Author's note: I am so sorry for the delay! I actually have a good reason for it, but I am not going to put it in the note. This is a story after all!

Pairing: Sherlock x Anderson (pre – slash)

Warnings: Severe injury. No mention of blood though. Oh, and Pre – slash.

Disclaimer: I do not own Sherlock

P.S. It's set before John.

Regret

Anderson sat in the waiting room at the hospital staring blankly at his hands. They were covered in blood, Sherlock's blood. For so long, he had ridiculed and said harmful words to the other, yet, when Sherlock had noticed someone getting ready to shoot him, he didn't hesitate getting in the way.

Flashback

Anderson was talking with Sally when the one he regularly called a freak slammed into him and dropped him at the ground. Preparing to shout at him, he blanched once he noticed that the consultant was bleeding. "The shooter is on the tree in front of us, the one you called creepy. Can you see him?" The raven haired man asked between painful gasps. "Yes." Anderson whispered back.

"Take the gun in my back pocket and shoot him." The genius gasped again, and Anderson hurried to comply. To the surprise of everyone but Sherlock and Anderson, he hit the target perfectly. Once he was certain the danger passed, Sherlock stood up but became dizzy and passed out.

"Holmes! Hey, Holmes, don't close your eyes!" Anderson barked as he caught him before he hit the ground. The detective didn't respond however. "Sally, call an ambulance!" The woman hurried to comply with his order, having never seen the other like this before.

Tearing open the shirt the other was wearing, Anderson applied pressure to the wound with his gloved hands, trying to stop the blood flow. Just when he was starting to get afraid that the ambulance would be too late, they finally arrived and took the consultant to the hospital.

Remembering all the curses he had spat at the other, the forensics agent felt shame and regret curl in his stomach. Just then, the doctor came out. "Sherlock Holmes?" He asked and they stood up, DI Lestrade showing his badge. "How is he?" Lestrade asked and Anderson was waiting anxiously to hear whether or not the other was alright.

"The surgery went well; the patient is currently awake and eating. We had a small problem at the start when he refused to eat, but a blood test we made shows that most foods can't be digested by your friend, which is a bad thing. His mind works so fast, even when he is unconscious, that he burns through the sugar in his blood steam easily. We are going to have to make him a detailed diet plan to aid his recovery. He is also not allowed any active work until his bones strengthen."

Anderson felt stabs of guilt in his stomach. All this time, he thought the other was anorexic. "You can give the plan to me, I will take care of him." The forensics analyst said, surprising his teammates. The doctor agreed and once he was assured that contact details would be given to the secretary downstairs, he left.

Anderson turned to leave as well, however, Lestrade asked him a question that stopped him. "Why?" "Because I regret how I acted all this time I have known him." Was his simple answer as he turned and left.