I woke up with the smell of sanitation and the numbness of Novocain. I sat up, feeling the bandage around my thigh shift as I did. My eyes were blurry, but I could still see the clean room with its chairs, an I.V drip next to my bed. I pressed the call button, alerting nurses that I was awake. Two people, one a man and one a woman, both wearing dark green scrubs, stethoscopes hanging around their necks. "Good morning, Mr. Holmes!" the man exclaimed, coming over to the bed," There was a man that came here with me. His name is Sherlock Holmes. What do you know about his condition?" I asked, my hands gripping the thin sheets. "Sherlock is resting, and in a fragile condition," the female nurse said, stepping forward," He has been responding well, though. His vitals are doing well for his condition, but his eyes have not yet opened." "Coma?" I asked, my fear for his safety almost unbearable.

"No, he isn't in a coma," she said, and I laid back, sighing with relief," His body is just resting. With his head injury and exhausted state, it may be a day or two before he does." she said, coming over and fiddling with the machine tracking my heart rate and other vital organs. They left soon after that, leaving me to my thoughts.

One Day Later

I was sitting in my bed, reading one of my old blog posts on the laptop that Harry had brought in earlier that day, when I heard the door open. "John Holmes!" Ben exclaimed," Back so soon?" he teased, setting his bag down on a couch and bringing a seat up next to my chair, his notepad in hand. I tensed, knowing what was coming," Im not going to be asking you any questions today, John." Ben said, reaching for the television remote. He switched it on, and the Sky network was playing House, and he switched it to the news channel, revealing a reporter, and to his right, a picture of none other that Jim Moriarty.
Ben turned the volume up and set down the remote, putting his pen to paper and recording my reactions. But I remained blank. I simply listened as the reporter told the story of how he was going to prison for 2 life sentences. Rape and murder. I cringed as the reporter told the viewing audience about me ('The victim was a man who chooses to remain anonymous, but has suffered greatly from this horrific act') but still refused to break down.

After the report, Ben turned off Telly and turned to me," What changed?" he asked, his blue ink pen ready in his right hand," I have faced him, and I fought him. I'm still terrified of what he did, and what he can still do, but now I know that I can face him. He is clever, but I served 3 years in Afghanistan. I know how to fight." Ben nodded, seemingly impressed. "You've passed the test, John. Congratulations." he said, packing up his things. "Wait," I said," That's all?" I asked, a little shocked," Yeah." he replied," Do you want more questions?" he asked," No!" I exclaimed," I'm just... relieved, is all." I said, leaning back in the hospital bed.
"Well, it seems I won't bee seeing you any time soon," he said," Well, unless you and Sherlock decide to have a little one, then you will see me again." I gulped, slightly embarrassed, but that thought hadn't come to me before. Sherlock and I could have a baby. It was all possible. But still... it way too soon to be thinking this. Ben came over and shook my hand," Until next time, Mr. Holmes." he said, firmly shaking my hand," Until next time, Doctor." I said, shaking his hand back.

When he opened the door, Harry was standing in the hall, her hand curled into a fist and raised in the air, like she was about to knock on the door, William wrapped tightly in her arms. Ben smiled at her and exited the room, giving me one last smile. Harry exited, an embarrassed look on her face. She sat down in the chair next to me, a warm smile on her thin face. She held William out to me and I took him urgently, finally having the energy to hold him in my arms. "Hey." she said softly, her eyes meeting mine. I could see deep inside that there was something troubling her.
"What's going on?" I asked worriedly, lending William my thumb to suck on to soothe his soft crying. She tore her eyes from mine, looking down at her sleeves, pulling them over her knuckles. I took her right hand, holding Will securely with my left, and pushed up her sleeve to reveal deep cuts lacing her forearm, some of them fresh. I gasped, horrified. She turned away from me, and I placed my hand on her shoulder. She turned towards me, but still refused to meet my eyes. "What happened?" I said softly. Her head sank into her hands, her sobs coming out in torrents now. I sat up and wrapped my arm around her, pushing her head into the crook of my neck, her small hands wrapping around my arm, clinging to me like a life raft.

After a moment, she pulled back," Night terrors." she said, pulling out a tissue and wiping her eyes," It happens in my sleep." she said," Is it worse at the flat?" I asked," N-no... It's Clara..." she sniffled, the pain in her eyes clear now. "She called me two weeks ago... she said something about a guy... we got into this big fight... we both said things we can't take back... I just miss her so much!" she sobbed, leaning into me. Will was resting peacefully against my chest, my thumb still in his mouth. I let her cry, and then she pulled back, wiping her eyes and putting on her 'brave-face', or at least that's what she called it when I was little when dad would come home from a long night of drinking, taking out whatever he wanted on us. (Put on your brave-face, Johnny. Fight it out until the end, It's going to be okay.) I remember the first time she told me that. It was after having the belt three nights in a row, when I hid in my room the next morning, refusing to come out and go to the bus stop.
She forced a smile," But things will sort themselves out, right?" she croaked, her voice cracking from crying so hard," They always do... eventually."

She stayed for maybe another hour or so before taking Will and leaving to the flat, wishing me well as she closed the door for the night.

Seven Hours Later

I had fallen asleep at least an hour ago, but I was woken up by a loud crash from over by the door. I bolted up in my bed, wincing as the bruises around my waist from where Moriartys hands gripped me too tight. There was a figure standing against the door, leaning against it, while the chair that had been placed next to the door had been knocked over. I couldn't see the figure standing against the door, but I could hear their breath. I turned the lights on from the switch by my bed.
"Christ, Sherlock!" I exclaimed, swinging my leg over the edge of the bed and standing up, leaning against the wall to get over to my cane that Harry had brought from home, limping quickly to where Sherlock was panting, his face ghostly against the dark wood of the door, one hand clutching the door handle while the other was grasping the I.V drip pole connected to his arm. I supported him, wrapping my arm firmly around his bony hips and leaning him against me, leading him slowly over to the bed. He collapsed against it when we reached it, his hand still clutching my hospital gown.

"What the hell are you doing out of bed, love?" I scolded lightly, wiping sweaty strands of hair from his forehead, his eyes wide and panicked," I had to see you." he whispered, his baritone voice failing him to a light whisper," I was so worried about you when... When I saw him, I knew he was there to get you." he leaned against me, too tired to keep his head up any longer," I tried to fight back, I swear I did... Everything just happened so fast... I tried, John..." he sobbed, both of his terrifyingly thin hands clutching me around my middle.
I ignored the pain of his wrists against my bruises and held him even tighter, bringing his head close to my chest. I laid back, pulling him with me," You should just stay here tonight." I said, kissing his cheek. He nodded and pulled his I.V drip around to the other side of the bed, clutching me close to him, his breathing eventually evened, and he fell asleep.

But I barely slept that night. I kept my eyes fixed on the open door of the hospital room, mentally daring Moriarty to take us now.

Author's Notes:

Okay, I know what you guys are thinking. "Where the hell did all of these updates come from?" Well, going through stress and battling my inner demons brings out my crazy writing side, and I have to write constantly, so why not do it for you guys? I personally love where this story is going, but I want to know what YOU guys think! More or less of anything, please let me know in the comments section!

Also! Someone in the comments said something about John being a 'Mama Bear' (thank you, citizen) and I really liked that idea, so I decided to put that into the rest of this story, and possibly the next one.

Thank you for all of your support and love, and I will be updating more now that I got a laptop! YAY!
-PerfectMoments