Hi, its taken me ages to actually get the confidence to start uploading this fic! Its my first Sherlock one, so any criticism is very welcome. In this AU, John didn't get with Mary and Sherlock and John are unaware of Greg and Mycroft's relationship. This story is going to be several chapters long, I've already started chapter four so I'll update regularly. Please review, it gives me the confidence to write :) x

It was mid-march, early afternoon, a year after the fall. Sherlock and I had just returned home from a particularly complex and emotionally challenging – for me at least – case, involving the murder of a mother of two young children whom at that time had been pregnant with her third. The case had taken at least 3 days to solve – Sherlock claimed to have worked it out in 2 hours but was just waiting on hard evidence - but it had turned out that the woman in question had been located by some old school 'friends' whom still had a vendetta against her as they had been expelled after horrendous bullying.

But anyway, like I said, mid-march, he was stressed, I was upset and neither of us had slept in two days. So when we entered 221b to discover that Mrs Hudson had left a note informing us that she had gone to bingo and wouldn't be back until late, we were both rather relieved not to have the old woman fussing. We immediately proceeded up onto the first floor where we fell, exhausted into our respective chairs and sighed.

And that's when it happened. Okay, maybe not the 'it' you're hoping for but it's still a big 'it'.

Sherlock, cold, emotionless Sherlock, began to cry silently in his chair. His face was straight and his mouth was tightly shut, but his eyes. His beautiful, mysterious, tear-filled eyes gave away the pain he harboured and betrayed his cold exterior by letting the droplets run down his face as I watched in in shock.

"Sherlock?" I asked as I leant forward in my chair. "What's going on?"

"John," He began in a voice very unlike his own. "I need to tell you something of upmost importance; however I need to ask one think from you. You let me finish."

"Of course."

"John, you've saved my life so many times and in so many ways and you are the most important thing in my life. I need you to understand how much I care. You made me feel more in the last 5 years than I have in my whole life, so thank you." He whispered, avoiding my eyes. Tear after tear slid down his pale, thin cheeks as he spoke in a pained voice.

"Sherlock, what's going on? You're scaring m-" I began but I was cut off by a woman's high pitched voice outside the door.

"Sherlock!"

It was Molly.

"Molly, come in, please take a seat." He replied as he turned his face away.

"Sherlock?" I asked again, I could feel my heart beating quicker and quicker.

"John," Molly began when Sherlock didn't answer. "Sherlock had some news this morning. He's um, he's got, a um-"

"Molly just tell him!" Sherlock replied impatiently, the anger was apparent in his voice as he turned to face me. His eyes were now red and wide.

"Tell me what, if someone doesn't tell right now, I swear to god!" I began to shout.

"I'VE GOT A TUMOUR!" Sherlock roared, jumping up from his seat and going into his bedroom before slamming the door behind him.

"Molly, please tell me this isn't happening!"

"Sh-Sherlock has a cancerous tumour in his brain. I'm so sorry John." And then she began to tell me the story of how this had come to their knowledge but I was barely listening.

"But he'll be okay right, they can remove it or shrink or…" I began to hyperventilate.

"John." She took my hands hers, tears slipping down her cheeks as she whispered "He's not going to make it."

I let out a strangulated sob as he ran my hand across my face, before taking a deep breath in.

"Look, Molly, thank you for your help, but I think Sherlock and I need to sit and talk now." I croaked as I tried to swallow the lump in my throat.

"Of course, I'll see myself out."

Once she left, I went to Sherlock's room. I found him lying on his bed, staring blankly at the ceiling. He didn't even seem to register me entering his room but I sat down beside him all the same.

"Sherlock." I whispered. "Come here."

I dragged him into my arms and held his head against my chest as he let out a badly concealed cry.

"Hey, don't be afraid to cry." And with that he sobbed.

He sobbed and he sobbed until all the came out was small hiccups. I wasn't even aware that the man whom everyone thought was cold as ice was able to harbour so much emotion. But maybe it was that he held too much. His body shook violently as I rocked him back and forth, helpless tears slid down my cheeks as his shields went down. And that was how we remained for hours.

I cradled him as he slept, giving me time to process the depth and seriousness of what was happening.

He. Was. Dying.

Sherlock. Was. Dying

My. Sherlock. Was. Dying.

I awoke it was almost 6. I looked around and found myself in Sherlock's bed, he was still lying on my chest sound asleep. Then I saw it. The blood. Coming from Sherlock's nose and ears and running onto my black and white striped jumper.

"Oh Jesus, Sherlock, Sherlock wake up." I said as I shook him. He made as strange noise and half opened his eyes. "Sherlock, don't move, I'm going to get my medical kit."

I climbed out of bed and ran upstairs to my room and grabbed my medical bag which was at the bottom of my cupboard. Something which has come in handy many times when Sherlock has felt the need to get himself near fatally injured. I ran back down to Sherlock and sat cross legged on a pillow and put his head on my lap.

"Sherlock, I'm just going to clean you up a bit okay, can you hear me?"

"John, what's happening to me?" He asked, the terror was evident in his voice.

"Nothing, you're fine. Just stay still for me, I'm going to give Mycroft a call and we'll get you to hospital. I'm not letting them give up on you just yet." I told him as I washed away the blood with the saline solution, before filling his nose and ears with some sterile cotton wool so that the blood would clot.

"No. Mycroft." He whispered once I'd finished, his face had gone pale and he looked like was going to pass out any minute.

"Sherlock, he is the only way we're going to get you help." I said, getting off the bed and calling Mycroft.

"J-John." I heard an unfamiliar voice croak down the phone.

"Mycroft?"

"John, I've just been told about Sherlock's condition and I saw what's just happened on the CCTV in the flat. There's a private ambulance on its way, I shall meet you there. Goodbye John." And he hung up.

And then the sirens were outside. And the paramedics were in the room. And Sherlock was being put on a stretcher.

He lay there staring at the ceiling as they carried him down the stairs. I grabbed for his hand and held it tightly as I followed them into the ambulance which was to take us to the private hospital where Mycroft was waiting for us.

"John?" Sherlock whimpered.

"I'm here."

"Promise me that you won't leave me."

"I won't." I said and I felt his grip on my hand loosen.

A bit too much.

"Sherlock, Sherlock, stay awake for me. Keep talking to me, don't fall asleep." And he did, we kept him awake all the way to the hospital. I made him deduce everything about the paramedic who as it turned out was a lesbian adrenaline junkie who was currently having an affair with the gorgeous ambulance driver.

As soon as we reached the hospital, Sherlock was whisked away and I was taken to the relative's room where I found Mycroft and Lestrade sat next to one another on the comfortable chairs, hands entwined and Mycroft's head resting on Greg's shoulder as the detective whispered words of comfort into his partner's ear. They were both dressed smartly and looked as if they had been out, perhaps for dinner. I'd often wondered if the two of them where more than just acquaintances however, I never thought that they were anything more than just friends. How wrong I was.

"Mycroft, Greg!" I said as the two men greeted me – Greg with a tight hug and Mycroft with a handshake.

"Where's Sherlock?" Asked Mycroft, his voice was calm but his eyes told a completely different story.

"He's been taken for a scan; they want to see the change from his previous scans so that they can make their own prognosis."

"He's in the best hands, isn't he Myc." Greg said reassuringly. "John, we haven't told Sherlock about us yet. We're not quite sure how he's going to react so we've been keeping it a secret."

"How long have you two, you know?"

"Just after Sherlock's 'funeral'."

"So nearly three years isn't it Gregory." Mycroft said as he slipped his hand back into his partners.

"How did you keep that a secret?" I asked, laughing in spite of the situation.

"With great difficulty, I've been living at his for the last year and a half, I mean, the amount of times Sherlock has turned up unannounced and we've been-" Thankfully Mycroft cut him off.

"John doesn't need to know about that, does he Gregory." Mycroft said gently.

Before either of us could say anything, the doctor who had taken Sherlock away came in.

"Dr Watson, Mr Holmes, Detective Lestrade, please take a seat." She said politely. "I'm Jo Saunders, Sherlock's neurologist, I'm a senior consultant. We have taken a look at Sherlock's scans and I do agree with what my colleagues said about the tumour being extremely large, however, I would like to put him on a course of chemotherapy to shrink the tumour so that we can operate. I am optimistic, but I need you to understand that because of the size of the tumour, the procedure is very risky."

"Does Sherlock know all this?" Mycroft asked, his face was unreadable.

"That's why I came to talk to you, Sherlock is refusing chemo, he doesn't want any treatment and he is refusing to let any of my staff near him. Mr Holmes, would you like to speak to him?" Asked the doctor who was avoiding everyone's eyes.

"I don't know what good it will do, but I suppose anything is worth a go if it'll make my little brother see sense." Mycroft replied as he stood up. "You may want to come too, you could wait outside until I've finished." And we followed the young medical professional towards a large room where Sherlock was lying on a bed staring at the ceiling.

Mycroft went in alone and shut the door behind him whilst Greg and I waited outside patiently.

Please review, it means a lot! Till next time x