Chapter 2

As Sherlock entered the room, John was lying in the hospital-bed. His eyes were closed. Several cables were attached to the skin. Some of them lead to a heart-monitor which showed John's heart rate, blood pressure and pulse. The pulse-frequency was slow. The alarm of the monitor yelled every two minutes because John´s blood pressure was too low.

Sherlock moved forward, closer to the bed. "John, can you hear me? It's Sherlock! John, wake up, please!" he whispered with a low voice. The figure in bed was not moving. Sherlock had hoped his voice would make John respond. The doctor had told him, that they were running several tests to locate the problem. It was now the second day after the blast. Yesterday Sherlock was not allowed to visit because John was treated on the ICU and he was not family. He had tried to get access, but neither charming nor threatening had helped. The dragon outside would not let him in. So Sherlock spent the night on the bench and waited for news. Lestrade had gone back to the Yard for the paperwork, but he had promised to return the next day.

This morning John had been moved to a normal hospital room so Sherlock had been allowed to see him. The doctor in charge was an old uni-friend so he had given him some details of John's status. But because the tests were still running there had been not much to tell. John could breathe alone but his body seems as if it was shutting down all the processes not needed. And the coma seemed to be deep. So far they had not reached him or got any sign of respond.

"Honestly Sherlock, if he will not wake up in the following 48 hours, the prognosis is not good. But you can go now and see him. Maybe your presence will help to find the way back." Sherlock had nodded and went to see his friend.

Now he took the visitors chair from the corner and moved it closer to the bed. Then he began to wait for John to wake up.

"Any news?" Lestrade entered the room a few hours later. Sherlock had not moved. "No, nothing has happened. He is still in a coma. I don't know what to do to change that, neither do the doctors."

"Did you call Harry?" Sherlock shook his head. "I cannot tell her that I couldn't save him."

"But he is alive. Sure you saved his life."

"Yes, I saved him to lead the life of a living dead." Sherlock looked at John. "If he never gains back consciousness it will be the same as if he had died." He closed his eyes and swallowed. "I've lost him either way."

"What is the prognosis?" Lestrade stepped forward to the still coated figure in the hospital chair. To him Sherlock looked absolutely lost.

"The next 48 hours will count. After that the hope that he will ever gain consciousness will fade with every hour." Sherlock turned his head to face Lestrade. "But they're still running tests. They tell me not to give up."

Lestrade swallowed. He had never seen the man so hopeless before. And for a short moment there was something else to see on the detectives face. It was guilt. Sherlock felt guilty for what had happened to John. Lestrade was surprised as he came to this conclusion. He had never thought that Sherlock could feel something like that. John Watson must have been much more than only a flatmate. Maybe he had brought out the human in Sherlock.

"The forensics are still working" Lestrade returned to business. "Iin the ruins of the building they have found the rests of the timer of the bomb and some remains from the explosives. The lab is working to find the handwriting of the bomber. We try to connect it to Moriarty but so far no success."

Sherlock said nothing because there was nothing to say. After a few seconds he turned his head again to watch John. Lestrade felt pity for the man in the chair. He hoped that John Watson would return soon. He shifted from foot to foot. Five minutes later he left.

In the afternoon Sherlock was still sitting in his chair. He had not left the room. Eyes transfixed on the man lying in the bed. Every now and then a nurse entered to check John's vitals.

As it grew dark outside John began to move in his bed. The heart-monitor showed increasing blood pressure and pulse frequency. Sherlock immediately called for the nurse and doctor. They ordered him out of the room.

The last thing he saw before the door closed was John. He had opened his eyes.