"What did you take?" I questioned suspiciously in a low tone. In the background I could hear the chatter of the radio.

He keeps staring at me, taking every detail of my face in. It was unnerving and sweet at the same time but I couldn't appreciate it much. I could feel the blood seeping into my shoes. I didn't want to check on it, I didn't know how he'd react but I knew it was getting worse. I was starting to feel faint and my body started to relax.

"I'm sorry you have to watch this." He muttered sincerely.

I barely had time to see him convulse before I my head hit the floor next to him.


For once, Mycroft was silent as he stared at the ugly sight beneath him. Almost entwined but not quite lay his brother and a female civilian, both unconscious and worse for wear. He motioned the others forward and they checked if Sherlock was still breathing. He was almost unrelieved when they told him his airways were clear as a wave of anger overcame him. As the older brother, he knew he had the duty of protecting him and Sherlock's reckless behaviour had caused increased chaos in his life recently. He had hoped his return to morgue and his dive back into cases meant he was becoming less erratic and unpredictable. His men carried them both to the edge of the woods into the black van and he followed closely behind.

"Where to Boss?"

"St Mary's." He said automatically, the trips to the hospital were becoming too repetitive.

He wondered how the girl fitted in with this scenario but doubted it'd be very interesting. Although, it was unusual for Sherlock to socialise with others on his rogue drug fuelled 'experiments' and he definitively didn't expect her to be lay there next to her.

"Make sure you get an ID on her." He added suspiciously.

Amy's POV

I woke up with the sound of nurse leaving the room. I don't remember falling asleep and I slowly adjust to the brightness of the room as my eyes expand. I look down to see the needles in my arms and go to tug at them when the women runs back in.

"Hi Amy. Let's not mess with them, okay?" She looks at me for confirmation and I squint at her angrily while resting my arm in the right position. I notice the bandage on my leg and am both surprised and disturbed that I can't feel any pain.

"Do you know where you are?"

"Hospital." I say sharply while a rise of sickness comes up.

Loud beeping comes down for the hallway and the nurse furrows her brows in worry and heads towards the door. She turns right and starts running. I relax a little and consider discharging myself. I hated hospitals and my stomach kept churning.

All security please be on the look out for the patient Sherlock Holmes. He requires urgent medical assistance.

I couldn't help but smile as I hear the announcement and begin to picture the man feeling the scene. I start to remember how crazy last night was and I was relieved to know the man was still breathing – even if he was running out of hospital.

I was just about to draw my eyes away from the door when a face appears from the left. He was grinning. My mouth opened but nothing came out. In a matter of seconds and without a long of thought took out all of the tubes and swung my legs over the side of the bed.

"We haven't got long." He said entering the room surprisingly fully dressed, managing to conceal himself while security ran past.

I suddenly remember how bad the gash on my leg was yesterday and reconsider leaving.

"What about my leg?" I say, biting my lip.

"I know a doctor." He said assuring. I looked at him, finding this hard to believe.

"The man you met yesterday." I remember the smaller middle-aged man and decided to trust him. My legs wobbled as I put weight on them but I forced him to walk to the Sherlock. He watched me closely before offering me his hand which I didn't want to accept but did as I was unsure how sturdy I was.

I felt exposed in my hospital gown as he pulled me around a planned escae route to an old, unused fire exit door. He paused to breathe and let go of my hand. I watched him wearily, he looked sick and I suddenly felt responsible for his health.

"Maybe we shouldn't leave. I think you need some rest… Or something." I said reconsidering the whole idea.

"Me? What about you?" He eyes my leg and then looks up at me.

"I'm serious." I cross my arms in frustration. He overdosed less than twelve hours ago.

"I'm immortal. Lets go." He says sarcastically.

He cracks the door open wide enough to scan the concrete parking lot and concludes it's safe to go. Even though I knew what we were doing was wrong, I couldn't go back. I hated hospitals and I found the man interesting and for once wanted to socialise. He was going to leave with or without me. I might as well tag along.

AN: Let me know what you think of the story so far. Any suggestions?