Chapter Eight

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Sherlock walked home slowly, partially because he was having trouble walking (he suspected he had three broken ribs, a sprained ankle, and a few broken fingers, along with several bumps, bruises, and bleeding wounds) and partially because he didn't know what to tell John. 

'Should I tell him about Moriarty?. Should I tell him I know about him and Jake? Should I tell him I know he knows how I feel? These were the thoughts that raced through Sherlock's mind.

Back at the flat John had gotten out all of his medical supplies (he knew how bad Sherlock could be when he said he was fine), he had out a clean change of clothes for Sherlock and tea on the stove. He didn't care that it was 3 o'clock in the morning, he only cared that Sherlock was safe. He heard the door open downstairs. Since he didn't here bounding up the stairs and the door swing open he went to see if it was indeed the consulting detective. It was indeed but he appeared to be having immense trouble getting up the stairs. John took one look at Sherlock and ran down towards him. 

"Oh my God Sherlock! How on earth does this fall into the 'fine' category" Sherlock smiled as John helped him to his feet .

"I am fine, I'm just have a little trouble standing and breathing". 

"Sherlock I am taking you to the hospital you look awful!"

"Well thanks you don look to hot yourself. I do not need to go to the hospital." 

"Sherlock we are not arguing about this!" 

"John hate to tell you but we already are arguing about it and your a doctor what do I need a hospital for?" 

"Fine just let me go get something to help you walk up to the flat". A minute later John came down the stairs and injected Sherlock with a shot. "

"Thank you John."

"Give it a few minutes to kick in."

"What was it?" Sherlock asked already feeling groggy.

"Midazolam, its a sedative so I can get you to Bart's."

John went out and called a taxi then came back inside to grab Sherlock and get put him in the car. Once in the cab John turned to Sherlock,

 "Are you feeling better that should be helping with the pain." 

"I am feeling a bit better, but very dizzy." 

"Put your head down on my shoulder, try to sleep."

"I'll just lay back, its fine."

Even with the meds in him Sherlock could still remember the events of the night and didn't want to put his head on John's shoulder. Though shortly after he fell asleep, that's exactly where his head ended up. John wrapped his arm around the sleeping detective so that he could be more comfortable. 

John had already called the hospital and when their cab pulled in a team of medics were waiting to take Sherlock. John sat in the waiting room well his friend was being examined and fixed up. 

'Why would someone want to hurt Sherlock this badly? I will kill whoever did this! I hope he is ok" were the only thoughts spinning in John's head.

---

"Where am I? Oh yes the hospital."

"Where is John?! Oh he is sleeping in the chair next to my bed.'

"Why do I have a bed? I wasn't too injured.'

Sherlock layed in his bed and examined his injuries, nothing major, everything should heal up within a few weeks. He glanced around the room, it was fairly standard, just a bed , tv, chair and a bouquet of flowers with a card that said 

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