Author's Note:

Despite everything, like how this chapter turned out. My thanks to those who have been leaving reviews!

Sherlock didn't wake up right away. They took him to a room to get an MRI and then returned him to the room John was waiting in. Sherlock groaned as a nurse attempted to wake him up again. Christ his head hurt. Yacht. Sand bar. Fuck. Right. He had hit his head. Everything was fuzzy after that. Where was he now? A hospital? "I will be fine. Just…no drugs. For the love God, don't give me anything for the pain." John. Was his husband okay? He searched the room frantically for the other man.

That...was definitely his husband. John's head shot up and he shot from his chair. "No drugs," he said almost instantly. "He is recovering. No drugs," he said as he moved to face Sherlock. "Oh, God, are you alright?" He framed his husband's face with his hands, struggling to keep himself calm. "Sherlock." He closed his eyes for a long moment and smiled. "You sucked your thumb when you were younger?" He asked with a soft laugh as the nurse hooked him up to an IV.

"Just a saline solution to keep you hydrated," she said before turning and leaving.

Relief flooded him. "John, you are okay." Sherlock reached out a hand to stroke his husband's face. "I should be fine. I have a headache and pain medication would be wonderful which is why I shouldn't have it." He grimaced as he forced himself to sit up slightly. Suck his thumb? "Maybe. Probably. I don't know. Why?" He creased his brows in confusion at the strange question.

"You don't remember anything?" John smirked softly and placed a hand on his husband's chest. "You knocked yourself back into your childhood, Sherlock. I was so fucking scared." He closed his eyes and dropped his head for a moment. "You sucked your thumb, told me you were a pirate." He couldn't help the small chuckle that escaped his chest. "Told the paramedics they were pirates." He opened his eyes and smiled softly. "But you are back."

"That…was real? I thought it had been some sort of crazy dream…I remember fragments but not everything fully." Sherlock moved his hand to John's hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. "I'm sorry. I should have been paying attention while I was steering the yacht. It was a stupid, rookie mistake. I didn't mean to worry you. How long have I been at the hospital?"

"Not very long," John replied softly, a smile still plastered on his face. "But yeah, all real." He leaned forward and gently met Sherlock's lips, not caring who saw. For a moment Sherlock hadn't known that John was his husband and it had twisted his stomach horribly. "It is fine," he whispered against his husband's lips. "It's fine," he repeated with a small sigh. He laughed and opened his eyes. "I should probably call your Mum. She is worried."

"Do you think they will let me leave soon? I am so tired of hospitals and we are supposed to be on our honeymoon…" Sherlock was angry with himself now and he slunk back down into the bed with a pout. His mother. Hadn't he talked to her on the phone? It was hard to try and remember. He nodded his at John, though he was thinking furiously, losing himself in his own thoughts.

John watched Sherlock for a moment and frowned. He didn't want to tell him that they would probably be here over night because it was a head injury. "Want me to snuggle with you?" He didn't wait for an answer as he climbed on to the bed, pulling Sherlock's head against his chest as he ran a hand through his hair. "Calm down. It is fine," he whispered as he placed a kiss in his husband's unruly curls. "You are fine."

Sherlock snuggled into John immediately. "You're a doctor. Can't you convince you will watch me?" The last thing he wanted to do was spend the night in a hospital. "I owe you a pizza still and a lot of sex." He gave his husband a slight smirk. "I'm sorry that I have made a mess of things but I promise, I'll spend the rest of the honeymoon making it up to you."

"God, pizza and a lot of sex." John laughed and tugged his husband closer. "It's fine, Sherlock. Stuff like this happens. We just... got a bit of bad luck. A lot of it." He licked his lips and shrugged. "I am fine, alright? And you will be better. We'll just continue the honeymoon the way we have been." He lifted Sherlock's head slightly and gave him a soft kiss, smiling against his husband's lips. "I love you."

Sherlock smirked faintly at John's words. He returned the kiss gently. "Love you too." He paused before asking, "Do you think it is safe for me to sleep? I have got one hell of a head ache and with the refusal of the pain medication I am hoping that maybe I can sleep it off." He shifted slightly, so he could snuggle closer to his husband even more.

John bit his bottom lip and frowned slightly at his husband. "I don't think so. You took a nasty hit, Sherlock." He gave his husband another quick kiss. "Here, sit up a bit." He shifted and put his fingers at his husband's temples, rubbing soft circles. It had worked in Afghanistan, why not work now? He closed his eyes and relaxed, hoping it would rub off on Sherlock. "We can stay up. Talk about little things. Just don't sleep."

Sherlock frowned but nodded anyway. He relaxed into John's touch. It felt wonderful. "I know you are trying to help my dear doctor and you are but this may relax me to the point of falling asleep anyway." He moved his head so he could smirk up at his husband.

"Fall asleep and I will pinch the back of your arm," John threatened with a laugh. He moved his hands away slowly and placed a soft kiss on the tip of Sherlock's nose. "I think the paramedic was judging me," he whispered as he grabbed one of his husband's hands and laced their fingers together. "Because the cabin reeked of grape lube," he said with a small giggle as a blush spread across his cheeks.

"Are you sure it wasn't because of the stains all over the bed sheets?" Sherlock smirked up at his husband once more. He was quiet a thoughtful moment after that and when he spoke again his tone was serious. "John, can we talk?" Maybe now wasn't the best time but there had been a few things he had wanted to discuss with his husband but John had said he should try and stay awake by talking so might as well do it now.

Those words were almost never good. John tried to hide the fear on his face but he knew he was pale now. God, what could it be? Was Sherlock regretting this? Did he want out? "Yeah, of course," he finally said, noticing the slight tremor in his voice. Calm. Deep breaths. Everything would be fine.

Sherlock hesitated for a moment, when he noticed John's body language and tone of voice. "We don't have to. It doesn't matter, not really…" He trailed off with a shrug. It wasn't important he supposed but he had promised his husband to work on communication and that was he had been trying to do. To talk about things.

John's eyes opened instantly. "No, Sherlock, we agreed to talk and communicate. Go on." He managed a warm smile in his husband's direction. Sherlock was making an effort, and he couldn't ruin that. "You are fine. Talk to me." He moved his free hand up to rest gently on Sherlock's cheek.

Sherlock nodded but he was quiet for awhile. "I don't know. I was just thinking about how I grew up and I just don't want little Sandi to have to go through that too. I have my father's temper. I don't want to be him." He paused and then admitted quietly, "John, I'm scared." He curled into his husband a bit, his head snuggling into John's chest.

Oh. Oh. John looked down at his husband with wide eyes and instantly tightened his embrace. "You aren't him," he said softly into Sherlock's hair. "Oh, God... Sherlock, you are far from him. Look at how well you have done so far with Amy." He started gently scratching the back of Sherlock's neck. "Sherlock, you are going to be fine. You've already made a wonderful father for her. That night at your Mum's? Remember that? You got up in the middle of the night and fed her, played with that blasted lamp and took her on a walk in the garden. Would your father do that for you?"

Sherlock took a deep breath, dreading what he was going to say next. "John, when you were kidnapped in Afghanistan. I was stressed. Little Sandi was crying and I got angry. I wanted to shake her so hard to make it stop. I didn't but God I wanted to. What if next time, I don't stop myself?" Would his husband hate him now? Trust him with Amy ever again?

John closed his eyes for a long moment and pulled his husband closer without a second thought. "I trust you," he whispered shakily. God, he never wanted to hear that. "Sherlock, you know right from wrong and you stopped yourself. I know that you would never do that." Or at least he hoped. Prayed. Sherlock had known when to stop when things got too rough with them, shouldn't it apply to their daughter? "I know you love her, Sherlock. The last few times she has been crying you have known exactly what to do." What else did he say? All he knew was he needed to comfort his husband.

Sherlock didn't have anything else to say now. He just curled into John in silence, arms wrapping around his husband in a tight hug. He held onto his partner like that for awhile before releasing John. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have told you, but I thought…you had a right to know what you were getting into with me…"

John studied Sherlock and finally had to look away. "It isn't fair to you," he whispered. "It never was. I was a jerk and... slept with Sarah. Sherlock, I got you into this. And you stepped up and took Amy in like she was your own. I am not getting into anything with you because it was all me. It was me being selfish and assuming that you would want to do all of this." He hesitantly met his husband's gaze. "And you're doing so fantastic. I couldn't have asked for a better parent for her."

Sherlock gave John another hug. "It's fine. We're fine. We will be fine." He had to believe that. They had come so far after everything that had happened to them. "Like all the other stuff, we will get through it together." He gave his husband a smile and relaxed into the body next to him. He intertwined their fingers and he gave John's hand a gentle squeeze.

John pulled his bottom lip between his teeth and chewed on it. "I know," he whispered, returning the squeeze. "We will. Sherlock, we have already made it through so much. Raising a kid...we can do this." He managed a weak smile and let his eyes close. "We are going to raise her the best we can. It is the least we can do. And honestly?" He opened his eyes again and grinned. "She has got the best Papa ever. Look at you." He pulled Sherlock closer. "You're the perfect father."

Sherlock couldn't help but smirk up at John. "Well, I am perfect and amazing it already. So why not being a father?" Cocky and confident. That was something he could do. He wasn't used to feeling scared and he didn't like it. Going back to what was normal brought him comfort. "We will be the best damn fathers ever."

John laughed and tugged his husband closer with a foolish grin. "Yeah, exactly. Everybody is going to be jealous of Amy," he said with another loud laugh. "And she is going to be the most adorable little girl on the face of the planet." He paused and pressed the tip of his nose against Sherlock's. "And, I imagine, the most spoiled. Ever." He gave his husband a quick kiss. "I am proud of you."

Sherlock smirked at John once more. "Of course you are. I'm the perfect husband and father." He rolled so he could straddle his husband. "Love you," he whispered as he leaned down to kiss John on the lips gently. He continued the kiss, enjoying the slow pace of it. His fingers ran along his husband's sides, brushing the fabric lightly.

John didn't force the issue or tell his husband that he should be laying down. He simply opened his mouth to his husband's advances, arching slightly off the bed at his touch. He moved the cord to the I-V slightly so it wouldn't be in the way and moaned. "Love you, too," he whispered as he pulled away slightly to catch a breath before quickly moving to kiss Sherlock again.

Sherlock had forgotten about the I-V hooked up to him until John moved it. He smirked down at his husband. "Want to shag in a hospital again?" He asked behind the second kiss. He moved his lips to John's ear where he began to lick and nibble. He wanted his husband now and he pressed his body tightly into the man below him.

At some point John had a feeling that his husband had cataloged every little thing that made him gasp and squirm and beg for more. He moaned slightly and pressed into Sherlock in return, nodding a bit. "Yes," he whimpered, ending it in a gasp. "Oh God, yes." His hands moved instantly to Sherlock's shoulder blades, scratching slightly. Of course they would shag in a hospital. They always ended up here, it was only natural.

Sherlock smirked, pleased. He growled in excitement from the scratching. "Need something," he whispered into John's ear. He wanted, needed this to happen. He moved his lips to his husband's neck and began to suck and bite. He writhed into the man below him roughly, moaning into John's neck with desire.

"Good thing we are in a hospital," John said sarcastically. "Oi, let me up. I will find something." He glanced at his husband for a moment. "Are you are the receiving end this time? Because there is no need for you to be so pushy if you are," he said with a proud smile. Shit, was Sherlock even ready to do something so demanding? He knew he was because his erection was pressing eagerly against the moving body above him.

Sherlock was a bit surprised by John's erection, since his husband had already gotten off twice today. This would be good. "Can't wait for you to be inside of me," he whispered. He would even beg. John always liked that. "Please?" He rolled off his husband so John could get some kind of lubrication for them to use.

John moaned at Sherlock's words and slid off the bed with a small stumble. "Right." He moved toward the small sink on the opposite side of the room, searching the cabinets with one hand while he undid his jeans with the other. He returned the bed with three small packets of Vaseline. "God bless hospitals," he said with a grin as he moved back on the bed, laying on his back. "Easier this way for you." He grunted as he yanked his jeans down to his knees, dropped the Vaseline packets on the bed, and yanked at his husband's hips to straddle him again.

Sherlock fumbled with his pants in excitement but had them down by the time John returned to the bed. He straddled his husband once more. He bent down to kiss on John's ear yet again. "Want you. Please," he begged again. "Love when you are inside." He nibbled on his husband's ear lightly, rocking his body into the man below him with earnest.

Sherlock talking alone could get him off. "Jesus." John moved one hand to hold his husband's hips still with a soft moan. He used his other hand to bring a packet of Vaseline to his teeth, ripping it open. "Don't move," he said with a pant. "Want me to last, don't you?" His hand moved slowly from Sherlock's hip and he got Vaseline on his fingers, moving to slowly work two into his husband. "God, yes, you feel great." He closed his eyes and slammed his head back on the mattress.

Sherlock complied with John's request and settled for nestling his head near his husband's. "Sorry, get excited easily." He turned his head to smirk at John. As soon as he felt his husband's fingers enter he moaned into the sheets. Probably should be a little quieter. He didn't want a hospital staffer to come and stop them. "Love you inside me," he whispered into John's ear again and then nipped lightly at the lobe. He brought a hand up to run through his husband's hair lightly, the other tangled in the sheets below them.

John smiled as Sherlock spoke, keeping his eyes closed at his husband's hand in his hair. He turned his head to gently meet Sherlock's lips. "Can't wait to shag you," his hips lifted slightly in emphasis and tugged his husband's bottom lip between his teeth. "Shit," he gasped and started to move his fingers faster.

Sherlock returned the kiss and then whimpered into the sheets, biting down into them to prevent his noises from being heard outside the room. It wasn't that he was suddenly modest, he just didn't want any interruptions. "Feels good. Want you. Please." He turned his head to whisper in his husband's ear. He kissed along John's neck lightly, the hand in his husband's hair following the trail of his mouth softly.

The begging was what drove John. Hearing Sherlock ask something of him so desperately turned him on. He pulled his fingers out and opened the second pack if Vaseline, smearing it into his hand and reaching between them to stroke his cock. After he was ready, he grabbed Sherlock's hips, meeting his husband's lips as he lifted his hips and slowly entered Sherlock.

Sherlock moaned into John's mouth when he felt his husband enter him. "God yes," he murmured behind the kiss. His eyes closed in contentment, his fingers curling into the sheets a little tighter. "Love you, love this." He knew John liked it when he talked when they made love like this. He opened his eyes so he could look down at his husband, his hand still trailing along John's face lightly.

John opened his mouth, looking up at his husband through hooded eyes as he started a gentle rhythm. Why couldn't he think of anything to say? He turned his head to place a soft kiss on his husband's palm, moaning into it as loud as he dared so they wouldn't get caught. "L-Love you, too," he gasped out, turning his head to hold Sherlock's gaze. This was obviously more than just a shag. They had shared an emotionally charged conversation and here they were. "God, you feel fucking wonderful."

Sherlock matched John's slow tempo with ease. He leaned down and began showering his husband's neck with small, gentle kisses again. His hand moved back up to John's head, scratching at the bristles lightly. After having been rough the last few times, this was a nice change of pace. "This is amazing. You are amazing," he whispered into John's neck as he continued the tender kissing.

John turned his head, moaning against Sherlock's temple. "You need to tell me..." His hips hitched up and he stilled for a moment, inhaling loudly before he slowly started moving again. "I-If you need to stop." He moved a hand to rest on the small of his husband's back, scratching at it gently. After several more thrusts he stilled, moving a hand to lift Sherlock's head up. "I love you and I hope you know that." He managed a lop-sided smile. "And I'm going to spend the rest of my life with you." He gently kissed his husband as his hips started to move again.

Stop? Why would he want to stop? Okay, sure he had a concussion and his head was pounding but everything else was feeling so wonderful. It was almost enough to make him forget he had to spend a day in the hospital on his honeymoon. "...'sfine..." Sherlock gave John a reassuring smile and returned the kiss, nipping lightly at his husband's bottom lip.

Fine. It was fine. John moaned into Sherlock's mouth and slowed his pace slightly. He needed to make sure his husband was still alright, wasn't about to pass out on him. "I love you," he whispered as his hand massaged the muscles at his husband's lower back. "Ah, fuck, Sherlock," his voice was a bit higher than he intended and he blushed.

"Love you too," Sherlock replied as smiled down at John. His hand caressed his husband's cheek, as he continued to match the pace set by the man below him. His smile turned into a smirk when John blushed. Despite how shy his husband was about others being around when they shagged, they sure did do it a lot in public places lately.

John pressed his cheek into his husband's hand, breathing hard to try and force back his moans. "Ah, Sh-" He hissed and moved his hands to Sherlock's hips, bringing his husband down roughly against him as he came. It was sudden but he knew it wouldn't last very long. It had been a long day for him. "God, oh God." He swallowed hard and moved a hand to grab Sherlock's penis, stroking it with quick, tight movements.

Sherlock bit down into the pillow below John's head, to muffle the loud moan that was issued from his husband's final thrust. He moaned some more when the man below him grabbed his cock. "John…" He rocked his body in time with his husband's hand. His hand on John's face dropped to the mattress to tangle in the sheets.

Shit, John should have pulled out of Sherlock because each movement his husband made into his hand was tugging at his over-sensitive cock. His hand slowed down to alleviate Sherlock's movements, soft grunts escaping his chest as he tried to quiet himself. "C'mon, Sherlock. Want to see you come," he whispered. When had he started talking like that?

Sherlock didn't last too long and he came with another moan into the pillow. He collapsed slightly to one side of John, breathing heavily. Good thing he wasn't hooked up to a heart monitor because it would have given them away long ago. He closed his eyes. Shit. He was tired, but he wasn't allowed to sleep yet. He tried to think of something to distract his weariness but he was losing the battle to stay awake.

John dropped his hand to his side and cleaned it off on the sheets. "Hey, c'mon, wake up." He rolled slightly to the side and gently met his husband's lips. "Just a few more hours and then you can sleep for the nigh." He lifted his clean hand to run through Sherlock's hair. "Sherlock," he whispered as he pressed their noses together.

"Trying," Sherlock muttered but his eyes didn't open. He leaned into John's hand with a murmur of approval. It was relaxing. "As much as I love the feel of your hand in my hair, it isn't really helping me stay awake." He smirked a bit at his husband. He managed to crack an eye open to look at John. "Tell me another story." He shifted a bit so he could nuzzle his head into his husband's shoulder.

John gently moved his hand from Sherlock's hair, smiling down at him warmly. "I am horrid at stories, Sherlock." He laughed and shifted to run his hand gently up and down his husband's arm. "One day pirate Sherlock and John found a kitten on their pirate ship and decided to turn her into a pirate," he whispered into Sherlock's ear. "And the cat got into all of their food and ate it." He paused and bit his bottom lip, trying to decided to go with his story.

Sherlock wrapped both his arms around John's one arm, and snuggled into the shoulder even more. So comfortable. No sleeping. Pay attention to the story, to his husband's words. "A pirate kitten?" He couldn't help but smirk faintly at the thought. "Does the pirate kitten have a name? Better yet, an eye patch?" He couldn't help but laugh a little.

"Of course she has an eye patch," John whispered with a laugh of his own. "And her name is... Janet. Pirate John named her after his mother. And Janet helped Pirate Sherlock around the boat." He placed a kiss on his husband's forehead. "And one day Pirate Sherlock got scared because he found a mouse on board and Janet saved him by attacking the mouse."

Sherlock snorted. "Pirate Sherlock was afraid of a mouse? Some pirate he must have turned out to be," he commented with a wry smirk. Damn it. It was getting harder and harder to stay awake. "Maybe I should get up and walk around. Snuggling like this is making it difficult." He didn't want to get up though. "Tired." He wasn't trying to whine but shit his head felt like someone had taken a hammer to it and sleep seemed to be the only thing that would make it go away.

"Let's do that," John said with a nod, sliding out of the bed and moving around to help Sherlock to his feet. "Pirate Sherlock was a fantastic pirate but mice can be scary," he said as they started pacing the hospital room. "How does your head feel?" He studied Sherlock intently. Clearly his husband was in pain, trying to hide it. "I can get you something that will keep you awake."

Fuck. Sherlock regretted suggesting getting out of bed. His eyes opened and he got up with John's help. "I am fine." He gave his husband a small smile of reassurance. "It hurts a little but no big deal. I've had a concussion before." He gave a slight shrug, grimacing when it agitated the wound on his head.

"I know but this is a bit more than a concussion, Sherlock." John slowed down and held on to his husband a little tighter. "You smashed your head and reverted back to a child-like state. Obviously a bit worrying." He placed a gentle kiss on Sherlock's cheek as they continued to walk. "I think we will have to keep some ice on it when we are back at the beach house."

"Why do you think that is? I mean it can't be common reoccurrence, is it? I have never heard or read anything about it before." Sherlock walked along with John. He hadn't realized how much he was leaning into his husband for support until he felt their shoulders brush against each other. He hated being like this. Not even their honeymoon could go right it would seem.

"I don't know," John replied honestly. "Perhaps you have a bit of a knack for getting odd head injuries after losing your memory when I was in Afghanistan." He smiled up at Sherlock reassuringly. "You are fine. You've got this." He rubbed his fingers gently at his husband's side, scratching against his ribs. "This is fine." He turned them as they started the trek to the other side of the room. "Just being with you is enough."

"I guess. I really thought it had been some weird dream. And when I came to at the hospital it was like I was waking up from it." Sherlock continued to follow his husband around the room. At this point, he was wishing he had accepted the pain killers but he couldn't risk it. John had already had to deal with his drug withdrawals and he wasn't going to make his husband endure that ever again. Especially not on their honeymoon.

"You will need to call your Mum at some point," John replied softly as he led Sherlock back to the bed, moving him to sit down. "Do you want me to see if you can sleep for a little? I am sure they can monitor you, let you sleep." He studied his husband nervously. This wasn't good, he was in pain and John could barely stand it. "Is that alright with you?"

Ugh. Sherlock didn't want to have to talk to his mother right now. "Would it be all right if I call her tomorrow?" Yes. Sleep would be glorious. "Please. God, I have never wanted to sleep so badly before in my life." He gave John a slight smirk, trying to reassure his husband. He made his way back over to the bed and climbed under the covers.

"I'll call her for you," John said with a laugh, moving to grab a nurse and talk to her. He returned quickly. "Alright, off to sleep with you," he muttered, placing a kiss on his forehead. "You are fine for the next two hours and then I will wake you up." After a warm smile he moved into the main area outside of his husband's room. "Um, the number for the... Holmes?" She smiled and handed him a phone that was already ringing.

Sherlock smiled at John. Good. Sleep. As soon as his eyes closed he fell asleep. Sleep would let him find a place where there was no pounding pain in his head.