Author's Note: Firstly, I have to apologise about the update. A levels are evil and so any of my stories will be updated on Saturdays only, unless you're bloody lucky! Anyway, I believe this to be the last chapter, so some overall reveiws would be lovely! If you don't want it to end here, say; but I think it's an appropriate ending! Enjoy!
Love, Ruby xx
DISCLAIMER: I don't own Sherlock! :(
I must have fallen asleep at some point as I awoke to find myself being prodded like a corpse on the floor next to John's bed. "Go away Mycroft, unless you've got anything to say that I really want to hear." I muttered as I looked up at my brother who was looming over me with a rather irritated expression.
"Just get up Sherlock. Can you not sleep in a bed like the rest of us?" he asked. Theory confirmed, he's annoyed because his girlfriend left early this morning without any favours.
"Why would I want to be like the rest of you?" I asked, "And I Apollo use for your lack of activity this morning and tell your girlfriend to have a lovely time in Manchester today." All my statement earned was a glare, that woman clearly got to him.
He turned to walk away befor uttering, "Good mooring to you too Sherlock. Your chemicals have been confiscated and were grown away three days after you left. I assume I'll see you at some point during the day." And with that, the annoying git was gone.
"Excuse me, you're Sherlock aren't you?" asked a small woman as I sat up on the floor, vaguely aware that I had a slamming headache coming on.
"Yes, why do you want to know?" I groaned. My head was really going to hurt in about five minutes. I briefly contemplated 'sharing' John's morphine drip.
"I'm Delilah. I'm John's main doctor now. He's got better so the others have left. We're going to start waking him up now, so if you'd kindly leave. I'm sorry you can't stay, but it's not always pleasant and I'd rather you weren't here. It would also increase the chances of him being well if you left as I focus better without an audience. I promise I'll call for you when all is well." She sounded patronising, but if it would help John, I would go; only next door to be precise... Or down the drainpipe again. I needed tort my violin.
I got up and left without saying anything. That headache had really hit now, it felt like someone had dropped a tonne of bricks on my head.
I walked up and down the corridor for what felt like hours. What had happened to me? I was a montage of feelings and emotion, as opposed to logic and facts. These emotions made me irrational, this I did not like. I scolded myself repeatedly for letting this cloud my judgement and razor sharp intuition. I now understood why people with feelings could not function at the same high level as me; that still does not mean I accept it.
My mind wandered to John again. My blogger, my doctor, my accomplice, my friend. I had never had a friend before, all of the reasons for which I'm sure are obvious, even to the lower level thinkers. John was a first for many things, and probably the last. Most likely the first and last person I'll ever fully trust. I'd entrust my life to John, but to no other person. This was definitely the unknown. Holmeses do not like the unknown; not one bit.
I stopped my rapid walk up and down the corridor and slumped down onto the floor with my back pressed tightly to the wall. I threw my head into my hands and rubbed my eyes feverishly with the heels of my palms. I was tired, and this, naturally, lead to an increase in irrationality, but this was no excuse. Tears began to stream down my face as I became overwhelmed by guilt, worry and shear terror for losing a companion. Emotional attachment really is a very good motivator for crime.
At last, the words I wanted to hear came bellowing down the hall. "Sherlock Holmes! You can see him now. He's awake, just in a slightly delicate state."
I'd never been so thrilled in my life; not even running through the streets of London after Moriarty could compare to the sensation I felt at this point.
I stepped tentatively towards the room, unsure if what I heard was the truth. As I said, I was tired and thus emotional, henceforth my judgement was not at its peak.
I walked through the doorway and a megawatt smile spread across my features as I saw my companion awake in the bed.
"Come 'ere you!" he said softly as he held out both of his arms in my direction, encouraging me forwards and into a tight embrace.
"John, I-"
"It's ok, I'm here. I'm really here." he comforted as the torrent of tears began again and I sobbed lightly into his shoulder, overcome with sheer elation that he was back. Back with me, where he belonged.
Intelligence and valiance, for better or for worse.