John

"St. Bartholomew's Hospital, please." Sherlock said curtly as he, Lestrade and I ducked back into the taxi.

The taxi driver peered incredulously over his shoulder at the three of us wedged in the back and raised an eyebrow.

"Please," Sherlock implored him thickly through his already swelling lip, "One of these men has been shot and has had a panic attack, the other had broken ribs and we all have facial wounds from hand- to – hand combat, some of which may require stiches."

"Sorry, mate, I could lose my job… this looks pretty dodgy to me…"

"I thought that might not convince you so I also have this," Sherlock fanned a handful of paper money under the taxi driver's nose, "and the knowledge that you are moonlighting for an illegal taxi firm aside from this one. I could easily tell that to your boss if you don't take us to the hospital in which case you'll be fired anyway…"

"Alright, alright. Whatever you say."

"So, what happened to you before we arrived?" I asked Lestrade as the cab began its journey.

"Well, I got into the warehouse, everyone sort of surrounded me, took me to an upstairs room and hung me up by the wrists and then they all left me for a minute- that was when I phoned you- then they started hitting me and kicking me and then, well, I must've lost consciousness, the next thing I remember is you being there. I'm sorry, I wasn't able to find anything out…"

"I'm not surprised." Sherlock said, he wasn't being sympathetic, he was being rude and Lestrade and I ignored him, "Don't worry, though, I managed to pick up some clues."

I hoped we'd reach St. Bart's soon; Lestrade was obviously in pain, wincing every time we went over a speed bump or pothole and my arm was an ebbing and flowing stream of constant pain and blood. I felt light headed, I kept trying to focus on the conversation between Lestrade and Sherlock but I couldn't stop my eyelids drooping and my head nodding; I could feel my fingers, slippery with blood, loosening their grip on my wound.

"John?" I felt a sharp pain as Lestrade dug me in the rips with his elbow.

I snapped my eyes open and jerked my head up.

"We're nearly there," Sherlock said, "You two just stay awake. Keep talking… erm… what did you do last night?"

The experiences I had just been through had evidently driven me to recklessness and insanity because I turned my head to face Sherlock's, held his intense gaze and allowed myself to be filled with the warmth of true love, "I kissed Sherlock Holmes."

Sherlock's mouth slowly turned up at one side, stretching his lopsided smile across his cheek.

Lestrade blushed and swivelled his head to look at me, then Sherlock, me then Sherlock, me and Sherlock, me, Sherlock, me, Sherlock, mesherlock, Sherlock and john johnandsherlock… what was the difference? "Wait…" Lestrade said, "So… you two… are you… are you, um, well… I suppose you are, aren't you?... are you…? John? I'd never have thought that of you, of all people…"

"You learn something new every day." Sherlock stated.

Sherlock

After twenty-two seconds of silence the cabbie pulled into the hospital car park. I presented him with about two-thirds of the wad of cash I'd shown him earlier and told him to wait. Turning my collar up against the morning's biting wind I watched John and Lestrade totter out of the car, clinging onto each other so they didn't fall over. I offered John my arm which he took and held as we entered the hospital, held together as a three. John and Lestrade checked themselves in, I was pretty confident they could look after themselves for a few minutes so I headed down to the morgue to see Molly.

She had been up all night working and keeping herself awake throughout the morning with repeated mugs of coffee. She had not been sleeping in her own for the two nights prior to the previous one. It was eleven seconds before she looked up from the corpse she was examining as saw me, reeling backwards and crashing into the metal trolley on which the body was placed.

"Sherlock!" She gasped, checking her reflection in a silver tray of scalpels, "You shocked me."

"Yes." I couldn't think of anything else to say.

"So…" Molly encouraged, "was there anything you wanted?"

"Oh, " I searched my mind for the reason I'd come to see her and found none, which meant that a plausible one had never been there, "Just visiting." I finished lamely, that sounded like the thought of thing John would say. Oh, God, I was turning into an endearingly fractured, marginally irritating and completely clueless army doctor.

"Just visiting…" Molly echoed, "Just visiting me…?"

"Yes."

"That's nice, sorry, I'm not looking my best, I haven't had any sleep."

"I know, and you haven't slept at your house for the past two nights. Why is that?"

Mollie looked down and reddened. I realised I may have asked a personal question; I had learned from John that this can sometimes make the other person uncomfortable and that it is sometimes prudent to change the subject.

Before Molly could answer I said, "Anyway, I'm here because John and Lestrade have been injured so they're being seen to upstairs."

"Oh my goodness!" Molly said, grabbing my wrist and pulling me in the direction of the lift to rest of the hospital, "We must go and see them. Are they alright? I mean… what happened?"

I flapped my arms at her by way of useless explanation as we entered the lift, "This case we're working on at the moment…" Then I remembered, "Oh, by the way, there's a body in the warehouse we've just come from. German man, ran a brothel. Lestrade will no doubt get the body picked up and John and I will visit the brothel to pick up any evidence but this is another murder by the Moonblood Cult, who killed John's sister so when the police deliver that body here I want you to have a look at it and get back to me, okay?"

Molly blushed again, "Sure!" She said, "Sure, no problem!"

"Great." I tried to grin, then, but I don't know whether it worked.