John's head was spinning. When Sherlock had started to move he'd expected that maybe Sherlock was ready to talk about the situation with Mycroft, but not kiss him. Sherlock Holmes had kissed him. John stared at Sherlock. Sherlock looked so fragile and John wasn't able to leave him in this state, how could he? He kept his arms around Sherlock's body. Sherlock just looked back at him, his face was close, his eyes were red from crying and quite empty from lack of food and anxiety. With a sigh Sherlock crawled back inside his arms. John kept his arms tightly around Sherlock, but kept on staring in front of him, still feeling how Sherlock's lips had felt against his own. And to be honest, he'd liked it. But it had taken him by surprise. His head continued spinning. He'd never thought that Sherlock would be able to feel anything. He knew that Sherlock cared about his family and his friends, but to feel something more... It must've been this situation that had made Sherlock do it. Mycroft in a coma, it must've messed with Sherlock's head. He wasn't aware of what he'd been doing. It was just the situation, John thought. But it left John with thoughts and feelings he'd not been ready to deal with. John had been in relationships with men before. The first had been in the army, with Major Sholto. It had been his first experience with a man. And after that he had had some relationships with men over the years, he'd always felt comfortable being with men. But still he had gone back to women every time. Why? He didn't really know. He liked both genders. It was the personality, not the gender that mattered. And Sherlock was the biggest, most brilliant person he'd met in his life. He was his best friend. And he had always found him attractive and interesting, but nothing more. Nothing more? No, he didn't have feelings for Sherlock. That's insane, John thought. But still, he had enjoyed the kiss. Enjoyed it so much that he really wanted it to happen again. And this fact was a lot to take in for John. In his arms he felt Sherlock fall asleep. John stayed and held him for a while. Then he carefully laid him on the floor, went to get a pillow and a blanket and tucked him in. John lay down on the sofa to be close to Sherlock, in case he woke up and needed him. Before he fell asleep he touched his lips absentmindedly, a reminder of where Sherlock's lips had been.

The next morning when Sherlock woke up his whole body ached. He looked as bad as he felt and knew that he'd been sleeping on the floor all night. It had often happened before when he'd been on drugs, but it hadn't happened in a long time. Why am I on the floor now? Sherlock sat up and stretched his aching body. What happened to me yesterday? He looked around and saw John on the sofa, still sleeping. He looked so peaceful when he was sleeping. Sherlock followed each and every line on his face and smiled to himself. When his eyes reached John's mouth the memory of kissing him returned to Sherlock. What did I do? Did I kiss John Watson? I promised myself I would never to do that. But yes, I kissed him. John's lips, oh they felt so sweet against my own. Why did I give in to temptation? Since that day he saved me by killing the cabbie I knew that I had feelings for him. He's the first person to see me and actually stay, actually like me for who I am. But acting on my feelings isn't something I'm supposed to do. Caring is not an advantage. That's what I've heard all of my life and that's what I've been living by. And after all, John isn't gay, he doesn't see me that way. But I kissed him. And he didn't leave. He didn't return the kiss, but he didn't leave. Why didn't he leave? He stayed and took care of me so maybe I didn't screw up. But why did he take care of me? Then everything came back to him, Mycroft is in hospital, in a coma and it's my fault. It should've been me.

The sun streaked in through the window and hit John's peaceful face. He frowned when the light hit him and woke up. He looked at Sherlock and smiled. He smiled at me, maybe I didn't screw up?

- You're awake, John said.

- Yes.

- You should've woken me.

- You looked so peaceful, I didn't want to wake you, Sherlock said

Peaceful, what? Why did you say that? Poor choice of words. Don't embarrass yourself now. Don't make it worse. Sherlock shook his head. John pushed himself up and was now sitting. Sherlock felt John's eyes examine his every move.

- Great, good. Did you get any sleep?

- Yes.

Sherlock didn't look him in the eye.

- That's good. How are you feeling?

- I won't answer that, you're not my doctor.

- Well technically I am.

- No, you're my army doctor, and I still won't answer that.

- That's fine then.

Sherlock looked up at John and their eyes met. John didn't lower his eyes, he just looked at Sherlock. Sherlock tried to see any trace of John wanting to talk about the kiss, any trace of wanting to run away or any trace of regrets. But John only smiled and in his eyes there weren't any traces of regret or confusion, just... love? For him? This confused Sherlock. Why does he care about me? After what I did? I'm the reason Mycroft's in a coma. I kissed John. Why is he staying? I'm not worth it, he shouldn't be staying!

- Breakfast then? John said smiling. He stood up and started to walk out to the kitchen

- Not hungry, Sherlock replied, also standing up.

- You need to eat before we go to the hospital, John said from the kitchen.

- The hospital?!

Sherlock froze mid movement.

- Yes, we need to go and visit your brother.

- No. I can't do that.

- Why the hell are you saying that?

John turned and stood in front of him.

- Because... Sherlock began. Because...

John looked at him, pouting. Stop it, Sherlock thought looking at John's mouth, that's distracting.

- Just because! Sherlock said promptly.

- That's not a reason, John said and now he crossed his arms over his chest.

- Yes it is.

- No it's not Sherlock Holmes.

It had now become a staring competition between them, both stubborn, both wanting to win.

- Tell me the real reason Sherlock Holmes.

- No.

- Just do it Sherlock.

- Oh, ok. But if I do, you can't force me to eat breakfast.

- Ok, but then you can't refuse dinner!

- Deal!

- Deal.

John stood there patiently waiting for Sherlock's explanation. He had his eyes fixed on Sherlock. Sherlock looked down. When I tell him he'll hate me, he'll leave, I'll be alone. I can't do alone again. Alone kills me. Alone is what I fear. But I promised John I'd tell him. And then I don't have to eat breakfast.

- It's my fault that Mycroft is in the hospital, Sherlock said slowly and quietly

- What? John said and now he really looked concerned.

- I said that it's my fault! Sherlock growled at John who took a step back.

- Easy Sherlock, I can hear you just fine.

John walked up to Sherlock who now was shaking, feeling the anger, the pain and the agony from yesterday rushing back in his body. John put his hands on Sherlock's arms and then he stroked them to calm Sherlock down. When Sherlock had relaxed a bit John took hold of his hands and squeezed them gently.

- It's not your fault Sherlock. It was an accident.

Sherlock looked down, still trembling but keeping a firm grip on John's hands. Please don't leave me.

- Yes it is...

- Why do you say so?

John squeezed his hands, Sherlock felt chills down his spine. He took a shivery breath, mainly because John was holding his hands, but to John it looked like he was having trouble talking about the accident.

- Mycroft...

- Yes...?

Breath in again.

- Mycroft offered me a case. I refused and said that he needed to do some things for himself. He was on his way to Wales, where the client lived, when the accident occurred. If I hadn't refused this wouldn't have happen. It should've been me.

- Oh Sherlock. Don't say that. You know that it wasn't your fault. It's just a coincidence, nothing more.

- The universe is rarely that lazy.

- I know Sherlock. But this time it was. It was an accident. And you taking the case wouldn't have stopped it from happening.

- You don't know that.

- That's true. But I still know that this wasn't your fault. And Mycroft knows it too. And your parents. No one blames you.

Sherlock looked up and met John's warm and caring eyes. John squeezed his hands again.

- No one blames me?

- No one blames you Sherlock. John smiled a warm and gentle smile.

Sherlock squeezed John's hands and John answered the squeeze. Gazing into John's eyes Sherlock's mind was swept away. And before he realized what he was doing he'd leaned in and kissed John again. John's lips felt soft and warm and lovely against his own. He started to move his lips, wanting to feel more this time, and he felt that John was starting to respond the kiss when he backed off and let go off their hands.

- What the hell are you doing Sherlock?

Sherlock stared at John. Yes, what am I doing? Did I kiss John again? Am I out of my mind? Not only once, but twice in less than 24 hours. Sherlock held his hand over his mouth. John is gonna leave me now for sure. Why isn't he leaving? I screwed up! John stared at him, clearly shocked by the situation.

- I don't know. I'm sorry John. I'm sorry!

- Did you just kiss me? Why did you kiss me Sherlock?

- No! Yes! No! I don't know. I didn't kiss you.

- It clearly felt like a kiss.

- It did?

- Yes it did!

- Was it good?

- Oh god Sherlock! Why are you asking that!?

- I don't know.

- Me neither!

They looked at each other. Sherlock could not cope with John looking this hurt and confused. I screwed up. I need to disappear. Where can I go?

- I need a shower...

With that Sherlock rushed to the bathroom and locked the door