Thirty-Seven

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Another brutal-faced henchman of Moriarty's stood before John and Sherlock, though this time it was a female. The detective recognized her as a murderer who had been thrown into an asylum for the criminally insane. Her harsh expression showed no mercy for anyone, not even the two young children in front of her. She noticed the presences of the two men, ignoring their butting-in and going on with the plan she was given. Lorelin was forced to grab a revolver from the insane woman, sobs spilling out of her mouth and hair sticking to her face from the tears.

"Do it." The woman instructed.

"Do it or I shoot!" She said again, yelling this time as the gun in her own hand was pressed threateningly to the teenager's temple.

"Okay, okay..."Lorelin sniffled loudly, crying louder from how afraid she was.

Her hands trembled as they slowly lifted the revolver up to the toddler's head. John gasped, stepping forward towards his child protectively while Sherlock placed his arm in front of the doctor's torso to stop him from running out. John didn't care about the arm blocking him, as soon as the gun was cocked, he ran to grab his son. The criminal woman glared at him with more cruelty than before as she aimed the gun at the protective father. Lorelin dropped the gun to the floor, her body crumbling down with the weapon while she sobbed hysterically.

Sherlock released what was happening and ran forwards to shield his blogger or to at least protect what John valued- his son. The gun was fired, a loud boom echoed in the room and someone else crumpled to the floor while the diabolical woman speedily walked away.

>>>>

The smell of antiseptics and cleaners were the only scents of the room. Feeling too weak to open his eyes, darkness was the only thing he experienced for his sense of sight. Periodic beeps quietly disturbed the peaceful silence of what was assumed to be a hospital. A terrible, ripping sensation tingled at the end of his ribcage where the bullet had buried itself into his body.

As his strength came back and consciousness increased, the injured man opened his eyes in the most careful manner possible. His prediction had been confirmed, he was lying on a white hospital bed with wires through his forearms and beeping machines around him. The room was completely vacant of visitors at that moment and it seemed quite early in the morning since the view from the window reflected the look of a morning just after dawn.

Inside of the waiting room, the sad man sat beside a quiet toddler boy and hysterical teenage girl. His head had been hanging downwards, gazing at his shoes for hours while he sat around. For a moment, it was as if something was telling him to get up and check on his recently shot flatmate. The thought's compulsion was so incredibly strong that the man stood up and went to his best friend's room, not giving a damn about whether or not it was allowed.

John peered at Sherlock who had just walked in through the doors, making the wound ache a bit more as he attempted to sit up. Lorelin and Daniel trailed behind Sherlock with solemn faces in memory of what had previously occurred and about how the doctor must've been in pain. The kids waved a greeting to the injured man brielfy and left the two adults alone in the privacy of the hospital room. As soon as Sherlock opened his mouth to speak, a nurse popped in and glared at the tall detective while shooing him out of the room so she could check on John's condition.

He sat back down in frustration, holding his head in his hands and thinking over how John had been shot. He blamed himself for not jumping in front of the bullet to have stopped it from hitting the doctor. His weak conscience brought up the fact that he managed to save Daniel's life, therefore saving John's happiness, but the positive was soon outweighed by the negative of John still being left in a hospital with a gun wound.

"Mr. Holmes? You are allowed to come in now." The nurse informed rudely.

He didn't bother thanking her and rushed inside to get to the doctor's bedside. The kids stayed behind to grant the two some privacy, and they didn't want to get in trouble since the nurse had solely been speaking to the one actual "Mr. Holmes".

"Morning, Sherlock." John smiled.

"Yes, and to you as well John. I apologize for not preventing this, I-"

"You are not responsible at all. This is similar to what happened in the military. Please don't blame yourself and let me heal nicely."

"Alright, but-" Scenes played out in the doctor's head of what could've happened if John had been lost and passed away from the gun shot. His tears choked up his throat as whispery sobbing noises replaced his words. John's eyebrows furrowed at the strange sight and reassuringly patted at his best friend's back, hoping for the crying to cease. The detective had managed to cry long enough that he had fallen asleep on John's chest with hands cradling his face.

John tried to get him to respond in a few ways, checking to see how deeply asleep he was. Frankly, emotional Sherlock fell asleep so easily that it was difficult to move much, but it made for some childish whining at times. His unresponsiveness allowed John to run fingers around his curly hairs, playing with each collective curl, and sparking ideas on how the detective must've felt about everything that they had done and was upset about even the mere thought of losing him.

Lorelin re-entered the room with Daniel and furrowed her dark brows at what she saw.

"Why is he sleeping over your hospital bed?"

"He cried himself to sleep and I can't move him off."

"Ah...so how long do you have to be here for?"

"A week, approximately."

"Is he planning on staying the entire time?" The girl questioned, pointing to the sleeping figure.

"No, that's too long for him to sit around in a hospital."

"He'll be an absolute joy for the next week, I can already tell." She crossed her arms as a sarcastic tone invaded her voice.

"Well then Sherlock'll just have to suck it up and deal with this problem. Anyways, are you alright?"

"Physically, yes. Mentally...I'm not so sure. But it's not like it was perfectly fine in the first place."

"Sorry you were dragged into that. You shouldn't have had to deal with such horrific people."

"I'm just glad we're all still alive and that you both came to save me and him." She motioned towards Daniel.

"We had to, it was our job. Well, mainly mine and Sherlock was there to figure out the location since Mycroft forced him to find you."

"My lazy step-dad." Her eyes rolled.

"He may consume masses of cake, but he does work with many dangerous people and fix deals with others to try to keep everyone safe... so don't say he's that lazy."

The girl chuckled at the mention of her step-father's love for cake since it was commonly brought up in the form of an insult by his younger brother when they were playfully dueling each others' intelligence. Lorelin finally felt as though she was getting closer to the Holmes' side of the family through John, even though it wasn't in the happiest or most positive of ways. She upheld a long conversation with the injured blogger until the detective had awoken and was able to deliver both children back home, moderately safely.

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