The Heart of Mr Holmes

by xxNellxx

When a woman moves into 221A, she soon befriends those from 221B. Though hiding her feelings for the tall man in the coat & scarf is harder then what she thought- especially when she is given a deed in which could cost more then one life and one heart- OC

22. Waking Up

Ok so I was thinking about my ending to this story last night and I realised that I'd done the wrong thing by ending it the way it did. Therefore- I thought about it today and came up with this finale chapter. I hope you've enjoyed reading this and I hope you enjoy the finale chapter and that you also agree with me on this, Thank you,

Nell

xxxx

Chapter 22

Waking Up

"Sherlock?"

"Sherlock?"

"Sherlock?"

The name seemed to buzz around his head, though he couldn't quite make out what was being said.

"Sherlock?"

"Sherlock?"

Then like the click of fingers he realised it was his own name. Everything was slowly becoming clear, their was a bright light shining down into his eyes, he did his best to close his eyes to shield them from the blinding light.

"I think he's waking."

"Sherlock?"

He heard John's panicked voice say and in the background, another voice. The voice was sad and gloomy, whoever it was sounded dead themselves...as if they'd been crying. Another ear pricing noise filled his head. It was the sound of police sirens. The noise was distressing and the light was hurting his eyes.

"Thank God, he's awake!" John called over his shoulder; Sherlock looked up at his friend who smiled down at him in utter relief. Everything had come into perfect view, his senses fully restored. He was lying in an ambulance behind the National Portrait Gallery. He recognised the "shock" blanket that had been draped over his shoulders, staring at it he groaned and pulled it from over himself before trying to stand up on his feet, though he found himself being pulled back down, not just by John who sighed at him but also by somebody else who he refused to look at. Mycroft Holmes stood beside John with his usual umbrella in his right hand. Mycroft forced a quick smile at his brother and opened his mouth ready to speak.

"Now now Sherlock, you need rest." He ordered quietly turning to face John.

"I don't need your advice, thanks." Sherlock mumbled sarcastically. Mycroft shrugged and left the ambulance leaving John with Sherlock. Wait a second, Sherlock thought to himself, he shouldn't be here, he should be at 221b right now. He'd gotten a taxi to Baker Street just off Trafalgar Square. Page...Page was dead. The sudden thought caused Sherlock to leap from out of the ambulance and into the night. Sgt Donavan noticed his sudden movement and instantly alerted DI Lestrade who eyed Holmes from a distance.

"Sherlock, thank goodness you're alright!" Sherlock spun around to see a shaken Page leap straight into his arms. "I was so worried about you, thank you for saving me like that. I'm so sorry that any of this ever happened." She cried into his shoulder before steeping out of the hug and wiping her tears away. "I was with you in the ambulance, however your brother I think, pushed me out of the way." She told him glancing over at Mycroft who was discussing something with "that" woman who was always with him and texting on her mobile.

"But you died." Sherlock whispered. Page's smiled faded and she crossed her arms, screwing up her face. Sherlock was staring right at her, though he did not look at her. He was watching her die inside his mind. He'd held her in her dying minutes, they'd kissed.

"What?" She snapped breaking the visions from out of Sherlock's mind.

"What happened to me?" Sherlock order grasping her shoulders and shaking her a little. Page cried a little and shook her head.

"I don't know...it went dark and then the street lights came back on and he was gone. You came over to me and helped me out of the rope...and then it went black again and you were lying on the ground...passed out." She whispered as if he should know this. Sherlock stared ahead and grinned. Cleaver Moriarty...though technically Sherlock had won this one. He'd escaped without anyone dying...well at least nobody he cared about.

"I was drugged..." The words washed away into the cold air and he left Page's side and started walking. He walked past Sgt Donavan and Anderson who were now huddled together, the cold had finally started to chill them.

"Hey freak!" She called after him. "How's the shock?" She laughed, Sherlock turned away and ignored her stupidity, he couldn't be bothered with her constant drabble. Page watched after him and sent a rather evil glance in Donavan's direction who chose to act as if she'd not seen it. So none of it had happened, there had been no kiss. Sherlock, in a way, was somewhat glad by this. At least no hearts would be broken...again. Mycroft soon approached John once again who kept his voice low when speaking to him.

"Try not to let him get into anymore trouble, I do worry about him." He said. John chuckled and nodded his head knowing that nothing could stop Sherlock Holmes getting into trouble.