John did his best to find Sherlock. He had looked and looked and looked and he had almost broken down by the fifth hour of being back in that stupid house and near that damned well. And now he stood next to a bed in a hospital with Sherlock lying in it and doctors saying he wouldn't wake up. And they were obviously wrong because Sherlock always woke up. And Mycroft was already walking around by now, so Sherlock would wake up soon.
So when Mycroft made his way into Sherlock's room, Greg at his side, John didn't look. Because how could he when Sherlock was still in that bed? When he was still asleep? When he had those damned white covers on his body?
"John," the voice was soft and John tensed. Mycroft did not speak that way. But he was now. It was wrong. Bad.
"No," was the only choked thing that came out of John's mouth. He felt a hand at his shoulder.
"You need sleep."
"I don't need anything." a pause. "I need him to wake up."
"I know."
The hand didn't move. John felt tears prick at his eyes. "What did she do to him?" he asked.
Silence.
"I have no idea."
John shook his head and stood from his chair, turning to Greg and Mycroft. "He's going to wake up."
A pitied look from Mycroft.
"I know he will. He's Sherlock bloody Holmes. He always wakes up." John was shaking. He didn't know if it was fear from Sherlock not waking or anger at Mycroft and all those damned doctors.
"Okay."
The voice came slow, like Mycroft was thinking. "But you still need sleep. Go back to the flat. I'll be here. I'll stay with him."
John looked down at the leg Mycroft had been limping on. The cane in his hand. The hand at his side.
John shook his head. He couldn't leave Sherlock. He could never leave Sherlock. But part of him knew it was right. Part of him knew he did need sleep. He hadn't had sleep for the last 72 hours. He needed it.
"I stay here," he murmured. Myroft opened his mouth but John shook his head.
"I'll sleep but I need to stay here. I can't be at the flat. It's empty without Sherlock and if he wakes up...I need to be here."
Mycroft nodded. He couldn't argue. He already knew how John felt about Sherlock. He sat back down, curling himself in the chair. It only took the time for Greg and Mycroft to both sit before John was almost fully asleep.
"What if he doesn't wake up?" Greg asked, his voice cutting though John's sleep induced mind.
John didn't answer. He was far too deep into his sleep already, but the question pricked at his nerves.
What if Sherlock didn't wake up?
YOU ARE READING
Just Within Your Reach
Fanfiction-The case was a disaster. The storm had come early, and they were stuck in the hotel. John didn't want to be in the room, not now. Not with Sherlock right there. Just within his reach. If he wanted, he could reach out, pull Sherlock close, hold him...
