This is the penultimate chapter of this series.
Sorry for any mistakes.
4. Concussion
"Sherlock? Sherlock, can you hear me?" The voice was slowly becoming clearer to the consulting detective and, as his eyes began to focus a little more, he found the concerned face of his friend hovering above his head. Sherlock opened his mouth to speak, to ask John what was going on, but instead a choked coughing sound escaped him. "Sherlock?" John questioned, a sense of relief flashing in his eyes as he realised that the man was looking back at him "Welcome back." John smiled softly. "Lestrade has called an ambulance," John informed him as he knelt in front of his friend, "it'll be here any minute. But before that, I need to ask you some questions. How many fingers am I holding up?" Sherlock answered the question, forcing himself not to role his eyes. "Perfect." A smile graced John's lips. "And what's the chemical symbol for iron?"
The doctor had pulled a torch from somewhere and was now shining it in his friends eyes. "Delayed contraction." John was mumbling, as the sound of sirens could be heard nearing the trio. "Concussion." He flicked the torch off and placed his hands on the side of Sherlock's head, looking into his eyes. "Do you remember what happened?"
"I hit my head." The consulting detective groaned, his voice sounding uncharacteristically slurred, a slight lisp presenting itself.
"Yes, Sherlock." John agreed, keeping his tone light. "Does anything hurt? Other than you head, of course. Do you feel like you need to be sick?" John questioned, taking in his friend's pallor complexion as he switched his weight from his knees, lifting one leg up slightly.
"No." Sherlock raised his hand up, rubbing at his eyes slightly, his left hand coming to rest in his curls. "And yes."
"Okay," John soothed, "lets get up sitting up so you don't choke, alright?" He waited for his friend's response before gesturing to the detective inspector behind him, "I'm going to lean you up against the wall. Lestrade, give me a hand." The pair lifting their friend up, leaning him against the wall; his vision was swimming due to the elevation and the action only served to upset Sherlock's stomach further and, as John had anticipated, the detective heaved. John carefully turned his friend's head, careful not to aggravate his injury, so that he didn't soil his clothes.
It wasn't long before the ambulance arrived and the detective was loaded into the back of it, John climbed in after him.
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