They were all in her room. She was unconscious, and her body was full of countless stitches. Sherlock was sitting on a chair beside her, and John was on a chair next to him. Mycroft was standing at the corner.
"It's your fault." Sherlock muttered.
"Excuse me?"
"Everything. This. Your fault."
"And how is it my fault exactly?" he asked angrily.
"If you hadn't made her go with you …" he said and turned on the chair so he'll face him.
"This has nothing to do with me! If you want to blame anyone, blame yourself."
"Me?!" he got up and stood a few paces away from him.
"You asked her to sniff around about Moriarty! She did it to please you!" he raised his voice, almost shouting now.
"You gave her the chance to do so!" Sherlock was shouting.
"Sherlock…" John tried to calm them and stood up as well.
"She wouldn't have known about him if you hadn't told her!"
"Boys!" John shouted, and they both turned to look at him. But their gaze drifted from him to what was behind him. Dana's eyes were open now, and she was breathing heavily, looking around in fear. Sherlock rushed to her, sat next to her and took her hand in his.
"Hey. Hey, it's ok. It's ok. You're safe now. Everything's alright." he took slow, deep breathes, and Dana did the same. She calmed down after a while, and starting understanding what was happening.
"I'm in the hospital."
"Yes." Sherlock confirmed.
"I'm alive."
"Yes." he confirmed as well, this time with relief.
She looked down at her hand. Sherlock was holding it, and he pulled his hand back now.
She looked to Mycroft now. He seemed relieved, but also extremely hurt. After a second she remembered why.
"Mycroft, I…" her voice trailed off.
"It's alright. You just helped me do what I was afraid of, but now I see that is very necessary."
"What? What are you talking about?"
"I think you know what I'm talking about. I can't do this anymore, Dana. I love you, you know I do, but that's not enough. There are things that are more important for a relationship. Like trust, and understanding, which we both have a lack of. But you do have it with him, and I don't want to be the one who got in your way. I would have waited with this until you're better so you won't be alone, but you're not alone. You have him."
"I'm sorry." she whispered with sparkling eyes.
"Not as much as I am."
He turned to walk away, and he stood at the door when she called him.
"Mycroft?"
"Yes?"
"We could still be friends, right? I can't live without you."
He hesitated for a moment.
"Of course we can." he said and then left. He knew staying friends with her would hurt him, but he still loved her, and he'd do anything to keep her happy.
"I think we'll go now." John said eventually.
"What? Why?" Sherlock asked confused.
"Come on, let's go." he said and pulled Sherlock out by his arm. And as they left the room, they heard her starting weeping quietly.