Molly called again...I stared at the phone in desperation. "Take the call." Greg said.
"I can't. What will I tell them?"
"Tell them the truth. Trust me, they'll understand."
"I can't do this on the phone. They're my best friends. I've been lying to them for six months...I can't just pick up a phone and tell them that."
He thought about it for a minute. "Maybe you're right...Call one of them, tell them you're fine and that you're going to be back at the dorm within the next hour."
"You're telling me to go."
"Just for a couple of hours. Look, this might not seem very important right now, but you don't know how long it will take for Sherlock to wake up and to recover. You'll need your friends to cover for you, mate and you can't expect them to do that if don't tell them the truth."
"I don't want to go."
"I understand, but it's only for a couple of hours. Go fix this and it'll be a load off your mind."
"I just don't want them to think of this as some tawdry little affair..."
"No one who hears you speak of Sherlock can think that. I hardly know you and I can see how much you love him. They're your friends...trust them."
"Okay." I said, having finally made up my mind. I stood up and kissed Sherlock gently on the forehead. "I love you." I whispered.
"Thanks Greg."
"No problem. Don't worry about him. I'm here, Mycroft is here...he'll be fine. And I don't just mean right now. He will be fine. He'll get well soon, trust me."
I nodded and left. I found the black car waiting outside for me. I was surprised. I hadn't said anything to Mycroft. He hadn't even been in the room when Greg and I were talking. Is this what Sherlock meant when he said that Mycroft knew everything?
I got into the car feeling grateful. I didn't think I could handle the tube just then. I called Molly. She sounded frantic. I told her that everything was fine and that I was coming back to the dorm.
...
I walked into my room and I saw all three of them waiting for me. Their questions burst forth immediately. I stood there not knowing what to say. The only thing I could feel was the cold dread that had taken over my heart that morning. It must have shown on my face.
My friends quietened down rather quickly and just looked at me. I sat down and tried to compose myself, but it was difficult and the tears that I had been fighting all day started to spill. Molly put her arms around me and held me while I cried.
Bill and Mike sat there looking worried and confused. I couldn't blame them. I had been fine until that morning...I calmed down and started to talk. I told them everything...they were stunned. Whatever they had expected, it certainly was not this.
Molly looked stricken. I had been most concerned about her reaction. "I'm sorry." I said. She shook her head and said, "Its okay. You have nothing to be sorry about. It was a silly crush. He always made it clear that he wasn't interested."
"If anything, I'm...upset with myself. It makes me cringe to think of the number of times I talked to you about him. I don't know how you sat there and listened, John. It would've made me crazy if I was in your place..."
"I'm sorry I lied to you guys."
"It's okay, mate. I might have done the same thing in your place." Mike said.
"So you don't...you're not..." I couldn't find the words.
"Did you honestly think that we would be angry with you?" Bill said.
"I've been lying to you for six months..."
"I wish you had trusted us...we might have been able to help you. But that's okay. That's all we want to do now, mate. We want to help in any way we can." Mike and Molly nodded in agreement.
"I can't imagine what you're going through right now." Molly said. "So stop worrying about us and our feelings. We're fine. Just tell us what we can do to help."
"You really understand?"
"What's not to understand? We didn't know you liked guys, we never imagined that you and Dr Holmes...Still can't imagine actually..." Bill said. "But it's obvious you love him so I don't see how it matters that he's our teacher. Now what do you need?"
"I need to get back to the hospital."
"I'll pack some of your clothes." Mike said.
"When was the last time you ate?" Molly said.
"I don't know."
"I'll get you something." She said and left.
"Should I tell Dr Stevens that you need a week off?" Bill said.
"Yeah...he'll want to know why."
"Does he know your dad is dead?"
"What uh...no, I think. Why?"
"Good. I'll tell him your dad had a stroke and that he's serious."
"What else? Anatomy project. It's due in two days. Have you finished it?" Bill said.
"Mostly...I still have to organise it and I haven't written the conclusion yet."
"Is it on your laptop?"
"Yes."
"Fine. I'll get it done and turn it in."
Molly came back with a sandwich and a cup of tea. "Eat." She said as she handed it to me.
"I can't."
"John, he's going to be fine. You have to believe that. Worrying yourself sick is not going to help him. You need to keep up your strength. Now eat."
She sat there watching me until I finished. Mike was done packing my things. I looked around at my friends and I found it hard to believe how easy they'd made it for me. Why had I worried about it so much?
"Guys, I...thanks."
"It's alright. Now go. Just keep in touch okay." Mike said.
"I will."
"And you'll let us know when..." Molly said.
"Yes...yes I will. Guys, thanks again."
"Not a big deal. I told you. Just take care of yourself. "
Molly pulled me into a hug. "He's going to be fine." She said.
I nodded and left. The black car was waiting for me. I got in and sat back feeling relieved. Greg had been right. It was a big load off my mind.
...
It was a couple of hours later. I was sitting by Sherlock's bed holding his hand. There had been no change at all. But now I felt lighter, more positive somehow. Sherlock was going to be alright. I can't tell you why I suddenly felt like that, but I did. I was sure that he would wake up soon.
Greg had gone home. Mycroft was around somewhere. It was past eleven and the hospital was very quiet and I found myself talking to Sherlock...something told me that he could hear everything I said.
"I told my friends about us. It was such a relief to finally tell the truth. I've hated having to hide our relationship...not just because I was lying and pretending all the time...I guess I just want to be able to show what I feel for you without worrying that someone might be watching..."
"Greg told me what happened. Why did you have to do such a damn fool thing anyway? He said you've always been reckless with your life. Almost like you didn't care what happened to you. Why Sherlock?"
"He's never thought of himself or his life as anything valuable." Mycroft said. He was standing at the door.
"Why?'
"Too intelligent, easily bored."
"So he risks his life so he won't be bored."
"You could say that. It's always a game with him...catching the killer. It is all that matters. Give him a case and he's happy...his mind is busy. But once he's solved it, he's bored."
Mycroft came and sat down next to me. "My brother has a bit of an addictive personality, John. First it was cigarettes, then it was drugs and now it is crime solving. Despite the fact that it is his latest addiction that has landed him in this position, I would say that it is less harmful than the other two."
"Is that why he doesn't eat or sleep properly?"
"Yes. In his own words, his mind is the only thing that matters. The rest is just transport."
"Is that why you watch over him? Because he doesn't take care of himself?"
"I try to make sure he doesn't do anything particularly foolish...like going back to the drugs. But for all that, I cannot make him take care of himself."
We sat in silence for a while. "I guess there is no point in telling you to go home and get some rest." Mycroft said.
"None."
"Well in that case, I'll see you in the morning." He said and left.
I watched him leave and I found myself thinking that maybe he wasn't so bad after all. I got up and turned down the lights. I took Sherlock's hand in mine and sat down again, looking at him, searching for some sign of consciousness.
Three days went by like that...waiting and watching. I had almost not left his side. Greg and Mycroft came and went. They would sit down to talk to me sometimes, but mostly I was left alone.
And then on the morning of the fourth day, I woke up to the sound of my name. Someone was calling me, trying to wake me up. It must be Greg, I thought and then I felt a tug on my arm. My eyes flew open and I saw Sherlock looking at me..."John." He said again, looking for all the world like he'd just woken up from a good night's sleep.