A.N: Thanks so much to everyone that has read this, put on subscription and commented. It means sooo much! Sorry it took a long while, prsonal life got in the way. Sorry also that this might not be of top quality. I was struggling with this chapter to try and move the story on but i now know where to go with it. Thanks! JJ
When John opened his eyes again, it was daylight still. But he felt more rested despite his current condition, so he guessed that he had been spark out since yesterday.
Sherlock was also deep in sleep. He hadn't slept since before the case of the killer frogs, which was nearly... Oh, my god, I don't know how long I've been here. The doctor said that I'd been in a coma, but for how long?
From looking at Sherlock from the corner of his eye, he looked as if he'd been there for a long while. Starting to grow stubble, crinkled suit, yes John had picked up a few things from Sherlock when it came to deducing. He moved his eyes around the room, looking at all the "Get Well" cards probably from his sister and the people at Scotland Yard and a bouquet of flowers, no doubt from Mrs. Hudson.
What did catch his eye was a screen, closer than you would put a TV directly in front of him, in his direct line of sight. The screen was lit up with all sorts of words and a conventional keyboard also on-screen too. What irritated him also in his line of sight is something in the corner of his eye. John then figured it was connected to the screen in front of him. He moved his eye to one of the words and found that the cursor moved with it. He blinked to select the word and blinked again to drop it into the speech box. He then took the cursor towards the 'Speak' button and blinked.
"Sherlock."
Sherlock startled awake like a deer caught in the headlights of a car. He looked around then turned his eyes to John.
"Sherlock."
Sherlock stood up and was immediately by John's side. He watched John's face as he tried to work the new eye-tracking equipment Mycroft brought in especially as to ease the speaking barrier and to bring his brother some comfort that John would be able to talk, no matter in what way possible. It also came with specialised dictionary of words, no doubt Mycroft's doing to tailor it to John's needs.
"I love you."
Sherlock's heart swelled immeasurably. He was at last communicating with his loved one, his John, the person that made him become a good man. John is the man that is the sun to his moon, if he believed any of this orbiting malarkey.
"I... I love you too. I'm so happy that you are communicating to me finally. It's such an overwhelming feeling to hear you and your thoughts. It's been insanely dull here." Sherlock choked out a laugh.
"I have been hearing you berate the staff! It's not on Sherlock. I know how hard they work, I am a doctor. But, it is so good to hear and see you now."
Sherlock gave a chaste kiss to his fiancé but then paused. "Can you... can you feel me... kiss you?"
"Oh god, yes. I've missed this. I've missed you."
Sherlock longingly kissed him again, unfazed by John's unmoving lips.
"I'm sorry I can't reciprocate-"
"No, you do not be sorry. This is not your fault. I blame myself. I put you in here just because I didn't observe the signs that he was following us. I'm so sorry John and I will never forgive myself for what I've done."
"Sherlock, please do not blame yourself. You did not know just like me that he was going to come after us."
"Still all the same, I should have seen this coming. I cannot live without you John. Please, fight. I can't bear it. Please be ok-", Sherlock hugged John as tears threatened to spill.
"I don't intend to be going anywhere soon, definitely not in the immediate future."
Sherlock let out a low laugh mixed with sobs. "Regardless, I want to see you walk down the aisle to meet me and have our ceremony. Would you please do that for me?"
"Of course I will. Hey! What makes you think I'll be the bride walking down the aisle last? You'd look better in a dress with your long, curly locks!"
Sherlock let out a happier baritone laugh that John felt the vibrations of in his lungs. "That is as maybe, but I would like to see my soldier doctor march down that aisle towards me in full regalia and fully recovered, ready to take me as your husband and possibly more on the honeymoon." Sherlock said with a wink.
"How did I know that was your intentions for me to marry you?"
Sherlock giggled till he was interrupted by one of the nurses and a porter.
"Sorry to break this up, but we have to take you Dr Watson down for an MRI to assess the extent of the damage the trauma caused within the brain. This porter will be taking you down now", the nurse said with a curt smile.
"See you soon John. Love you." Sherlock said with a kiss to John's lips.
"Love you too. Get some rest and go back to the flat to refresh and recharge and I'll see you soon."
With their conversation at an end, the porter along with the nurse took John to the MRI suite. John was taken a few floors down to the suite and rolled in beside the huge MRI machine, where another two nurses slid him onto the MRI bed. Within 45 minutes, all manner of pictures of John's brain were taken to ensure he'd have the best prognosis and treatment possible. When he was finished with, John was slid back onto the bed and the nurses left him to be taken up by the porter. What he didn't ever reckon would happen is who was walking into the suite dressed in porters clothes.
"Hey Johnny boy! Did you miss me? Cause I missed you, but not half as much as I missed Sherlock!" Moriarty said with an evil, unsettling grin on his face.
With the audio visual equipment left in his room and his vocal chords couldn't move to scream, all he could do was stare in horror as Moriarty wheeled John out of the suite and towards what the signs were indicating as the mortuary.
"Well, this is your stop here, Johnny boy." Moriarty stopped the bed in the middle of the room and faced John. "All the home comforts of dead bodies and tools for slicing open corpses, it's a pity we had a mix up with the rooms when you first came in. That little thug that hit you didn't do his job properly, but now you're in the right place." Moriarty's unsettling grin was back.
"Oh, congratulations by the way on your impending nuptials, although you won't actually get to see them," Moriarty said with a hint of derision, "you see, what my little minion did actually do was incapacitate you to the highest extent. Sooooo... you won't be able to run, scream or do anything when the coroner comes back in and finds a very fresh body to cut up." Moriarty sighs contently. "Then I'll be able to play with my little Sherlock. Ooooh! We'll have so much fun!" Moriarty cheerfully quipped. "And you, damaged little mongrel, will get to sit in these nice little fridges and cool off, assuming you're still alive of course." Moriarty whispered, close to John's ear. "Once I get to play and finish my game with Sherlock, he can join you here. Dead or alive, I haven't decided yet."
Moriarty walked towards the swing doors of the mortuary exit. "Byeeee!" In that moment, he was gone, his parting words ringing in the mortuary and John's ears.
Oh christ, what the hell am I going to do? I need to warn Sherlock, anyone! Argh, how can I do that when I'm a vegetable? Oh... Oh god...
The coroner came bustling in the door with a glum look on his face as if the weight of the world was on him. He definitely looked over-worked and sighed when he saw John.
"Oh goodie, another one that's pegged it. Let's see who you are- oh, great. No details at all and the bed-sheets are still on him. What do they get paid for upstairs? It certainly isn't stripping the bed and body. Ok you, let's get you on the steel table so you won't make a mess."
At that moment, a squeak came out of John, as if to try and scream at this man that he's still alive. The coroner turned his head slowly towards his supposed 'corpse' and saw that he was blinking rapidly as well as squeaking.
"Oh, my god!" The coroner screamed and ran out of the mortuary, leaving John wondering whether he would be getting out of this cold room soon to warn someone of Moriarty's intentions.