Chapter 17

John sat in Sherlock's room that night, waiting for the detective to wake up. He had been knocked out by the meds and was sleeping well. His wrist had needed stitches, a cast, and is definitely going to leave more than a scar. John wasn't any better. The doctors had wanted him to stay in bed, but after he threatened them with a call to Mycroft they left him to do whatever. Now here he sat, waiting for his friend to open his eyes.

"How is he?" Lestrade asked, walking into the room and over towards the chair on the opposite side of John. John shook his head sadly, staring at the sleeping figure.

"Still not awake," he sighed. Lestrade gave him a reassuring smile, but John didn't want it. He wanted his friend to wake up. They were silent now. The only sound in the room was the beep of the machines hooked to Sherlock. Beep, beep, beep. Oh how John both loved and hated it. Yes, it was a sign that Sherlock was alive, but it was also a sign that Sherlock was in the hospital with death lingering by his bedside.

"John?" Lestrade asked. John glanced up at the DI. He was holding the case file in his hands tightly. "You said you weren't going to leave him again…what did you…" he trailed off. John had turned away from him and was now staring back at Sherlock with the dimmest eyes he had ever seen. He instantly felt sorry for asking.

"The tortures were too much for us," John began. "Our minds slipped away, sending us into some horrible dreamland where Sherlock was a patient at the asylum and I was his doctor." Lestrade watched as John's hands started trembling.

"He…he almost…"

"It's ok, John, we don't have to talk about this now," Lestrade whispered, lending John his hand. John pulled away from him, his body trembling violently.

"No, Lestrade! Can't you see? I almost lost him again! I doubted him and left him alone just like…just like with Moriarty!" Lestrade paled instantly. So that was what this was all about. Lestrade wanted to say that it wasn't John's fault or that everything was alright, but he knew better. This wasn't some fairy tale where everything turns out happy. This was real life and he would just be lying to the good doctor. Yes, it wasn't John's fault for what happened, but that isn't what John believes or ever will believe.

"John, mistakes happen all the time. Heck, everyone has made at least one. Beating yourself up over it won't help Sherlock, though. You need to be strong for him," Lestrade said, moving his hand back to John's. The good doctor looked at him with a thankful smile, taking his hand and then turned to Sherlock, who was moving in his sleep now.

"How did you find us?" John finally asked, breaking the dreadful silence. Lestrade looked down at his hands and shrugged casually.

"It was nothing really. We noticed you two were missing a day and a half after you were captured. We had Mycroft go through CCTV to try and find you. When we saw you two get in a cab headed toward that old Asylum it all pieced together."

"And it took you over ten days to find us?" John asked, raising a brow. Lestrade sighed deeply and ruffled back his hair.

"Well, you know how it is with Mycroft. The man wouldn't let us go in until we were positive we weren't going to put you two through anymore danger than you already have."

"Hmm…" They all looked over toward Sherlock as his head tossed and turned on the pillow. He was mumbling something unintelligible. John got up from his seat and pressed his hand on Sherlock's face, causing the detective to flinch. He then leaned in close to the detective's ear and began whispering softly. Lestrade watched as he did this, silent the entire time. Sherlock's hand was clutching the bed sheets in a death grip and his breathing was fast paced.

"Come on, Sherlock, wake up," John whispered, shaking the detective gently. Sherlock's head turned to the side, his eyes flickering open for a moment and then closed again tightly.

"No, no, not here," Sherlock mumbled as his eyes opened again; not really seeing around him.

"Lestrade, I need your help," John stated calmly, trying to hold down the detective. Lestrade held down Sherlock's arms as he struggled and John tapped Sherlock's cheek gently, trying to get the detective to focus on him.

"What's wrong with him?" Lestrade asked in shock by his friend's actions.

"Remembering," John stated simply. "Sherlock?" He tapped at the consultant's cheek, drawing the glazed over blue eyes to his.

"Dr…Dr. Watson…"

"No, Sherlock, it's John your friend; remember?" John called. The detective frowned at him, glancing around the room. John did the same and then whispered to him, "This is the hospital; not the asylum. You were hurt." Sherlock was still tense as he sat bolt upright now, trying to pull away from the two men. John's heart pounded in his chest. He had to calm Sherlock down, but how?

"I'm not falling for it! Not ever!" Sherlock screamed, winding a punch into Lestrade's jaw and sending him flying into the bedside table. Lestrade held his head in his hands, blinking away the fuzziness in his head from the smack. Sherlock pinned himself against the headrest of the bed now, eyes blazing with fiery hatred.

"Sherlock!" Sherlock's eyes flew to John's. He lifted his hands up to hit John, but John was faster. John grabbed Sherlock's wrists, careful with the one that was bandaged and held in a cast. He then pulled the startled detective into an embrace and whispered the same words he had said to Sherlock back at the asylum roof over and over again. "I believe in you." Sherlock's body un-tensed and his eyes scanned John tiredly.

"John," Sherlock said in realization. John nodded, brushing the sweaty curls from his friend's eyes as he turned to look at Lestrade as he pulled himself of the floor. "Lestrade," Sherlock added, still registering his surroundings. John watched as the detective slowly fell forward and grabbed at him before his head could hit anything. John held him for a moment as his breath evened out and he was once again asleep. Lestrade assisted John in tucking Sherlock back into his bed and then they both just stared at him. Lestrade shook his head.

"My God," gasped a voice from behind. Lestrade and John both turned around to see for once the startled face of the British Government himself.

Hey guys! I'm going to be leaving for SanDiego Comic Con next weak so you won't get your usual update on Thursday since I'll be gone. I will have enough time to post the next chapter on Monday, though so you guys have something to read for that week and don't have to wait two weeks just to see what happened. Sound Good?