"The person you are phoning can't take your call. Please try again later."
"Come on Sherlock, pick up!" That was the fifteenth call so far. 'Ok, ok, think. I need to see him, can't contact him, who would know?'
John scrolled through his contacts and hit Greg and Call.
{oOo}
Greg was asleep, a very good dream, a very very very good – ACDC interrupted his dream.
"No... I am not 'Back in Black'." He groaned reaching for his phone.
"Hello?"
"Greg? It's John, listen do you know where Sherlock lives?" Weird question Greg thought, especially for... 11pm.
"What? Uh yea, two doors down from me, why?"
"Greg I need you to go to his house and check on him! RIGHT NOW! I'll be there soon."
"Why?"
"He's taken something. Just hurry!"The familiar click told him John hung up.
Greg shot up out of bed, he pulled on his sweats and a hoodie. He tried to be quiet as he tiptoed past his sister and brothers room. Once he was clear he ran to the door and pulled on his trainers he grabbed his keys and went out the door.
The cold air hit him like knives and he could see his breath come out in little puffs, 'OK, get to Sherlock.' He jogged down the path and walked up to the door and knocked.
The door swung open to reveal a tall, ginger haired, man. Greg met him a few times in the street. "Gregory? What can I do for you?" "Mycroft, I need to see Sherlock. Right now. It's important." Mycroft's expression never changed, "He's asleep right now." "John's worried he's taken something! I need to see him now!" he almost shouted at the older man.
Mycroft took off before Greg could say anything else, he followed Mycroft around the staircase, down the hall
"SHERLOCK" Mycroft's voice shook Greg to the core. Looking in the doorway he saw Sherlock crumpled on the ground, Mycroft knelt beside him and shook his shoulders. "Sherlock? Sherlock, wake up!"
Greg was stunned, he didn't know what to do. Mycroft was beginning to panic, that snapped him out of his trance and he rushed forward.
"Move back." Mycroft didn't budge all his focus on his brother, "Mycroft move back." He tried to gently push Mycroft out of his way, the older man was freaking out. "Mycroft, I need you out of my way!" Mycroft moved with him this time, Greg turned back to Sherlock, tipping his head back, checking breathing. Nothing...
"Shit! Call an ambulance. Tell them he's not breathing and CPR is being administrated, do it now!" He straightened Sherlock as best he could, placing the heel of his right hand to the centre of his breastbone and interlocked his fingers. 'OK Greg remember your training.'
"1, 2, 3, 4, 5...30." Taking a deep breath and pinching Sherlock's nose he breathed into Sherlock's mouth twice and then continued on.
"BREATHE DAMN IT!" He shouted at the lifeless body below him. After what felt like forever Greg could hear the sirens of the ambulance. Oh thank God! Mycroft left the room to get the paramedics, Greg continued to do chest compressions, his arms were beginning to ache and the sweat was dripping from his forehead. He was nearly at his limit but pushed himself to go a bit further. "Come on, come on! Almost there, Greg. Do it for Sherlock."
He heard multiple foot steps coming up the stairs, Mycroft rushed back into the room with the paramedics at his heels. "He's not breathing-" Greg shouted to them, "-Chest compressions for about 10 minutes." "We need you to step back sir." They said to Greg, and the teen dragged himself away from Sherlock's body. The man and woman kneeled on the ground either side of Sherlock, "Get me the defib." The woman said and began to start chest compressions as the man unzipped the bag and lifted it out, placing the pads on Sherlock's bare chest.
Scanning
Scanning
Do not touch casualty
Scanning
Shock needed
Move away from casualty.
The man hit the shock button and Sherlock's chest rose off the ground.
"Still nothing, again!" The woman shouted.
Greg didn't know what to do, he was frozen where he was seated on the floor. His eyes glued to Sherlock's chest which was repeatedly rising off the ground as the shocks ran to his heart. Come on Sherlock! He tore his eyes away from Sherlock and looked to Mycroft. His eyes were red and puffy, tears littered his cheeks and his hand was over his mouth, he was leaning against the wall for support, knees shaking.
"We have a pulse! Let's get him moved." Greg's head whipped around so quick he thought he'd have whiplash. They were placing Sherlock onto the board and were beginning to move him out of the room at top speed.
It took all of Greg's strength to pull himself off of the ground and over to Mycroft who hadn't moved, his eyes were glued to the spot where Sherlock was lying seconds ago. "Come on, Mycroft we need to go to the hospital." Mycroft nodded and started jogging out behind the paramedics who were now placing Sherlock in the back of the ambulance. "Wait!" He shouted at the man about to close the door, he turned to Greg, "I'll see you at the hospital?" Greg nodded and Mycroft ran over to the doors and said to the man he was coming with him.
Greg was looking around and saw that there were now quite a few spectators, including his worried parents. He began walking over to them when someone shouted his name, he turned and saw John running towards him, he caught up to him panting. "What's happened?!" Greg couldn't think, too many images were running through his head, everything was coming to the surface, Sherlock lying there, pumping his heart, the shocks. He felt himself falling. Hands reached out to grab him and lowered him gently to the ground. Greg's eyes were unfocused, the blurry outline of John and his parents are coming into his view but he just cannot focus on them. His heart is pounding in his ears, I can't breathe! His breaths starts coming out short and quick, he feels hands on his neck and a distant sound of someone saying his name.
"Greg? Greg, look at me." Greg moved his eyes to the sound seeking the one who said it. He came face to face with John, "Greg, copy my breaths OK?" He started to copy John's slow breaths and could feel his heart start to slow down and his vision coming back. "Sorry, I don't know what happened." he whispered to his dad.
His dad put his hand on Greg's shoulder, "Greg, you should go back to bed." "No, absolutely not! I need to see Sherlock."
After seeing his mum off Greg, John and Greg's dad piled into their car and drove off towards the hospital. John turned to Greg who was staring out at the dark sky, "So...what happened?"
"Um... well after you called I went straight over to his house. H-he was in his room, he wasn't breathing. I had to do CPR on him until the ambulance came, I tried but... I couldn't get him to come around."
The rest of the journey was left in an uncomfortable silence. They pulled up outside of the hospital and John and Greg got out, "I'll text you when we need you." Greg said to his dad before slamming the door and walking towards the doors. John was already talking to the nurse behind the desk and was then off again with Greg following silently behind. Around one of the corners sat a shaken Mycroft, hands in his ginger hair, head down.
The two boys slowly walked over to him, they didn't want to startle him. "Mycroft..." Greg spoke first as he knew John hadn't been introduced to him yet. Greg placed his hand on Mycroft's shoulder, Mycroft looked up, hands coming to rest on his knees, his back trying to keep good posture considering his height.
"They've uh, taken him in to pump his stomach. They went in about 20 minutes ago." His eyes were red and puffy and tear streaks painted his face, "I-"
"Mr Holmes?" Mycroft shot to his feet to the doctor that called him, "Yes, yes that's me. How's Sherlock?" Greg and John were standing behind Mycroft, "Do you want to go somewhere private, Mr Holmes?" The Doctor glanced over to the two younger boys, and Mycroft's posture clearly fell, "No, I want them here...Why... is something wrong?" The doctor sighed, "We've sedated Sherlock so that the drugs would flush out of his system and his body can repair the damage but my main concern is with his mental health, there were self-inflicted cuts all over his arms and thighs. Do you know anything about that?" His voice was soft and patient as he waited for Mycroft's reply, "No.. I didn't know." Pause "Can I see him now?"
"Of course, this way. Room 221."
Mycroft followed the doctor out of the waiting room as John and Greg took their seats, both reaching for their phones to text their families to tell them what was going on. Greg sent a quick text to his dad and placed his phone on the chair beside him. The waiting room was totally empty except for the two teenagers which Greg found a little odd. Every so often he would see a bed roll past the window with doctors and nurses giving out orders.
{oOo}
Greg was slumped in his seat, eyes drooping and his head lolling to the side every few seconds. He instantly sat up when a certain ginger haired person walked back into the waiting room.
"Hey, they said he'd be asleep for another while and I was wandering if you guys wanted to go in and see him?"
Greg looked at John who looked like he would probably kill Greg if he went in first, so Greg leaned back in his chair again and John said a quick thank you to Mycroft before practically running out of the room.
He was about to fall asleep again when Mycroft spoke from his spot now by the window.
"What's with this guy and my brother?" he asked not turning around.
Greg's groggy brain had to take a second to make sense of what was said, "Um, I don't know really, they only met yesterday. John was the one who called me to go see Sherlock tonight."
"I suppose I should thank him properly then." Mycroft said, not really expecting an answer so Greg didn't give one.
"I should also thank you too, Gregory." Again with the Gregory- wait what?
Greg shot up straight, "Why..?" Mycroft still had his back to Greg. "Because, Sherlock could have – could have... died, if it wasn't for you-" Mycroft turns to Greg and he can see the bloodshot eyes and the tear streaks down his cheeks "and I am so grateful for what you did."
Greg got up and slowly approached Mycroft, when standing in front of him he spoke, "Mycroft, anyone would do what I did in that situation." He didn't want Mycroft to think he was some hero. "No, you went way above the call of duty of everyone. Even... even I couldn't have did that and you need to know how thankful I am for that... if you weren't there, I never would have known. Sherlock would have-" Greg shushed him with a finger to his, surprisingly soft, lips. "Mycroft, you can't start thinking like that, it's one slippery slope you can't come back from. Sherlock is fine, we saved him." He slipped his finger away and moved to caress his cheek.
"You saved him." Greg has only realised that Mycroft's hand is on the side of his neck and his own hand was in a very affectionate place. Oh God. Mycroft leaned into Greg slightly so they were sharing the same air, "I don't know what I would have done without you." Then Mycroft closed the gap and his lips were on Greg's. Oh holy wow. Greg's mind was exploding, he knew it wasn't right, Mycroft was not in the right state of mind, Greg should pull away... but he just can't.
It feels so right.
Too soon Mycroft's lips were ripped from his at the sound of quick footsteps and someone shouting for the older Holmes. They quickly stepped away from each other when John jogged into the room.
"Sherlock's awake!"