The Science Of Second Chances//Book Two

Chapter 1~ Once Upon A Time

Teddy's P.O.V

It wasn't a person who manages to wake me. Not the smell of antibiotics or chemicals. The beeping had been echoing in my mind for some time now, becoming a soft song that would lull me back into a dreamless sleep whenever I began to stir.

None of those things wake me. It was a simple breeze that manages to bring me back to the world of the living. My eyelids flutter open as the light breeze tickles my cheek. It's that cool breeze that makes me smile widely as my eyes adjust to the light in the room.

After my near-death experience I have come to appreciate the small things in life.

With a silent yawn I tilt my head to the side. Through the open window I can see that the day is bright and cloudless, something that doesn't usually happen in London. Turning my head to the other side my smile becomes wider. There, sitting in a seat and snoring softly is John Watson. His head is lolling to the side, his arm resting on my bed. Looking down I can see that his fingers are loosely laced with mine.

Usually in movies or books the person who wakes up in hospital has slight difficulty remembering how they got there. With me I guess it was different.

I can remember being at the pool. I can remember him, the man who brought me there. I remember pain and water and darkness then light.

I can remember hearing John's voice, panicked and worried, his grip on my hand almost bone-crushing.

He'll never know how relieved I was knowing that someone was still there, holding me on this planet, never letting me go.

The door behind John opens and a tall, dark-haired man comes sweeping into the large room. He looks at me, his eyes widen and then he is by my side, cautiously sitting on the edge of my bed.

"Teddy," Sherlock says.

"Sherly," I reply, "You mind helping me up into a sitting position? I don't feel like talking to you while my eyes stare up at the ceiling."

He chuckles, standing.

"John," he says. John stirs, his eyes opening tiredly.

"Sh'lock," he moans, rubbing the kinks out of his neck with one hand. His eyes fall on my smiling face and he freezes.

"You're- you're awake!" he says quickly.

"Indeed I am," I answer. He looks up at Sherlock then turns back to me.

"You should've woken me," he tells me. I shrug then hiss in pain. John stands up quickly, Sherlock by his side as they both stare at me with worry in their eyes.

"Are you alright?" John asks. I nod weakly, feeling my blood work it's way back up to my face.

"Yeah, yeah, just help me up please," I ask. They're careful not to touch my shoulder, putting more pillows behind me to make sitting up more comfortable. I nod my thanks at them and sigh.

"How long have I been out for?" I ask.

"Two days. They operated on your shoulder and you've had several blood transfusions," Sherlock tells me. I groan.

"Someone better tell Lestrade that I'm gonna be late to work," I say.

"Tell him yourself, he's outside," Sherlock says.

"What? Really?" I say, shocked. I expected him to be at work.

"He comes in every morning before work and later in the evening to check up on you."

"Oh," I say softly. Sherlock looks at John then smirks.

"John hasn't left your side since you were shot. The doctors had to wrestle with him to get him out of the operating room when you went in," he says. I look at John who is smiling awkwardly, looking away.