A Seemingly Endless Sleep

Author Note: So... Hey guys it's been a VERY VERY VERY long time and as such I have sort of lost my mojo and I have forgotten where I was going with the majority of my stories.

Please don't hurt me.

However, my absence means that I may have got all A's and A*'s in my 12 GCSE's so yay!

However, I'm now back and I'm going to write a little less than I used to and not have regular update dates for a while because I have a busy summer.

I now have a job. I'm a sexy –who am I kidding here? XD- bar maid at a pub and I have a very unbalanced work schedule.

I have my mum's wedding on the 31st of July yay!

I have the wedding party on the 9th of August!

I have my dad's wedding on the 16th of August!

I have my results day –which I can't get to because I'm packing for a festival- on the 21st I think...

I then have a festival from the Thursday 21st until the Tuesday.

Then I finally get home and I have to go shopping with my sister for Cosplay because we do a charity thing at my new sixth form college and I'm going as Sherlock. Purple shirt of sex is required!

So, as you can see, I am very busy and with my new sixth form in September everything is a bit hectic. I'm also RPing a butt load so meh.

Anywho, enough whittling –do you like my stake?- because I'm sure you want to get to the chapter. I really hope that it isn't too crappy. It has been a while so bear with, the chapters should get better. I love you all so much and I hope that you enjoy!

P.S. If you got my stake thing then take a virtual cookie. If you laughed at it then you are seriously my new favourite person. XD

Chapter 2 – The Black Hole

"He's in a coma," the doctor muttered to Lestrade as he peered at Sherlock, "We aren't sure when or if he is going to wake up but it isn't going to be anytime soon. The bullet grazed the heart and to be completely honest it is a miracle that he has even lasted this long. I can't really say more than sorry because the chances are... he's going to die before he has the chance to wake up. I'm sorry that we couldn't tell you sooner. We had to be sure of the facts."

With that she walked away and left Greg in silence. Doctors were cold it seemed but after having to apologise to so many families, friends, loved ones... it must become like clockwork.

He would be the one to tell Sherlock the news because he hadn't let anyone talk to him.

Every nurse on the ward had tried and no one was getting through to him and Greg knew that was going to happen. He wasn't even sure that he was going to acknowledge his existence when he went to talk.

He wasn't sleeping; he wasn't eating and while he managed to last for longer than the average human on normal days it was getting to the point that he was blanking out blocks of some days at a time and it was worrying Greg to no end.

Sherlock was beginning to lose touch with the world, not seeing any good or any light as he used to when John was around. It was as if he was living in the centre of a black hole: no light got in and no light got out because light simply didn't exist.

John was the only person that could have helped Sherlock right now but he was the person causing him so much pain. The irony was bitter and heartless.

OoO

Greg knocked gently on the door before entering.

Sherlock was wearing the same clothes as he had on the day that John was shot a week ago and a half ago. His burgundy shirt was wrinkled at the front because of the continuously hunched position he sat in, staring at the unmoving face of John every single day. His suit trousers were stained green from his climb up the tree just outside John's window, that he made every night after visiting hours. His coat and scarf were hung over the back of the spare chair in the corner of the room with John's coat positioned over it.

His hair was greasy and unkempt as it flopped hopelessly in his face. He hadn't moved it as he would normally. What was the point? His face was thin and his eyes sunken but still trained on John's closed ones just willing them to open. Of course, they never did.

Lestrade cleared his throat before speaking softly, "Sherlock. I have some news from the doctors."

No reply.

"John's in a coma-"

"I can see that," Sherlock spoke for the first time in a long time. His voice was sandpaper.

"Well, yes, the bullet grazed his heart and they... they don't know when or whether he'll ever wake up..." Greg finished watching Sherlock carefully for any movement.

For the longest time everything seemed to stop as Lestrade watched him carefully waiting for some sort of reaction, any reaction. He'd at least expected a tear but for a moment it looked as if nothing was going to happen.

Until he exploded.

A bedside lamp flew across the room before the deathly sound of both wall and hand cracking rang through the air. Everything had become too much and Sherlock couldn't take it. He'd come in everyday since the accident and looked at his friend laying still, near death and it had been slowly digging a hole too big to fill. He had to break something and it didn't matter what or how much it would hurt because nothing could hurt more than the loss of his friend.

He hit his fist to the wall over and over and over until he was pulled away by Lestrade's strong arms. His hands were broken down the side and blood meandered over them and down his arms. He couldn't shed a tear for himself because they had all formed a river at the side of John.

"You have to calm down Sherlock!" Greg shouted as he held him back from inflicting more damage on himself.

Sherlock was stronger even without nutrition and he pulled away.

"How am I supposed to stay calm?!" he yelled, "John is in a coma and he might not wake up ever! He is the only person that I have ever loved and he is laid on a bed dying and there isn't a single thing I can do about it! Tell me how I'm supposed to stay calm!"

Silence drifted by as Greg looked at Sherlock. The self diagnosed 'high functioning sociopath' had just admitted love.

"I had no idea-"

"I thought it was obvious, even to you. Dilated pupils; unnecessary physical contact; I watch him walk across rooms Lestrade..." he muttered, his voice slowly dwindling as he lowered himself back into the chair, "I don't know how it happened and I know that he could never possibly feel the same way but I... fell, for lack of a better term, in love with John Hamish Watson."

Greg stood looking at the detective blankly as he tried to straighten his clearly broken hands. He didn't know what to say so he moved over to help him. Sherlock probably knew exactly what he was doing and he didn't need the disruption now. He was angry and confused and hurting and Greg could see that.

"I need a nurse now..." Sherlock muttered softly after he had calmed down.

Lestrade nodded and stood before walking out of the door.

Sherlock turned back to John and rested his blood soaked hands on his lap before muttering, "I'm so sorry John. You'll be awake soon. I'm sorry."

Author Note: So that was chapter two! What do you think? Please leave a comment because I have missed all of my readers so much!

I want to thank: RainyDays-and-DayDreams and Joban for the lovely reviews from all those months ago. I really hope that you enjoyed this chapter!

For now, Au revoir! I shall message you next time, whenever next time is. xx