"I can't." Sherlock's voice was no more than a whisper.

John stared straight ahead at the spot where the birds had been. "Well that's good isn't it?"

"No John. It's not good, it's selfish."

"And that's different than normal?" John's eyebrows raised as he turned to Sherlock for an explanation.

"I'm the reason she got hurt, and I can't leave because I…" His voice cracked and he stopped talking.

John's chest tightened for his friend, but he rolled his eyes and said casually, "But you can't live without her, blah blah, I know, go on."

"So I'd rather she live in danger with me, than live without her where she'd be safe? What does that say about me?"

"It says a lot actually." John nodded. "You love her and today wasn't enough to tear you apart. Instead it's made you stronger. Now you know you don't want to leave, even though it could make it dangerous in the future."

"That's the definition of selfish John."

"Besides she wouldn't be any better off without you; she'd be homeless, lonely, bored and instead of having a partner to share her pain, she'd be all by herself to suffer her disease." John added.

Sherlock didn't respond so John continued more seriously. "She asked for you."

"Asked? Past tense?"

"You weren't there when she woke up and she said she heard everything that was said in the library. So she put the pieces together. She's quite clever, your wife."

"What did she ask about?"

"She wanted to know what it was like after you fell."

"What did you tell her?"

"The truth." Said John.

At those words Sherlock forced himself up to the roof top door and down the stairs into the hospital. As usual John hoped up after him and followed closely behind his friend. "Where are we going?"

"To show my wife that your truth and her truth are not the same thing." Sherlock barked as he descended the stairs. John contained a smug smile and followed closely behind.