John must have only been unconscious for a few minutes. When he first awoke the street was like a war zone. Something all too familiar. There was dust and stone everywhere, the building was on fire. Sherlock lay next to him his head bleeding, his leg at an awkward angle. John gave himself a once over. Minor head injury, scrapes and bruises, nothing overly serious.
He crawled over to Sherlock, placing his fingers against his throat, please be alive you idiot, he breathed a sigh of relief when he felt a steady beat. “Sherlock, Sherlock mate you need to wake up now” He patted the side of his friends face, giving a small smile as the detective began to stir. Pale eyes opened, locking on immediately to John.
“John!”
“Ssh, its ok, Im ok, you're.... you'll be ok”
Sherlock looked around, wincing and wished he hadn't. “My head” John brushed back to hair, slight wound on the front, his hand moved around to the back. Blood coated his fingertips. Sherlock probably had a concussion too.
John moved back, pulling his friends head off the cold, hard concrete and into his lap. “You need to stay with me, can you do that Sherlock?” Sherlock's eyes were still dazed and confused. But he tried to nod. Hey lay there for a few seconds and then his eyes widened.
“Mycroft!”
He tried to lift himself out of John's lap, with great difficulty, virtually pitching forward and onto his face. “Sherlock!”. The detective couldn't stand, his leg was to badly injured for him to do so. “Mycroft!” He kept calling for his brother. It was heart breaking. Lestrade spotted the two of them, running over, a worried look on his face. John tried to pull his detective back.
“Are you two ok?”
“Not really, any word about Mycroft?” Lestrade shook his head. “Im sorry, no one who escaped goes by that name, we're still searching for surviours.. but.. Im sorry it's not looking good.” Sherlock's body had given up and was now lying on his side.
“John...John!”
“I'm here Sherlock”
“Mycroft?” God he sounded so young and innocent.
“.....Im sorry Sherlock...I don't know”
He pulled his flatmate against his chest, the man's legs folded awkwardly beside him. “No.. he has to be ok, the idiot, he has to be, John”. But John couldn't reassure him, looking at the wreckage, he wasn't able to tell if anyone inside could have survived such a blast. Lestrade began speaking to Sally, who shook her head, staring at Sherlock.
“Sherlock... Im sorry, it looks like -”
“No”
“Sherlock, mate..” Lestrade knelt down to his level. John noted that his flatmate had began to clench at his jumper. “Im sorry” He honestly was. Sherlock was shaking, tears began to well up in his eyes. “You're wrong!...He can't be .. he's not allowed.... no....no!” The tears began to fall, a trickle at first but soon they were streaming down his cheeks. He bent his head into John's shoulder, clenching the jumper tighter.
John felt tears sting his own eyes, and wrapped his arms around his friend, rubbing his back and whispering soothing words. He looked over at Lestrade, miming for an ambulance, he could still feel blood seeping down Sherlock's neck.
“Mycroft... no... god no..”
“It'll be ok Sherlock...”
“Sherlock?...Sherlock?!”
But his friend wasn't listening anymore. His body had finally given up and Sherlock had slipped back into the unconscious world.
Re: Oh Brother Of Mine 12/?
John must have only been unconscious for a few minutes. When he first awoke the street was like a war zone. Something all too familiar. There was dust and stone everywhere, the building was on fire. Sherlock lay next to him his head bleeding, his leg at an awkward angle. John gave himself a once over. Minor head injury, scrapes and bruises, nothing overly serious.
He crawled over to Sherlock, placing his fingers against his throat, please be alive you idiot, he breathed a sigh of relief when he felt a steady beat. “Sherlock, Sherlock mate you need to wake up now” He patted the side of his friends face, giving a small smile as the detective began to stir. Pale eyes opened, locking on immediately to John.
“John!”
“Ssh, its ok, Im ok, you're.... you'll be ok”
Sherlock looked around, wincing and wished he hadn't. “My head” John brushed back to hair, slight wound on the front, his hand moved around to the back. Blood coated his fingertips. Sherlock probably had a concussion too.
John moved back, pulling his friends head off the cold, hard concrete and into his lap. “You need to stay with me, can you do that Sherlock?” Sherlock's eyes were still dazed and confused. But he tried to nod. Hey lay there for a few seconds and then his eyes widened.
“Mycroft!”
He tried to lift himself out of John's lap, with great difficulty, virtually pitching forward and onto his face. “Sherlock!”. The detective couldn't stand, his leg was to badly injured for him to do so. “Mycroft!” He kept calling for his brother. It was heart breaking. Lestrade spotted the two of them, running over, a worried look on his face. John tried to pull his detective back.
“Are you two ok?”
“Not really, any word about Mycroft?” Lestrade shook his head. “Im sorry, no one who escaped goes by that name, we're still searching for surviours.. but.. Im sorry it's not looking good.” Sherlock's body had given up and was now lying on his side.
“John...John!”
“I'm here Sherlock”
“Mycroft?” God he sounded so young and innocent.
“.....Im sorry Sherlock...I don't know”
He pulled his flatmate against his chest, the man's legs folded awkwardly beside him. “No.. he has to be ok, the idiot, he has to be, John”. But John couldn't reassure him, looking at the wreckage, he wasn't able to tell if anyone inside could have survived such a blast. Lestrade began speaking to Sally, who shook her head, staring at Sherlock.
“Sherlock... Im sorry, it looks like -”
“No”
“Sherlock, mate..” Lestrade knelt down to his level. John noted that his flatmate had began to clench at his jumper. “Im sorry” He honestly was. Sherlock was shaking, tears began to well up in his eyes. “You're wrong!...He can't be .. he's not allowed.... no....no!” The tears began to fall, a trickle at first but soon they were streaming down his cheeks. He bent his head into John's shoulder, clenching the jumper tighter.
John felt tears sting his own eyes, and wrapped his arms around his friend, rubbing his back and whispering soothing words. He looked over at Lestrade, miming for an ambulance, he could still feel blood seeping down Sherlock's neck.
“Mycroft... no... god no..”
“It'll be ok Sherlock...”
“Sherlock?...Sherlock?!”
But his friend wasn't listening anymore. His body had finally given up and Sherlock had slipped back into the unconscious world.