The florescent light flashed in and out of John's vision, the fire still coursing through his veins. All the muscles in his body were making sharp spasms. His lungs were constricting, making him gasp for air.
The doctors rushed John's uncontrollably shaking body into the emergency room. Nurses and doctors surrounded him.
They checked John's blood. "It's strychnine poison. Someone grab the charcoal solution!" A doctor yelled out. "Stay with us John!"
Out in the waiting room, Sherlock and Jane waited. The doctors tried to get Jane to go back to her room but she refused. They finally gave up on trying to convince her. A nurse bandaged up Jane's bleeding hand from where she ripped out the IV and left her there to wait.
Jane sat on a chair, her knees pulled tightly to her chest, and cried silently while Sherlock was pacing the floor, texting vigorously, trying to contact Lestrade.
Sherlock was really affected by what happened to John. He actually felt pain and sadness, which is something new for Sherlock. His only friend could be dying or could even be dead at this very moment and he wasn't there to help him.
Lestrade still didn't answer any of his texts. Sherlock felt like swearing and throwing his mobile at the wall but restrained himself. His shoved it in his pocket and slumped down in one of the chairs.
There was a very long moment of silence. No one had the will to say or do anything, they just waited.
The silence was broken by a small, quiet voice. "This is all my fault." Sherlock looked over at Jane, whose tear covered face was now looking at a blank, white wall. "If John had never saved me from killing myself, he would not be dying in this God forsaken hospital. It's all my fault! I wish I was never brought into this life!" Jane was now sobbing.
Sherlock felt awkward watching the young woman cry, not knowing what to do. He wants to help but whenever he sees Jane's face, he gets a flashback from the time Jane looked at him with fearful eyes, watching him walk towards her with a syringe needle in his hand. He never truly understood emotions, especially when it came to women.
Yet, he felt that he should do something, other than sit there and stare at her, hoping she will stop crying. He knew that would never happen. Sherlock got up and walked to a chair right next to Jane's. He sat down and contemplated on how to comfort a crying young woman. He lifted his right arm and placed it around Jane's shoulders, like he has seen John do many times.
As soon a Jane felt the arm around her, she hesitated but eventually leaned into Sherlock, still crying. Sherlock tried to ignore the wet tears dripping on his shirt; he was never really one to comfort people.
A half an hour had passed and there was still no news from any doctor. Jane and Sherlock were still in the same position. Jane stopped crying, which made Sherlock relieved especially because part of his shirt was soaked from her deep sobs. He was finally able to ignore the awkwardness of holding Jane.
About a minute later, a doctor came through the door. Sherlock and Jane both jumped up at the same time, rushing over to the doctor.
"Is he okay? Please tell me that John is okay!" Jane blurted out. She looked like she was going to burst into tears again.
"He is unconscious, but he is stable now. We found Strychnine poison in his bloodstream. It's a good thing we caught him when we did, he could have died if it was any later," The doctor said sternly. He opened his folder and grabbed a pen out of his pocket. "Will it be okay if I ask you some questions about John?" The doctor looked at Sherlock.
"It depends on what the questions are," Sherlock said, sounding like his normal, arrogant self again.
The doctor ignored that remark and asked, "Has John ever shown any warning signs of committing suicide?"
"Stupid question. Next."
"But sir this is very important. We think that John might have attempted to take his life."
"John would never do anything like that. Now, if you are done asking me questions, Jane and I would like to see him." Sherlock walked around the doctor. He asked a nurse where John was and walked straight to the private room, Jane following right behind.
They walked into the room and closed the door. John was lying on the bed peacefully. He was hooked up to a water drip and a heart monitor.
Jane walked up to the side of John's bed and sat down in the chair that was placed next to him. She silently looked down at John.
Sherlock could see the hurt in Jane's eyes. He silently spoke, saying, "I will leave you two alone for a while." Sherlock opened and walked out the door, closing it silently behind him.
As soon as Sherlock left the room, Jane began crying to herself. This is my entire fault. John wouldn't be here if I was dead. Jane thought. She grabbed John's hand and held it softly. She laid her head in her other arm on the bed. The tears were coming quicker now.
There was a sudden, small sound of movement. John's fingers curled around Jane's hand. Jane quickly looked up with tear filled eyes to see that John was awake.
John opened his drowsy eyes to see Jane looking at him. He smiled slightly, mumbling to himself, "I must be dead to wake up to an angel."
Jane couldn't help herself. She started crying harder. "I am so, so sorry," Jane said to John, in between sobs. "It is all my fault that you got hurt. I should be the one who was poisoned."
John took all his will power to speak. "Please don't even say that. I would take on poison any day if it was to save you the pain." John was telling the truth. He didn't know why, but he felt a deep connection between him and Jane. He felt something that he hadn't felt in a long time. True love.
Jane still held John's weak hand. There was complete silence between them besides for Jane's whimpers.
John wanted to say something that he has been meaning to tell Jane. This may not be the perfect moment, but he didn't care. "I-I love you, Jane."
Jane looked into John's soft, blue eyes. She hasn't heard anyone say that to her since her mother died. Jane has never known what love truly felt like. But somehow, she knew that she loved John. "I love you, too."
Unconsciously, Jane leaned in toward John and softly kissed John's smooth lips, like she used to see her mother do to her father. John kissed her back.
After a while, they pulled apart, smiling. Jane's hand started to slip out of John's, but John quickly grabbed it, looking a little concerned.
"Don't worry. I will never leave you," Jane told John, regaining her grip on John's hand.
Out in the hallway Sherlock paced the floor, his mobile in his hand. It suddenly started to ring. He quickly answered it. "Lestrade, where are you?"
"I am at a crime scene, Sherlock," Lestrade said.
"What is so important that you had to leave?"
"Sherlock... I am at an abandoned building. We just found a body and were able to identify it."
"Yeah and who is it?" Sherlock spoke into the phone, sounding really annoyed.
Sherlock heard a sigh through the phone. "You're not going to believe this. It's the body of James Moriarty."
