*John POV*
"He's gone."
I look up slowly, watching the paramedics work on Sherlock before they can safely move him.
"No, he's not! Do your fucking jobs and bring him back! Hes not gone!"
"John, John relax. Come here, its okay."
"No! I'm not leaving him! I...I promised I wouldnt leave him!"
Greg pulls me out of the room, yelling at Mycroft to help him.
"Leave him in here, it may be a while before Sherlock can be moved. There arent windows, so he'll be alright alone."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes. We dont need someone else in the way of things, especially not in a stressful situation like this."
Mycroft pulls Greg out of the room, locking the door and leaving me alone. I claw at the door until my nails are broken and fingers are raw and bleeding, only to find that I cannot escape.
"Sherlock! Please!"
"John, listen to me."
I pause, sinking down and leaning against the door.
"Are you listening?"
"Yes."
"You need to calm down. They are trying everything they can to help, but its a delicate situation. We can't move him yet, not until he is stable."
"The make them do their fucking jobs!"
"Calm down. I cant let you out until you are calm or until Sherlock is gone. Either way, you're stuck for the moment."
"Let me out! I need to help him! Please Greg!"
"Greg, love, leave him alone."
They leave the corridor outside of my door, leaving me alone once more. Eventually I curl up on the floor, grabbing the knife from the dresser and holding it close to my chest as I sleep.
"John?"
The door opens slowly, giving me enough time to lash out at whomever walks through. The blade sinks into someone's flesh, drawing a surprised scream from their lips that quickly turns to one of pain.
