Hello again peeps! Sorry about the gap, life, don't talk to me about life. :-D

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Chapter 9

Shit, shit, shit, Sherlock wake up. Please! Don't make me beg Sherlock, don't make me pray. Not again.

I'm thrown out of my musings by the arrival of Mycroft.

"Any change?"

"Not much, there was an up turn in his brainwaves earlier but it lead to no physical change."

"Well, at least he's breathing on his own again, that's positive."

Shit, Mycroft's being supportive. Well, attempting to be. I want to say that that happened five whole days ago and there's been no further improvements since then which is bloody well not positive at all. But I don't. I'm not that far gone. Yet.

"Yeah, I suppose so."

"Well, if there's been no change then I'm afraid I'll have to be going. I'm sorry John, I'll take over watch next time I come by." He smiles grimly. Surprisingly it's genuine, though Sherlock is his little brother. And he's in a coma. Shit.

"No, no, don't worry, you've a whole governmental system to uphold." I smile back. Mine is not genuine.

"Several actually, John." Another smile and he's gone. More hours of waiting, of hoping, desperately hoping.

Wait, Sherlock's hand just moved, I swear. "Sherlock, Sherlock can you hear me?" I squeeze his hand back, both his hands. I search his ashen face for any signs of movement, of life that has to be going on beneath the surface. It has to be. Or to put it another way, it can't not be. For my sanity, it can't not be.

It moved again, his hand, it moved again! Definite movement this time, not a muscular spasm. "Sherlock? Sherlock!" I hear the tears in my voice before I register them dripping off by cheeks. His head, it moved!

"John?" The sound I had been convinced I'd never hear again. He's alive! ALIVE! Alive. The feeling I never thought I'd have to experience again.

"Oh Sherlock." I barely manage to hold back the sobs.

"John, where am I? No, why are you crying?"

"Sherlock, you've been out for two whole weeks! For most of that time, you weren't even breathing on your own! Oh Sherlock." I hugged him. Just hugged him. Unashamedly and for an enormous amount of time. He hugged me back and let me end it. I love this man so much.

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Two weeks! So I was in a coma, but why? Ok, I was in a weakened state from my latest lapse but I was recovering. I'd need a big shock to force me into that. Why can't I remember?!

"John, where was I when you found me? And why did you just laugh?"

"Sorry Sherlock, *hiccup*I'm sorry it's just, you're back! You're really back! Three seconds back from the dead and you're already deducing! It's just," More laughing, what is wrong with him? Oh yeah, me dying-ish. Again. "I love you so much." Wow, I wasn't expecting that as the final bit. More crying. Emotions.

"I love you too, John, of course you know that."

"Yes Sherlock." I smirk as he answers even though he knows it wasn't a question. He's smiling again. Good.

"Now where was I when you found me? What happened?"

"Well, I came home from the surgery to find one of Mycroft's men telling me to follow him. Next thing I know we're at the hospital and Mycroft graces me with his presence personally to tell me what had happened." He goes on quickly before I can interrupt. "That you'd collapsed in Baker Street. That you'd been breathing but unconscious when they found you. That, under his personal orders, they'd given you something to wake you up but you'd reacted badly to it and stopped breathing and were in a full-blown coma." I tell from his thunderous expression that he was not pleased to have been informed so late. I shall have to check my Brother's face for sign of bruising next time. "You regained breathing abilities five days ago but until today had shown no sign of awakening. Until now." He smiles. I finally kiss him. Long, sensuous, but mostly desperate, all-consuming need. I let John take control, a thing I very rarely do. He deserves it. Hell, he deserves a lot more than this. Than me.

"Sherlock." His voice is slightly husky from the crying.

"John." My John.

"What were we talking about?"

"What happened when I first collapsed." Don't start crying again John. He didn't. Thank goodness.

"Oh yeah." He pulls back but remains sitting on the side of the bed, hands clutching mine. "Talking of that, we need to inform Mycroft of your miraculous recovery. And Mrs Hudson, she's been worried sick." Mycroft walks through the door. "Speak of the devil..." John trails off.

"Ah, Brother dear," He says. "I see you're fit and well again" No bruising but ahh, found it!

"And I see you are, apart from your freshly broken nose, Brother dear." I smirk my reply.

"And fully recovered obviously. You can thank John for that." John blushes. "I won't be keeping him out of the loop again any time soon." He smiles at John who blushes further.

"Oh, I will, don't you worry about that." I direct this at John with such a smirk that he blushes so much I'm surprised he hasn't fainted. He does smirk back though.

"Moving on, Sherlock." Mycroft again. Boring. "John, sorry to ask when he is so soon returned to us but may I have a few moments alone with my Brother?" John's face is red but he's not blushing this time. "I'm sorry John, please?" Manipulative bastard, that's Mycroft all over. Wait, was that genuine?

"Certainly Mycroft." Well, John believed it at least. I watch him go.

"Well Mycroft, what do you want?" I let my annoyance come through in my voice.

He comes and takes a seat on the edge of the bed. "First of all, Brother dear," There is no warmth in his voice now. "don't ever do that to John again. He has had you die twice now, I don't think his mind would survive a third attempt." Wait, what? Why is he protecting John? What does he want? He chuckles. "Don't fear, Sherlock, I have no interest in John. Perish the very thought. No, I am no threat on that front. It is you I am worried for; without John you are dead. Everyone knows that much." How does he know this for sure? It's true, of course it's true, he's John for fucks' sake! But how does Mycroft know? Another chuckle, so full of warmth this time. What is he up to? "Oh Loki, You merely need to see the looks you give him, and that he gives you, to see that! It's barely a deduction, no need to be so suspicious!" More chuckling. I smile in response. A genuine smile, the first I have given Mycroft in a very long time. Almost as long as since the last time he called me Loki.

"You haven't called me Loki since childhood, Mycroft." I say it with warmth though, it is merely a statement, not an accusation.

"And I don't plan to again any time soon." He says with a slight mock grimace and a lightness in his eyes. "Right, down to business. Sherlock, do you remember anything before your collapse?"

"You might want to phone Lestrade, I figured out the notes. They're a code, I'll explain the details to Lestrade. Could you get me the notes from Baker Street? As I expect you won't let me out of this place any time soon." I smirk. "Where am I any way? And don't say 'a hospital', you'll just be belittling yourself.

He smirks. "I wouldn't dream of it, Sherlock. I'll inform Lestrade as soon as possible, he'll be relieved to know you're well. You are at St Bart's, Sherlock, Molly insisted, in case, you know..."

"I died? Unlike you to be so squeamish Mycroft." I smirk again.

"Yes. You don't remember anything else? Anything at all?" He is suddenly serious.

"No, why, should I?"

"Not necessarily. It's just there is a gap in the surveillance footage of your home. Roughly ten minutes before your collapse. Do you remember anything of that time?" He stares right at me. He is clearly concerned. Very. This is deeply troubling but nothing is coming to my mind. This is even more troubling.

"No, nothing at all. I trust they have already been changed and my surveillance status upgraded?"

"Yes, do not worry Sherlock, John is completely safe." He smirks but it is only momentary. "It is not as if he has left the hospital at any point any way." Oh John. "Also, I had tests done and verified several times, your coma was not drug induced in any way. If someone was there in that missing ten minutes, they did not harm you. At least physically." He looks away. Is that emotion troubling my brother? Tsk, tsk, tsk, it seems he too has learnt to care. "Well Sherlock, I must be going now, people to see, countries to run." He smirks. I smirk in return.

"No need to show off to me brother, save it for John." We share a smirk at the thought. "Goodbye Mycroft, till the next time." Another smirk and he's gone.

Thank god, John's back.

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Sherlock's back, he's actually back! And I'm not with him. And they're going to wheel him off for a myriad of tests soon. What the hell is taking Mycroft so bloody long?!

"John." Thank fuck for that, he's finally finished!

"Mycroft. I assume you're all finished now?"

"Yes John, with you're barely concealed anger I wouldn't dream of keeping you further." He smirks. Smarmy bastard. And he's off without waiting for an answer. Arrogant smarmy bastard. I head inside.

"Sherlock." I'm back at his bedside, his hands clasped in mine. "What was that all about?"

"Nothing of great importance, John, don't worry. How long am I going to have to stay in this godforsaken place?" Yep, he's definitely back. "Why are you chuckling?"

"No reason, Sherlock," I say still chuckling, "you wouldn't get it if I told you." He's puzzled now, oh god if he keeps this up I'm going to suffocate! I manage to control myself. "At least two more days Sherlock, they need to do tests and check you don't go again. Don't groan like that, it's not that bad. And before you ask, not even Mycroft will be able to get you out sooner." I smile, he doesn't. Oh I'm off again! Poor, poor, grumpy Sherlock...

"John if you could stop guffawing like some kind of de-evolved gorilla and tell me if there has been any advancements in the case, it would be most helpful." Uh oh, he's being icily polite, I must have really annoyed him. Good.

"Alright, alright, I'm sorry." I clear my throat. "There haven't been any more suicides lately, or anything really. No advancements at all, the Yard is just as desperate for leads as they were before, unless you've come up with anything?" Unfortunately before he can answer a young doctor bustles in with a clipboard.

"Mr Sherlock Holmes?"

"Yes. What do you want?" Sherlock answers with his customary politeness.

The doctor smiles. "Glad to see you back with us sir." He checks the clipboard again. "Just some routine tests, you'll have to come with me sir." Sherlock stirs and starts to get up. "No, no, don't get up. I don't think you're quite ready for that yet. I'll just call the porters" Another smile. Uh oh, this doctor obviously hasn't been given the 'how to deal with Sherlock Holmes' course. I give Sherlock a warning look. I don't think it's worked. He stirs again.

"It may amaze you doctors, but I am not actually disabled and can physically control my muscles so they act in accordance to the process of walking as most people learn from the age of 12 months up!" Wow, the venom in those words could take down an elephant. It certainly seems to have stunned the doctor.

"Sherlock." I put my arm out to stop him. He looks at me. "You have been in a coma for two whole weeks. From your previous weakened state, think of the muscle wastage."

"All the more reason I should start walking as quickly as possible!" But I can see he's given in.

"Can you please just do as the doctors say this once? It's for the best." He grumbles and will know sulk for the rest of his time here. Oh great. I turn and smile at the young doctor which unfreezes him and he hurriedly calls the porters who start to unbrake Sherlock's bed.

The doctor turns to me as I start to follow Sherlock's bed out. "I'm sorry sir, I'm going to have to ask you to stay here." He smiles. "Thank you for all your help earlier."

I smile back. "How long are the tests expected to take?"

"Oh, a couple of hours or so. I can't give an exact time." Jesus, that's long!

"Are absolutely you sure?" Surprise in every atom of my face and voice.

"Could be longer, could be shorter. Sorry sir, it's hard to tell at the moment." He may not have got the 'how to deal with Sherlock Holmes' course but he has definitely been given the 'how to deal with patient's annoying relatives' course. That's obviously the best I'm going to get out of him.

"Alright. Goodbye for now Sherlock." I hug him goodbye and the doctor nods to the porters and they're off. I watch them till they're out of sight.


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