Chapter 10
Sherlock walked back to Baker Street instinctively - he didn't need to think, he was his own GPS.
He barged into 221B and skipped two stairs at a time. He pushed the door open and walked in, hanging up his coat and scarf. He spun around the room, and detected that nothing has been touched or moved since he left. That means that John hadn't been there.
Curiously, Sherlock barged through their only bedroom to find that John wasn't there either.
"John?" Sherlock called out. Seconds later, he heard muffled groans echo from the bathroom and immediately, he made his way to the bathroom. "John, are you-" His words were cut short as he saw John laying on the ground, tears streaking down his face.
"Sherlock, I-"
"We need to get you to a hospital." Sherlock said instantly, his fingers trembling as he reached for John.
John couldn't get up. In fact, he was too weak to get up. In a state of panic, which didn't happen very often for Sherlock, he reached for John's cell phone, which was appropriately placed on the counter top and he immediately dialled and demanded for an ambulance.
A few minutes later, the blaring of sirens could be heard in the distance and Mrs. Hudson rushed upstairs, a worried look on her face.
"Sherlock, what happened?" She queried, scurrying towards the bathroom, where Sherlock held John in his arms. "Oh my..."
"Mrs. Hudson, the ambulance should be here in thirty seconds, please stand outside and wave them in."
Without questioning John's condition, she nodded quickly and rushed downstairs and followed Sherlock's instructions. As predicted, thirty seconds had passed and the paramedics were in his flat, already taking care of John.
They brought John outside and placed him on a guernsey and putting him in the back of the ambulance. Sherlock rode along, flashing them the stolen police identification that he pick-pocketed from Lestrade. The paramedics eyed Sherlock and John, and Sherlock knew that they knew about their relationship troubles. Sherlock ignored them.
As they made their way into the hospital, Sherlock stared hopelessly at John. John was unconscious at this point, and Sherlock didn't know what he could do for his partner. There really was nothing he could do but make pointless deductions about John's symptoms. But every time he tried to do that, he came up blank, his mind empty and black, like an endless black hole. This was something he didn't know about.
And that worried him more than anything.