First fanfic in this area, hope you like this little tender story.

"Don't you see, John!" Sherlock shouted and cupped his face. "The man is in that building! Holding a child hostage!" John frowned and grabbed his wrists.

"I know, I was the one who told you." Sherlock was beside himself, walking around in a circle before the doctor, stroking his chin as he pondered with the other hand in the air, pointing to the clear night sky.

"We need to go in there." he said and Watson groaned loudly and felt his pocket for for his gun.

"I know, we can't leave a kind alone with than maniac." Sherlock reached out his hand and took a hold of John collar.

"Do you have your gun?" He nodded and took a deep breath to get rid of the fear, bent his knees to press his lungs together so they would be easier to fill up when he raised again. "You don't have to come if you don't want to."

"Oh, I'm not letting you go alone." Watson said and grabbed his arm and started running towards the abandoned ware house.

Their coats was caught by the air, water splashed underneath their shoes and John drew his gun as they got closer to the door. They bunkered against the concrete wall to calm their breathing when John gave his friend a lingering look.

"When do you think the police will get here?" he asked Sherlock who leaned against the pillar.

"Not in time before that poor girl is dead I'm afraid." he answered him and brought out his own gun before he turned to his friend. "Are you ready?" Once again, Watson calmed his nerves with some deep breaths, then he nodded. The door was opened with the force of Sherlocks kick and her tossed himself into the velvet darkness with his gun pointing to the nothingness. He stood there quiet for a couple of seconds, listening, only hearing his own heart and breaths, water dripping into to the puddles on the floor. The room was to large to see the end in this darkness, but far away, he could see the light shining around a closed door. "John?"

The doctor was the first one to take a step further and the detective followed him shortly. "John." he said again as they sneaked closed to the mysterious door. "I can't guarantee what's behind that door. It might be the end of us both."

"Well." John began and shook his head from side to side. "Then we've had a good run together, haven't we?"
"I must agree, my dear John." Sherlock smirked and gave him a sentimental look. "I'm glad you've coped with me all these years." The doctor grinned and felt his heart skip a beat as his friend laid a hand on the door nob. Sherlock gave him a questioning glance and he nodded.

The door opened and the beam of light was so bright that it blinded them both. A gun was fired and the both men bunkered against the wall again with the door between them.

"Wait! Wait!" John could hear himself shout and Sherlock rolled his eyes before he looked at him.

"Wait for what?" he asked silently and John groaned loudly and grasped his beating heart.

"So you found me?" a voice said loudly and they could hear the sobbing of the young child.
"Please, mr Rain, let the girl go!" Sherlock shouted and glanced at the opening.

"Oh, the girl is not in your concern any more!" mr Rain smirked and they heard him stepping around in the room

"John." Sherlock whispered and held up three fingers and pointed to the left. John understood and felt his military nerves slow down the time around him. He was a better shooter that Sherlock and they both knew it, so it was now his responsibility to take them out; his heart slowed down, his breathing calmed and he blinked to get his eyes ready for heavy focus. Then he attacked, he turned and reached his arm out and fired three times, but there was the sound of five. He let out an awful cry and pulled back against the wall, painfully grabbing his arm.

"John!?" Sherlock shouted and the doctor looked for his gun in the middle of the door way.

"One on the right." he said quickly and Sherlock loaded his gun, walked inside with confident steppes and shot the last guard, then pointed his gun at mr Rain that was holding a knife against the child's fragile neck.

"It's over mr Rain, put the knife down and let the girl go." he ordered and and gave the poor girl a quick glance to make sure she wasn't hurt.

"I will say when it's over!" mr Rain screamed in anger, making the girl whimper in fear. "Give me what I asked for!"

"The documents you asked for doesn't exist!" Sherlock shouted and the young man giggled like the maniac he was.

"What do you mean?" he asked and pulled the child's hair, forcing her closer to the side how his face, his breath sending soft winds to her cheek.

"They burned." he answered calmly. "Your sister never put them in the safety deposit. They burned with her."

"What!?" Mr Rain grimaced his anger and disappointment. "You're lying!"

"No, Mr Rain." he groaned. "There are no documents, your codes, your money are gone. You lost before you even started."

"YOU'RE LYING!" he screamed and pressed the blade closer to the child's skin, she let out a cry and stared at Sherlock with pleading eyes. "GIVE THEM TO ME!"

"There are no documents!" Sherlock shouted again and loaded his gun to menace the criminal. "Now, let the girl go!" Mr Rain let out an awful cry, every limb on his body trembled in anger and he pulled back. The child sprinted across the room and took hold of the detectives coat, pressing herself close to him to feel the safety of his salvation. He placed a peaceful hand on top of her head and lowered his gun, the man was beside himself, pulling his hair, crying and screaming.

"I'm sorry, mr Rain." he said with a low voice and the man let out a giggle with those words.

"You're not sorry." he said and turned to face the wall behind him. "Don't you pity me!" Without a warning, mr Rain turned with a gun in his hand, but Sherlock was quicker on the hand. Three shots were fired, one by Sherlock and one by mr Rain who now was falling to the floor, dead.

With the heart in his throat he turned to the door and saw his dear friend standing with the weapon in his hand that had caused the death of mr Rain.

"Very good, John." he said and lifted the child into his arms when his friend did something unexpected. The gun fell to the floor as he stepped back to the wall and slid down to the wet floor, hand pressed to his left side. "John!?" Sherlock hurried over the floor and put the crying child down beside them, he gave her a piercing stare.
"You need to be brave now little girl." he said holding her hand as comfort. "I need to take care of my friend and you need to do anything I tell you."

"Please, Sherlock." John moaned painfully, blood flowing down his fingers. "She's only a child." But the girl sucked up her tears and nodded bravely.

"Okay." she said and Sherlock gave her a big smile before he turned to his friend again. "You're a brave girl, what's your name?" He unbuttoned John's dark grey shirt and removed his hand from the wound so he could take a look at it.

"Shirley." she answered and John let out a painful laugh.

"Beautiful name. I'm Sherlock, and this is my friend John. Shirley, in my left pocket i my coat there's a phone. Take it and call the police department. Tell them Holmes are waiting for them and that we are in a need of an ambulance." Sherlock placed his hand on the wound and placed as much pressure on it as he could; John cried out in pain and grasped his arm, moaning and groaning.

"Is it bad?" he asked hoarsely after he'd caught his breath again.

"You're the doctor, you tell me." Sherlock said and the blood pumped between his fingers. The doctor looked down and saw the amount of blood on his clothes and floor, he quickly closed his eyes again and his head fell back to the wall.

"Yeah, it's bad." he groaned and coughed painfully.

"Keep talking to me, John! Stay awake!" Sherlock shouted and applied more pressure to the wound, he turned to the girl who held the phone to her ear, shaking of the chock and pale of the sight of blood. "They're not answering?" She shook her head and he cursed in anger. "Okay, hang up. Press the down button and you'll get to my contacts, look for the name Lestrade, mention my name and tell him the exact same thing that I told you before." She nodded and looked down on the phone again. He turned to his friend who was about to faint before him. "JOHN!" He opened his eyes again and looked up to the roof full of pipes and cables. "Keep talking!" John took drew a short breath and blinked.

"I'm still surprised that you didn't know the earth circulates around the sun." he said with a weak smile and Sherlock pressed his lips together and made a disappointed face, this was the last thing he wanted to talk about.

"It's an unimportant fact. It does me no good."

"Yes, but everyone knows it." he smirked and his head tipped to the side.

"Holmes told me to tell you that we are waiting for you and we need an ambulance." the girl repeated and the detective gave her a smile.

"Good girl, hang up." She followed his command like her life depended on it and put the phone back in his pocket.

"He said they're two minutes away." she said and looked at John with big brown eyes. "Is he going to be okay."

"Of course." he said quickly, but was unsure about his friend's condition. Shirley turned back at Sherlock and wiped her flowing tears.

"You really didn't know that the earth circles around the sun?" The smile disappeared from Sherlocks face with that question but John let out another tired laugh.

"You see?" he said. "Everyone knows it." The detective blinked and groaned, he was annoyed by the two unintelligent humans teasing him and he started to pay more attention to the wound, shutting them out.

"Just keep talking, John. Stay awake."

The doctor started to get pale and he blinked tiredly, he was sitting in a pool of his own blood; Sherlock had never felt so useless. There was nothing he could do to help more than holding him. "John, don't you dare to leave me, you're the only one I can stand to live with and you're the one paying for that place. If you die I would have to move out." John smiled and snorted.

"You're telling me that the apartment is more important than my life?"

"There is no apartment if you're dead." Sherlock grinned but could feel the tears burn the back of his eyes. He'd never felt this way before, for the first time in his life he was actually worried to lose someone. He actually cared for another person; jesus, he couldn't let John see him emotional.

Then, as a salvation from god, they heard the sirens from the closing in police force, but John's fragile thread of life was about to brake, his breathing hitch and it was only harder to keep his eyes open.

"John?" he pleaded and removed one of his hands from the wound to cradle his head. "John!? Don't you dare!" With misty eyes he stared at his friend, blinking tiredly and fighting the urge to take a nap. "I'm telling you John, if you let this wound be your destruction I wont bury you in a nice place." John just smiled and made a final effort to grasp the sleeve on Sherlocks coat.

"Then... don't let me die."

Beep, beep, beep... The sound repeated itself constantly and he groaned irritably as it woke him up. He lifted his arm out to silence his alarm clock when a awful pain tore through his sore body and someone place a warm hand upon his chest.

"John?" That voice was well known to him and he tried to open his heavy eyelids. "John, can you hear me?" He tilted his pulsating head to the side and felt tubes cling to his face.

"Sherlock." he mouthed and felt a warm touch in his cheek.

"Yes, John. I'm here." His cloaked vision became brighter and clearer for each second that passed, Sherlock was standing beside him, face unshaved and a bed head worth to print into his mind.

"How long have I've been out?" he asked, voice weak and words slurred by the heavy medication he'd been given.

"Long enough." Sherlock smiled and then he did something he'd never done before. John felt the pain of being pulled up from the bed and into his arms, Sherlock was hugging him. This was probably the most odd situation they'd ever shared. John felt the warm sensation in his heart and wounded his healthy arm around his friend. "Four long days, my friend." There was a long moment of silence, the only sound that was heard was from the machines and the rain smattering against the window. Suddenly, Sherlock let out a long breath and John felt the pressure of the hug loosen around him. "Do you remember when I told you that I'm incapable of feeling fear?" John nodded and felt the smell of coffee in his clothes, envied him for the caffeine his body craved. "Well, you proved me wrong when your heart stopped beating for those three minutes." The detective cradled his head and sighed in pain into his shoulder. "Don't you dare scare me again." he cried out in anger and John found himself speechless in his arms.

"Okay." he promised and felt something wet his his neck. "Sherlock, are you crying?" The detective pulled back and John landed on the bed again. He watched his friend as he turned his back at him, pulling his hair and groaning.

"No." he said and sniffled, walking around in the room in the same clothes he'd worn the day he got shot; he'd literary stayed by his side during his recovery. Were there something there that John had missed about him, John would lie if he said he hadn't been having feelings for his friend.

And he was surprised, Sherlock hated hospitals, avoided them as much as he could as long as it didn't involve the morgue, cutting bodies open for proof.

"Sherlock?" he asked with a breath and tried to sit up in the bed, but he quickly fell back again with a hand pressed to his swollen waist, groaning in pain. He felt a warm hand on his chest again and he looked up at Sherlock who wiped his tears with the back of his sleeve.

"Don't move." he said and pinched his nose as he sniffled. "The doctor said you shouldn't try to move, your stitches might tear."

"I'll be alright." he mumbled and and looked around the room. He saw the cough with blankets and pillows, Sherlock had been living here with him.

"Sherlock, why have you been doing this?"

"Doing what?" he asked and fell down on the chair beside the bed, holding his hand on John's wrist. John swallowed with a dry throat and let out a whimper when he felt the pain.

"You're not the person who cares." he said. "Don't misunderstand, but I know you well enough to know that you don't do things like this." The scruffy looking detective opened his mouth to answer him but realised he didn't know what to say; he quickly closed it again and turned it into a weak smile.

"I can't explain it." he grinned and tears started to fall again, he wiped them before they reached his chin and cleared his throat. "I'm... I'm not used to... these emotions coming over me." He looked at John with a exhausted face. John frowned, pulled back his arm so that he could take Sherlock's warm hand.

"Are you trying to tell me that you care for once?" he asked and felt his eyes burn of the upcoming tears. There really was something there that had gone unnoticed and to his relief, Sherlock nodded, he actually nodded. "You've never cared before."

"Not for anyone else, no." Sherlock snorted, quite chocked by his human behaviour. John shrugged and did what he could to keep the tears away.

"So..." he said and cleared his throat as pain free as he could and felt a tear fall down to his right ear.

"John, I... " Sherlock began and turned to face the window. Dark clouds were floating over London, giving it that dull appearance you could expect from this city. It was impossible for him not to cry, what had driven him to this madness, why couldn't he control himself? He turned back to his friend and closed both his hands around John's. "I've think I've come to the conclusion that I actually can't live without you." The doctor pressed his lips together and blinked away the tears, he had the mind and heart of a military, and yet, he felt so weak.

"What, because of my money?" he asked and held back a sob.

"No." Sherlock smirked and leaned closer to the bed. "I just can't live without... you." John didn't even realise he was smiling, his cheeks were burning wildly, his heart monitor embarrassed him by monitoring his increasing heartbeats.

"Oh dammit." he groaned and pulled the sticker of his chest, the machine silenced. "I..." he began and coughed slightly. "Sherlock, I... I don't think I could live without you either."

Sherlock couldn't take their lack of intimacy anymore, he flew up from the chair and cupped Johns pale face, pressed his lips against John's forehead. He lingered like that for a few seconds and could feel John trembling in the bed.

"Are you alright?" he worriedly asked and his friend nodded.

"Yes." he mouthed and got a hold of Sherlock's collar, pulled him down until his lips hovered over his own. "Are you?" Sherlock observed him like he was one of his object in the lab, fascinated and ready for experiments, but he didn't answer his question. He closed in on John and soon enough their lips met in a passionate kiss. John could feel a jolt of happiness flow through his sore body like a wave and he softened his dry lips, he had been wanting this for way to long.

Sherlock was the one to end the kiss and nearly collapsed over his friend, holding his head close to his chest, breathing heavily in his ear.

"Don't you ever die on me!" he said, voice stuck between sobbing and laughing. "Don't you dare scaring me again." The doctor just smiled, happy about the spark in his chest that Sherlock had started to fan into a fire.

"I'll do my best." he promised and stroking his hand back an forth over Sherlock's shoulder blade; he really loved that man.

"I care about you, John." he sighed and stroke his thumb back and forth over his temple.

"I care about you too, Sherlock." he confessed and couldn't help himself, he needed to smell those dark curls on his head. He pulled him closer to his body, felt the pressure on his wound as Sherlocks bodyweight landed on him, but he didn't care. The dark hair smelled of sweat and cigarets. "I thought you would quit smoking?"

"Not a good week for that." he grinned tiredly and stroke his hair lovingly. John snorted and closed his eyes again, to tired for these emotions.

"It never is." he said and fell back into deep sleep in Sherlock's arms. The detective didn't notice that he was unconscious until John's arm fell back on the bed.

"John?" he asked and lifted his head to look at him, he was told that the medication would make him tired but the fact that John just fallen asleep during a conversation made him smirk. He closed in on him again, cheeks touched and the tip of his nose brushed against John's ear.

"I might not know that the world circles around the sun, but I'm positive that my world circles around you."

Please, leave a review. This story will become slash in next or lated chapters, just so you know ;)