However it was still too long, he had to get the time shortened.

"That's too long, I need to find John"

"I've got half the yard on it Sherlock," Lestrade insisted, "We're looking for him I promise."

"I can't help but wonder Mr. Holmes" His doctor said as he opened the door, "You seem very worried about your...'friend'."

"I didn't kill him, he was my friend" Sherlock said defensively, "That blood is purely circumstantial."

"That may be true Mr. Holmes but if you are such great friends, why did you leave him when he was obviously injured?" The doctor asked, Sherlock felt his stomach drop.

Lestrade swore and left to yell at the doctor, Sherlock hardly noticed.

He had a point, those blood smears clearly showed he'd made his way home on his own free will. His memory showed John was injured, why would he leave John behind? He'd rather die than abandon John. So why would he leave him?

Unless...unless he'd been the one to attack John, been injured in self defense, finished the job and left...

No. He would never of killed John, not by his own will that was for sure.

He was becoming emotional, all these feelings were clouding his judgment. There was no solid proof that John was even dead. Yes he had lost a lot of blood but not enough to been conclusive proof of death. He was out there somewhere, injured and he needed Sherlock to save him. And he would.

Because he didn't kill John.

He didn't hurt John...