Awareness came slowly like the trickle of molasses from a jar. This alone was all John needed to know something was wrong. Through years of military training he was programmed to wake quickly and completely. These days whether it was the alarm, a nightmare, or Sherlock he still woke swiftly. So it was bothersome that he could not seem to do so now.

He could hear sounds. Chimes and tones in the darkness enveloping him, muffled and garbled voices moving closer and further away but couldn't make out any words. No clues found that way. Gradually he became aware of the smells around him. The aroma of antiseptics, alcohol, and betadine were predominant with a faint underlying hint of blood. The puff of oxygen in his nostrils the last clue for John.

Hospital. But how and why he couldn't seem to recall. Another scent began to override all others in the room, a scent very close at hand. The scent reminiscent of tea and cigarettes, cinnamon and wool, chemicals and the London mist, a scent John knew intimately and craved desperately now for the comfort it offered…..Sherlock.

Sensation returned next as John became aware of the cool sheets and pillows beneath him and the coarse blanket under his fingers covering his lower body. The occasional brush of cool fingers or soft lips against his forehead and temple; soft curls against his jaw and the pressure of a head against his right shoulder. Sherlock again, in his mental landscape John smiled at the knowledge. He also felt the tight pull of a dressing or something around his torso and the dull itch of wounds healing on his face, arms, even abdomen. What had happened to him? With the return of sensation came the awareness of pain and an undefined sense of emptiness. His head was one big throbbing ache and he hurt all over. Briefly attempting to take a deeper breath shot sharp pain across his chest. Concussion and fractured ribs his mind supplied? Beating by criminals? Kidnapping? What was it this time?

John was unaware that his attempts at unconscious self assessment had caused him to moan softly when the ribs made their status known. But he could just as well have screamed for the close eye Sherlock was keeping on him.

"John…?"

John struggled to reply but couldn't get his words out, his lips dry and tongue thick with disuse. "Mmm…..Shrrr…"

"I'm here John! I'm right here!"

A cool palm cupped John's face and he hummed at the touch of a thumb softly crossing his lips.

"Please wake up love….please….for me?!"

Sherlock's voice sounded soft…..so very tired and uncertain. John wondered how long he had been out and concentrated on opening his heavy eyelids. At least the lighting in the room was dim. After blinking his eyes a few to times to clear his hazy vision, John was at last able to focus on Sherlock. John would never be a master of deduction but one look at Sherlock was all he needed to confirm the seriousness of his own condition. Sherlock's eyes were red and puffy with evidence of dried tears and dark circles underneath from not sleeping. His face was paler than John had ever seen it unless the man himself was in the hospital. His hair unkempt and in a riotous mess from constantly running his hands through it and his suit was hopelessly wrinkled. He probably hasn't changed or taken care of himself at all thought John. John had yet to speak merely taking in Sherlock and his appearance as well as comforting himself with his presence.

But John's silence only added to Sherlock's nerves as he prompted again, "John….what is it love? I'm here." Seeing John licking at his dry lips, Sherlock quickly seized on an action he could do for John. "Do you need a drink?" At John's still silent nod he readily offered the cup and straw, "Sip slowly now."

John drank deeply, the cool water feeling refreshing on his mouth and lips. Sensing the fear and worry radiating from his mate, John offered what little reassurance he could as he managed a small smile and whispered, "Missed you love."

Relief instantly spread across Sherlock's face and the side of his mouth quirked up in response to the smile of his cheeky mate. Cupping John's face in both hands, Sherlock placed a soft kiss on his lips before replying. "Not nearly as much as I have missed you my love."

About then John finally noticed Mycroft standing behind Sherlock watching them both with concern. He was shocked to say the least to see Mycroft in less than pristine condition himself. Not nearly as rumpled as Sherlock but still a bit mussed and tired looking. John noticed the used cot off to the side. Knowing full well Sherlock probably barely slept or left his side he guessed Mycroft had stayed as well. Shit! This was serious! Was he dying for fuck's sake?!

Hoping to ease the tension in the room John greeted Mycroft with a grin, "Serious as all that was it? Required intervention by the British Government himself did I?"

"Quite so John," Mycroft replied with a small smile in return.

John had attempted to sit up a bit more and straighten himself in the bed as he spoke but stopped short at the sharp pain in his side. The pain cut right through his attempts at levity in the situation causing John to blurt out, "Damn that hurts! What the bloody hell happened to me this time?!"

Sherlock, who was in the process of pressing John's shoulder back into the mattress to prevent him from moving again, looked sharply at Mycroft then back to John.

"You don't remember," he asked cautiously. John shook his head.

"What is the last thing you do remember John?" Sherlock waited anxiously for the answer.

John found himself trying to recall…...the last thing he remembered. There was a black fog in his mind, as if there was something there but hidden and only wisps of memory escaped. Finally John seized on a memory. "We were chasing a killer! The one who broke in and killed his lover and the guy he found him with," John looked expectantly to Sherlock and Mycroft.

"Anything else John," Sherlock asked looking even more cautious than before. John retraced his thoughts again. Coming up with the same last memory, he merely shook his head at Sherlock.

"Mycroft would you please alert John's doctor that he's awake and ask him to come in?" Sherlock had his stoic mask on now. That face that John hated because it meant Sherlock didn't want John to know what he was thinking or feeling.

"Certainly brother" Mycroft replied. Concern still etched on his face as well when he exited the room.

John absolutely hated being left out of the loop, especially with the Holmes. "What?! What is it Sherlock?! What is so wrong to make you look worried again?"

Instantly aware of his mate's increasing anxiety but doubting his answer would soothe him much, Sherlock replied in his perfunctory manner, "That chase was last week John. There was an accident. You've been unconscious here for over thirty-six hours with a concussion. Perhaps this is normal but your doctor will have to make that assessment."

John suspected Sherlock had left out some details but his thoughts were already chasing each other around in his head so he did not pursue it. Last week….he couldn't remember a whole week. Sherlock said he had been unconscious for thirty-six hours but that was all. That left five and a half days unaccounted for. John was troubled by the realization but reassured at the same time. He knew himself, he knew Sherlock and Mycroft, he knew where he lived and what work he did, so not complete amnesia then. John had a pretty good guess that this was a temporary form of amnesia brought on by the accident and concussion. Of course the doctor would want to run some tests and such but John would do the same himself. He actually found himself much calmer after making his way through his thoughts. When he focused on the world again he found Mycroft had returned and a doctor was entering the room.

The doctor nodded at John in greeting, "Doctor Watson. I am Doctor Ashford, the lead doctor on your case. I supervised your surgery. Mister Holmes, the elder, informs me that you seem to have some problems with recent memory?"

John was only a bit surprised that he had surgery. He was more interested in the fact of Sherlock not mentioning it. Doctor Ashford was a doctor John had not met before in his work or various admissions, still he seemed competent enough. John nodded to the doctor, "Yes. Apparently. The last memory I can recall is from last week according to Sherlock."

"I see. Well let's get your exam over and then we will see about a CT scan to check the status of that concussion and then go from there. Do you wish the gentleman to step out?"

John saw Sherlock bristle out of the corner of his eye but he understood that Doctor Ashford was referring to Mycroft. No doctor would ever ask a bonded Alpha to leave their mate during an exam. John was certain Mycroft had stayed for Sherlock's benefit while John was out and he knew how Sherlock could get when he was hurt. Sherlock hated being driven by hormones and primal instinct feeling that it went against his logic and intellect. But when it came to John, he was powerless to stop the response of mate to mate and all it entailed.

"No Doctor it is fine if he stays. He already knows everything about me anyway." John couldn't resist winking at Mycroft on the last, taking a small dig at his constant surveillance of them, even in their home.

Sherlock cut his eyes to Mycroft with a smirk on his own face. While Mycroft himself harrumphfed in response to the dig but otherwise took it with good humor.

Doctor Ashford got down to his exam, shining a penlight in John's eyes to check the dilation. Ears, nose, mouth followed. Listening to John's heart was easy but when John had to take a deep breath so the doctor could check his lungs he gasped and had to stop.

"Yes those ribs are going to be a while healing. You had two displaced fractured ribs Doctor Watson. One knicked your liver and required the surgery and blood transfusion you received. You know how important it will be to keep taking those deep breaths as often as you can manage."

John only nodded as the exam continued. The doctor checked his dressings and did and external exam of his ribs and torso, causing John to suck in a sudden breath from the pain and Sherlock to growl softly at the doctor. Doctor Ashford was no fool and quickly moved on with the exam, listening to John's abdomen. Doctor Ashford had to manually feel the organs in John's abdomen as well and he tried to do so carefully aware of the many bruises and the 'other' surgery.

Sherlock's growl only got louder when he pressed deep into John's lower abdomen causing John to let out a loud groan of pain. Doctor Ashford's eyes cut to Sherlock as he spoke to John, "Yes…..there was….some extensive bruising from the accident and surgery. That's going to take a while as well"

Sherlock merely blinked in understanding.

John looked at both of them and the distinct feeling that something was being kept from him did not ease. Even Mycroft was wearing his most innocent expression, which was not terribly innocent at all. His response was direct.

"May I be allowed to see my chart Doctor Ashford?"

Sherlock looked almost panicked for a moment until Doctor Ashford answered promptly.

"No. I'm sorry Doctor Watson, normally I would gladly allow a fellow physician to see his own chart. But in your current condition, there are things….perhaps traumatising to read without your memory intact. So I can not in good conscience allow you to see it at this time. Now I will go see about your pain medicine and ordering that CT scan." And with that he left.

John glared from Sherlock to Mycroft and then back again but said nothing. He could understand what the doctor was saying and would probably do the same in his shoes. It was just so damned bloody annoying! They both knew how much he hated not knowing what was going on. And this time it was his own fucking body they were talking about!

Just then a knock sounded and Lestrade stuck his head in, "I was just coming to check in guys." Seeing John he brightened instantly, "Hello mate! Glad to see you awake at last! Should I even ask how you are feeling?"

John couldn't help but chuckle at his friend's enthusiasm, even if he had to clutch his side as he did so. "Ow,ow,ow…..good to see you too Greg. I feel a bit like shit and I can't remember the past week but hey...I'm alive right?!" John winked at Greg as he spoke.

Greg glanced at Mycroft and Sherlock as he caught up with the sentence. "You can't remember the past week?"

John snapped.

"NO! And I would appreciate it if you would all stop with the cryptic looks because Obviously something happened that I can't remember yet and you guys are Pissing Me Off!" John attempted to take a deep calming breath but still couldn't manage without pain. Instead he closed his eyes and breathed normally.

The three other men in the room look chagrined and remained quiet.

After a few moments John spoke up, "I'm sorry Greg. I shouldn't have jumped you like that. You just got here and it is good of you to check on me. Just not quite myself yet."

"Oh don't mention it John. We all have had our bad days, yeah." Greg replied genially.

Everyone remained quiet until Doctor Ashford came in again. "Doctor Watson we will do your scan within the hour. The nurse will bring you something for pain shortly to make the movement and scan more tolerable for you."

"Thanks Doctor Ashford. Will I get to eat after that? I'm feeling a bit famished actually," John asked as he rubbed his hand over his grumbling stomach. He didn't notice Sherlock visibly pale and then look a bit green at the action.

"Certainly, Doctor. After the scan you may eat whatever you feel like, though do try to keep it healthy. It will take some days to build your blood volume back to normal and you need plenty of vitamins and fluids to help. I will see you as soon as I can after the scan is complete." And with that he left again.

Greg departed soon after taking note of anything John or Sherlock needed from the flat and promising to bring it back by this evening and to give Ms. Hudson the news that John was awake. She had been so worried after all. Mycroft walked Greg out to give Sherlock and John a little time alone before the procedure.

John was still annoyed at the secrets but understood everyone thought it was best in his condition. Besides he could never stay mad at Sherlock for long, and he wanted comfort from his mate now. Gingerly scooting himself over in the bed, John patted the space on his right side, "Come here love, I want you close."

Sherlock looked sceptical and concerned at the same time, "I really probably shouldn't…..your ribs…"

"We'll be careful….please love?"

John's plea was the only incentive Sherlock needed. Moving quickly he lowered himself down beside John, easing his arm around John's shoulders while he settled his head on Sherlock's chest. John listened to Sherlock's heart beat strong and steady under his ear and sighed contentedly. Sherlock too seemed to sigh in relief, his body molding around John's in the tiny bed. John was still tired and drowsy so it was no surprise that he drifted off just as he was. Sherlock having barely slept for days, held John close in his arms and rested his own head atop the sandy one on his shoulder and slept.

Mycroft had returned to this scene but merely sat quietly texting Anthea, keeping abreast of current news and developments. The nurse found them like that when she brought John's medicine. She didn't even disturb them. Quietly giving John's medication through his IV line she left them resting quietly until time for the exam. John for his part barely grumbled when Sherlock had to ease himself out of the bed so they could take John down for the scan; he just continued to doze thanks to the drug in his system. The nurse assured Sherlock that John would sleep through the scan and probably for a while afterwards. Sherlock merely nodded as he followed her with John to the scan. He still wasn't about to leave John alone and no one questioned him about it either.

The exam only took half an hour and John did indeed continue sleeping until dinner time, awaking a bit groggy when Doctor Ashford made his evening rounds.

"Well your scan looks good. No residual damage or blood clots present. It really does look like this is just temporary amnesia induced by trauma. The events of the past week may trickle back into conscious memory over the next few days or they may come rushing back all at once. I can't really say what is most likely for you."

This only confirmed what John suspected himself but it was good to have corroboration. "Thank you Doctor Ashford for your frankness. I appreciate it." Just then John's stomach gave a growl as his supper arrived.

Doctor Ashford laughed, "Ready for that meal now are you? Well you are welcome Doctor Watson. Enjoy your food. I'll see you in the morning." With another smile and a wave he was gone again.

John sighed happily as he dug into his hospital meal. It certainly wasn't fine dining but he was hungry. He was already finished with the tray when Lestrade came by with their things from home. While the boys were both grateful for the things they needed, John was ecstatic when Greg produced a surprise from Ms. Hudson. A box packed with two meat pies, John's favorite biscuits, and a thermos of tea from home. Sherlock had barely eaten either, merely sitting at the bedside while John ate the hospital meal. Now John insisted he eat something pushing one of the pies at him and a cup of tea, adding sugar from his hospital packet to the cup for Sherlock. They continued eating happily, chatting around the gaps in John's memory and filling Greg in on the scan results. He couldn't stay long as he had to get back to some paperwork at the Yard but promised to check in again tomorrow. Both men gave him thanks for the care package and waved him off. Mycroft also took his leave with Greg, stepping out to get some dinner for himself once he'd assured himself that Sherlock would be alright. Left alone in peace and relative quiet, they were on the last cups of tea and nibbling the last biscuits when the new evening shift nurse came in.

"Mister Holmes? There is a doctor out here who would like to speak to you."

John confused by this spoke up, "Are you sure he didn't want to see me?"

"No Sir. He specifically asked for Mister Holmes."

Sherlock merely shrugged and rose to leave. Leaning down he gave John a quick kiss, "I'll just be outside and I'll be right back."

John smiled after him and then resumed nibbling on a biscuit still wondering what that was about. He could hear muffled voices outside and after a moment it dawned on him that his nurse had left the door open. There was a four-inch gap and if John just slid over a bit in the bed…..OW! Damn his ribs! John continued moving but a bit more slowly until finally he could lean his head just to the side and see clearly out of the door. He could see Sherlock talking with someone but his back was to John and blocking the person. John huffed in annoyance again but waited patiently, knowing Sherlock's nervous habits. Eventually Sherlock moved and John could see….Doctor Johnson? Doctor Johnson was his personal doctor. Why would he be here talking to Sherlock and not him? Maybe he just wanted to check on him? That was nice considering John really only saw him for physicals and his Omega care... Oh.

John winced at a sudden pain in his head and swore there were fireworks going off in his skull. Overwhelmed, a rush of thoughts and images played across John's mind coming faster and faster until they stopped abruptly. Sherlock, anniversary, Doctor Johnson, appointment, fight, cab, tears, bright lights, car horns, sirens, BABY! John had started to breathe heavily through his nose as the memories rushed back into being in his mind. By the time it stopped he was practically hyperventilating and his heart rate had increased sharply setting off the alarms on his monitors. John just continued staring at Sherlock and Doctor Johnson in the hallway still talking. He knew. He knew what that sense of emptiness was. He knew why they wouldn't tell him what had happened. He knew he lost the baby because of the accident. John was starting to see spots in his vision from hyperventilating but seemed frozen in this state.

Sherlock instantly averted his attention from Doctor Johnson when the nurses hurried into the room to check on John and the alarms. John knew he was on the verge of passing out...shock perhaps, but he kept his eyes focused on Sherlock. Sherlock ran back to the room behind the nurses but stopped in the doorway to stay out of their way as they tried to calm John and assess him at the same time.

Pinned in place by John's piercing stare, Sherlock braced himself with hands on either side of the door-frame . He took in the frantic breathing and higher heart rate but he could tell there was something else going on. He locked eyes with John once more.

"I remember," John whispered in a rush…..then his world went black again.