Lestrade dropped John off at the hospital on his way to the station. After checking in with the ER, John settled down in the waiting room. He knew it would be a long wait, with Sherlock it usually was. He got his phone from his jacket pocket and texted Mary.

Found Sherlock waiting at hospital again

I'm relieved. How is he?

Don't know yet, waiting.

Do you need me?

No. Just waiting. Will let you know.

I love you.

I love you too.

Mary was ready to go into labor any day. She and John were still working on patching up their marriage after the incident last year with Magnussen and Sherlock. Every day was a challenge for John to forgive, however things between them were better. Sherlock had been fairly healthy up to now, he had healed well after the blood loss and shock that he had suffered. They had been working on cases for Mycroft. Mycroft. He would need to be notified if he didn't already know of Sherlock's condition. John decided it could wait until he found out more.

He had nodded off when one of the nurses gently shook his shoulder, waking him.

"Come with me. You can see him now. Doctor Hillcrest is waiting on you."

John thanked her and smiled, quietly following her down the hall toward the Intensive Care Trauma Unit. Doctor Hillcrest was John's age, American. He was tall and lean, greying hair like John's own. He was dressed in the green scrubs of the unit and a lab coat. John noticed he had long, slim fingers like Sherlock's. He was waiting by the central desk.

He shook John's hand with a firm grip. "Dr. Watson. So good to meet you. Sorry about your friend, though. He's been through a lot of trauma in the past few days. Before you go in, I will discuss his injuries. I don't like to do that in front of a patient unless they are stable. Shock and all that.", he waved around his hand. "I'm sure you understand."

John nodded, "I do."

"The main focus right now is on his lung and breathing. His left lung was already injured by some broken ribs but the scalpel wound caused a massive hemothorax. He has in a chest tube for drainage but I want his lung to heal so it is still collapsed. His other lung is fine for now except he has probably aspirated fluids or food. He has overlying pneumonia that we will aggressively treat. He's on a ventilator and sedated so he can begin to heal. The fluids that were in his stomach, intestines and testicles are draining slowly and he will be swollen from that. Were you aware that his heart was out of rhythm?"

John nodded, running a hand thru his short hair, "Some kind of electric shock, I suppose."

Dr. Hillcrest nodded. "Yes. Mr. Holmes is in sinus rhythm now. He has severe electrolyte imbalances to treat."

John nodded, taking the information in. "What about drugs? I saw the woman there giving him something in a syringe. Have you done a toxicology screen?"

Nodding, Dr. Hillcrest continued, flipping thru Sherlock's chart to the lab section. "He tested positive for opiates, benzodiazepines and cocaine. More than likely they were keeping him doped so they could get him to cooperate with them. He has a few old needle track scars along with fresh ones. Do you know if he used before?"

John sighed, "Yes, in the distant past. Heroin I think."

"I'm still concerned about his drug levels. We gave him an agonist to counter the effects of the opiates. She must have overdosed him when you saw him being injected. That was when he stopped breathing, right?"

John nodded.

"I'm keeping a check on his kidney and liver function too. Overdose is hard on the body. The effects can linger in the organs. His bladder and kidneys were filled with saline at one point also. His urinary system is very irritated. The skin on his back has been cleaned and dressed. He is lucky you found him when you did."

"Thank you Dr." John shook his hand before entering Sherlock's room across from the desk.

The lights in the room were dim making it difficult to make out details in Sherlock's still form. He was pale like the white sheets that he lay upon. A light blue hospital gown covered him. He was hooked to a ventilator to breathe for him, a soft holder secured the endotracheal tube in his mouth. There was a larger tube in his nose now draining bloody fluid from his stomach. Below the left side of the bed hung the dark bloody drainage from his lung and another for his urine. John knew that under the blankets and gown were a mess of tubes and wires holding down Sherlock's body.

As John made his way to Sherlock's bedside, he heard the soft hiss of anti-thrombolytic pumps wrapped around Sherlock's slender legs. With all the injuries he had he didn't need a blood clot working its way around to his heart or lungs. Multiple medications pumped into his body through a central line in his neck. Many overhead monitors ran numbers that showed the state of Sherlock's bodily functions. A blood pressure cuff was wrapped around his right upper arm.

Looking closely, Sherlock's hands and fingers were slightly swollen with fluid overload as was his belly. His face was puffy around his eyes and neck.

"Oh, Sherlock. Look at you back in hospital again." John gently took Sherlock's slightly cool hand and rubbed it between his warm ones. Still in shock, he noted. His arms were bruised up and down veins where they had injected drugs. He felt disgusted that another human being could treat someone so cruelly for their own pleasure.

John felt his phone vibrate in a message.

Find Sherlock?

Yes. How did you know where to look?

A web link appeared and John opened it to see a bid site that was advertising the sale of organs and semen from Sherlock Holmes. Of course, their business was shut down now.

Is he ok?

John hesitated to answer but felt she probably knew he had been in serious trouble. He texted back.

No. He's resting.

John waited for a reply. None came. He thought as much it being the mysterious Irene Adler. He smiled slightly at the thought. The only person who could best Sherlock Holmes.