Be My Starlight

Explanation

Sherlock looks horrible, whatever happened was brutal. He keeps waking up for a few seconds, screaming, before slipping back under. The doctors leave Mycroft and I in the waiting room while they work on Sherlock. It is horrid. Waiting and knowing I can't do anything. Mycroft makes me sit down after an hour of pacing the floor. He looks worse than he was when Sherlock overdosed the last time. A nurse walks over finally, both of us shoot up and meet her half way across the room.

"He is still under, but he keeps asking for John. You wont be able to get much out of him right now, dont ask what happened, but ill let you go back."

Mycroft pulls me away before we leave, asking me to let him know how Sherlock is doing when I get back. I follow the nurse back, a feeling of dread bubbling up.

"We think he is going to make a recovery, it'll take time, but he should turn out okay."

She takes me into the room, where Sherlock is lying in the bed. He dosent look like he is in physical pain, but the mental pain must be driving him crazy. I walk over slowly, sinking into the chair beside the bed. Sherlock wakes up when I reach out to take his hand, the look in his eyes is heart breaking. Tears well up in my eyes as he shifts over and asks me to sit with him. I sit on the edge of the bed, stroking his hair. He is still foggy from the sedative, but seems to know where he is.

"John?"

"Yeah?"

He starts crying again, reaching out to take my hand. I let him, though I am still trying to hold back tears.

"John...I...I love you."

"I love you too my Little Otter."

We are both crying now, the pent up stress from the past week is too much to hold in. Sherlock tries to sit up, pulling on me to help him rise. He looks more disoriented when he moves, so I lie down beside him instead. I let him lie his head against my chest, not moving for the next half hour. He tries to talk to me, but most of it is a jumbled mess.

"John?"

"I'm still here Sherlock."

"D..dont leave. Please."

"I'm not going to. I promise."

A nurse walks in, staring at us oddly as she checks his vitals.

"How is he?"

"Hanging on. Barely. Keep him relaxed, it'll help."

She leaves rather quickly, shutting the door behind her. Sherlock tries to sit up again, groaning as he starts to feel his injuries. The sheet slips down to reveal his chest and stomach, both of which are covered in deep bruises and cuts. The light streaming in through the window isnt enough for me to properly see the extent of his injuries, but I can see enough to know it was hell.

"Sherlock, you need to lie down. Please."

"I'm fine."

He is coughing violently now, entire body shaking. The withdrawal symptoms are already beginning, and they are hitting him hard. I slowly move out of the bed, running out of the room to find a nurse.

"He needs another dose of whatever you had him on before I came in. Now. Please."

One of them follows me back to the room, telling me it would be best if I waited outside. Sherlock is yelling again, my heart breaks when I realize he's yelling for me.

"Let me in. Please, I need to be let in!"

The nurse lets me through, which calms Sherlock enough to make him sit back. She walks calmly to Sherlocks side, pulling his arm towards her. He freaks out again when she pulls a needle out, not a good sign. She pulls back and allows me to go over to him, sittibg on the edge of the bed again. I hold him as she does the injection, whispering softly in his ear. He is holding onto me tightly now, not wanting to let go. I stroke his hair, letting him cry against me. He is shaking again, so I start rocking him back and forth. This helps with his anxiety and he calms down rather quickly.