Authors note: Okay there are a few doctor who references in this chapter so yay!

Sherlock saw John's eyelids slowly begin to open. He was holding John's hand against his cheek.

John's eyes moved toward Sherlock whose face was wet and eyes were red. "Hi" he croaked. His throat was sore and felt raw. His body felt like it had been crushed. He was cold apart from the hand Sherlock was holding against his warm skin.

"I knew I shouldn't have let you go. I should have tried harder. I'm so sorry." he said feeling tears pooling in his eyes again. He was never this emotional. Not ever. But he was never in this situation. The situation of possibly losing the person he cared about most. The situation of this possibly being the last conversation they ever have and never being able to look into those amazing blue eyes again.

"No..it's not your...fault" he was using all the energy he had to talk.

"But it is." he paused. Tears now streaming down his face. "Ever since the fall I promised myself I wouldn't let you get hurt. I promised myself I wouldn't let you slip through my fingers. And I've failed you."

"Don't be like that. Sherlock...please. I wouldn't even be happy if you weren't in my life."

"Oh yes you would. If it weren't for me, you would probably be married by now. Perhaps with a child and a job and a nice house."

"Don't you realize I dont want any of that. The marriage and the perfect job and the perfect house. It all seems so...pedestrian."

"'It may be pedestrian but you'd be safe. You wouldn't have had to think me dead for three years and gone through the depression, you wouldn't have had to watch my jump from a roof, and you wouldn't be in this hospital bed right now. You'd be happy."

"If I didn't meet you i'd be dead. I was so close to killing myself after what happened in Afghanistan you have no idea. I missed the adrenaline, the excitement. And when I met you, I felt different." John was feeling drowsy all of the sudden. The drugs that were leaking into him were making him fall asleep. Sherlock gave John's hand another quick kiss and placed it back on the bed.

"Go to sleep John. I promise I'll be here when you wake up" John was already asleep

Sherlock did as he promised. He stayed in that hospital for as long as possible. He stayed every night until John was better. He had to fight with several nurses and other staff members to let him stay but eventually they grew tired of trying. Of course every morning Sherlock went back to the flat to take a shower, change his clothes, brush his teeth, and have as much tea as possible because he couldn't stomach the tea that was served at the hospital. He brought his laptop with him and worked on cases through email with Lestrade.

Days turned into weeks. Weeks eventually turned into two whole months before John was finally sent home.

The scratches and cuts were healed, the gash on his forehead left a small pink mark, the large cut from his chin to his collarbone turned into a faint scar, and the large cut on his side was now a large scar. He felt better though.

The flat was cold. It had gone practically untouched while the men were gone. When Mrs. Hudson came back from Sussex she didn't bother going into the flat when they weren't there. She thought it was "An invasion of privacy." The windows are frosted over with snow that had fallen the day before. It was the twenty-second of December. Christmas was coming faster than either man could believe. Neither of them worried about presents though. Each made sure Mrs. Hudson went out and got the gifts they wanted to give each other. Sherlock didn't normally give gifts on Christmas but he felt on the occasion that John was finally home, it was necessary.

As the next few days past the men seemed to have gotten...rather close. They were attached at the hip, occasionally one of them wrapped their arm around the others waist or shoulders, they joked around a bit more, and they huddled on the couch when it was cold. People began to talk. People do little else. Though Mrs. Hudson seemed rather happy.

When Christmas arrived they had the traditional party at 221B. Sherlock played the violin, Molly showed up late, and of course Greg wouldn't stop flirting with her. Not that anyone could blame him. He had been divorced from his wife for about a year now and he hadn't had a girlfriend since. John had been pushing him to ask Molly out for some time. But of course Greg was too "scared of the commitment."

Later that night everyone exchanged gifts. That only lasted a few minutes before Greg got a phone call.

"Sherlock, John we have to go now. Moran is in custody." Greg bolted out the door. The two men glanced at each other and grabbed their coats while running out the door.

They followed Greg to the crime scene. There had been shots fired but no sign of a body or bullet wounds on Moran.

Sherlock walked straight up to Moran who was being held by some police officers. "Ah. Mr. Holmes. We finally meet." He had a thick Scottish accent, Blonde hair, a scar above his upper lip, and he was rather muscular. He looked at John like he was something he wanted to devour. Sherlock grabbed his neck.

"Oh. Rather protective of our pet aren't we?" he laughed

"who are you working for?" Sherlock's voice had become full of hate.

"Tell me, Sherlock. What would you do if I got out of your's and the police's grip and went over and strangled Johnny boy to death?"

Sherlock squeezed harder. "Answer me!" he said

"No. You answer me before I do get out of your grips and kill him."

"I'd shoot you without hesitating."

"Oh so you are protective of your pets?"

"Who are you working for!?" He yelled and squeezed even harder.

He stopped when he heard Sally yelling for them. She had found someone.

"I'll deal with you later" he said backing away

He ran to where sally was and found a woman. She was the one who had been shot. Her wound was below her breast and she was loosing a lot of blood, fast.

"Sally go tell Greg to call an ambulance we'll handle this" John said not looking at her. She got up and left. Sherlock removed his scarf and put pressure on the wound.

"What's your name?" he asked

"J...Jennifer"

She was young. Early twenties. College student. She was dying. John only had one idea to keep her conscious.

"Hey Jennifer. You ever fancy someone you know you shouldn't?"

She looked at him blankly. "W..what?"

"It hurts." He glanced at Sherlock who was staring at him. "But a kind of good hurt."

She smiled. "I really shouldn't talk about him."

"Oh! There's a him?" Another glance a Sherlock "Tell me about him Jennifer."

She turned her head to look up at the stars and smiled again. "He has beautiful eyes and a wonderful smile. He's American. He has the warmest skin i've ever felt."

"Do you love him?"

"yes."

"Have you told him?"

"No."

"Well then. You need to fight through this so you can tell him. You have to tell him before it's too late."

"Okay." She said still smiling "What about you? Do you love someone?"

"Yes."

Sherlock looks at him with curious eyes.

"Have you told them yet?"

"No. I'm afraid that they might not feel the same way."

He looked up at Sherlock who was staring back.

"Well John" he began "I'm sure that this person has the exact same feelings for you." John smiled at this.

"Are you positive?"

Sherlock returned the smile.

"absolutely."

They heard the sound sirens fill the silent night.

Before they knew it an emergency team was putting Jennifer on a stretcher and hauling her into the back of the ambulance.

John turned to face Sherlock who was looking at him, trying to deduce something apparently.

"So. You think the person has feelings for me too?" John said looking up at him.

"Oh I know they do." He said stepping closer. Neither of them realizing Lestrade wasn't too far away, watching them. "Penny in the air." he whispered to himself.

"Prove it." John replied

Sherlock grabbed the back of the army doctor's neck and leaned in and pressed his lips against his. Sherlock's lips were soft and warm. The feeling of them in contact with John's made John's pulse increase.

"And the penny drops" Lestrade said out loud laughing.

When they pulled apart they smiled at each other. "Home?" Sherlock asked

"Yes. I'm freezing."

They walked home. Hand in hand.

When they walked in everyone was gone. The flat was quiet and warm from the heat of the fire-place. "Oh I almost forgot about the present." he dug under the couch cushions and pulled out a small box.

Neatly wrapped. White colored wrapping paper. Blue bow on top. It was a thin rectangular box. He handed it to Sherlock who unwrapped it and opened it quickly.

"A phone?"

"You said you didn't like the Iphone. So I got you a Blackberry smart phone."

Sherlock smiled. He did prefer the blackberry over the Iphone. He didn't do well with touch screens. "Thank you." he said "I'm afraid mine is a bit...different."

John smiled. Sherlock turned and took out John's handgun and gave it to him. "My gun?"

Sherlock smiled "Look at the side." When John turned it to it's side he say the letters J.W. engraved on it. "My initials?"

"I had it done while you were in the hospital. Thought it would be useful at some point."

"Thank you." John walked over and kissed Sherlock's cheek. "merry christmas."