I'm a back! Forgive me for updating like an old turtle but I am starting to…work… (shudder) But here is a late, late Christmas present to all of you! Hope you enjoy and review if you are up to it!? Warnings in this chapter for tears. I promise this is going to get much better …And you all better be ready for hopefully the biggest plot twist of your lives! Not really…But anyway, enjoy!

~Lizzie

26 hours, 49 minutes and 27 seconds. 5 mugs of coffee, 4 trips to the bathroom, 7 anxious calls, 3 mental breakdowns, and 0 hours of sleep.

John was completely and utterly exhausted, his eyes fluttering and fighting the incessant tugging of gravity as he willed himself to stay awake in his hunched position by Mycroft who was doing just as well as he was, possibly worst if that was even a possibility. But all of the weights of exhaustion, anxiety and hunger was wiped out and overpowered by complete worry when the Doctor entered bleary eyed and covered in blood. Both men shot to their feet and crowded the swaying surgeon, begging him with their blood shot eyes for answers.

"Good Morning, Gentleman. I have Great news, good news and bad news and worse news. Which one do you want to hear first?" He gave an encouraging smile that seemed more of a grimace.

"Great news first preferably." John whispered hoarsely, God knows they needed something positive.

The surgeon nodded before removing his glasses, folding them and slowly putting them away, stalling the inevitable much to their distaste.

Dr. Tyler huffed a sigh and bit his inner check before speaking, "Great news: The surgery was successful," John let out the breath he hadn't known he had been holding, "He will need more to help reconstruct the muscles of his back and the rest of him, but his broken bones have been pinned and casted and will hopefully heal. He is stable now, warmed up and receiving a steady flow of oxygen."

John's heart was a flutter, the bones were back in place, Sherlock still had a chance to heal. And even if the odds of him running around like the lunatic he is were slim to none, there was a chance. A tiny sliver of hope in the thunderous, never-ceasing whirlwind that they had been caught in. Sherlock was on his way to recovery, a small step. But a step nonetheless. But even if the physical scars and wounds healed and Sherlock would be able to live the rest of his life in relative comfort, there would still be the emotional scars and mental pain that would never cease to torment him in his nightmares and reality.

John could only hope that he would be enough to fill the void of sorrow and terror in his friend's soul with hope and peace.

Dr. Tyler's voice brought him back.

"Good news: His larger scars can be easily corrected with future surgeries so he won't need to live with that."

And that right there. "He won't need to live with that." Implied that the Doctor thought he might survive, and even though it could possibly go all wrong from here, that simple reassurance calmed John and Mycroft immensely.

"Now, as for the bad news: I am not sure if he will ever walk again. The damage to his ankles is quite severe, and he will most definitely need assistance for the rest of his life. Have you considered a facility to care for him?"

John audibly gasped at this point as Mycroft shook his head disappointedly.

"No, I will not have him in a strange place with strangers caring for him. Mycroft and I spoke about it, we'll care for him." John clenched and unclenched his fists as he couldn't bear the thought of leaving Sherlock alone, abandoned ever again.

Dr. Tyler seemed pleased at his response, "Good, I think that would be most beneficial to him as well. And as for the rest of the bad news, I have yet to receive an answer as to whether or not he is STI free and if his blindness can be repaired. But I will notify you both as soon as the news comes in."

The wait would be one of the longest of his life. But with Mycroft pulling the strings, they would have the answers shortly and the best Doctors on the job for Sherlock.

John and Mycroft both doted on his every breath, waiting for the next words, because now was the worse news, and what could possibly be worse than the preceded events?

The Doctor looked up at them through his spectacles briefly before letting out a deliberately, agonizingly long breath.

"And the worse news Is a bit hard, especially after all you three have been too. And I want you to have my sincerest apologies."

Wait a damn second.

Everything was starting to look up, like he would heal, like he may be himself again.

Like John might have him back. After the Hell he went through only to feel an ounce of relief and now a ton of terror.

"I believe the shock of the surgery was a bit too much for his body to bear. He fell into a coma."

John's heart stopped. It fell down to his knees before slowly crawling back up, nestling itself back in place and resuming its beating.

"Oh." That was all he managed to say. Mycroft remained silent.

"We aren't sure when, or if he will wake up. But stay positive, he has held on this long. He's a strong man. He's in recovery; you may go see him when you are ready." With a final tight lipped smile the Doctor left them alone.

John's mind was swirling with thousands of things to say, to scream, to cry to do something.

"Oh."

Mycroft nodded, understanding the underlying meaning behind the single syllable.

"Indeed, "The elder Holmes whispered.

John sat in the nearest hard plastic chair and sank deeply. Not ready to face his friend yet.

"Mycroft?" John's voice cracked and he deliberately swallowed hard. Mycroft regarded him with an elegant brow.

"What if he doesn't wake up? What if we went through all this, he survived, Moriarty is finally gone and he dies because of Shock!" John spit the last word with disdain.

Mycroft opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted.
"This is so unfair! I lose him twice and now I may not even get him back because of shock! Not from jumping off a goddamn building. Shock. Sherlock Holmes in SHOCK." John stood abruptly and breathed even breaths, too even. Then he laughed. A laugh that sounded more like a manic cackle, Mycroft regarded him carefully, not daring to speak. And just as suddenly as the laugher began it stopped and was replaced by silent tears.

"He's my best friend, he can't leave me. I would die without him. I can't-he musn't-I just- GOD WHY DO I HAVE TO LOVE HIM SO MUCH!"

And with that final truth revealed John's heart broke as it realized just how much that skinny annoying bloke meant to him. He was more than a friend. He was-is his brother, his soulmate.

Mycroft stood awkwardly, not knowing what to do. This goldfish just admitted he loved his little brother.

When John's crying became audible, Mycroft approached him gently and placed a light hand on his shoulder.

"There, there, John. He will pull through. Give him some credit. We both know he has cheated death before." The supposed to be encouraging words did nothing for the good Doctor. "And if he doesn't pull through soon, we both know the best option-"

That got his attention. John bolted straight up and glared at Mycroft with red-rimmed eyes.

"You can't be considering-"John began and sniffed.

"Oh, I am." Mycroft answered coolly, not a hint of emotion in his face.

"But what you said in the corridor! What we have gone through over the past two years! And now you're going to give up on him just as he has begun again!" John practically screamed.

"Listen to me. John. You are speaking as if you are the only one who has lost him. I lost him too. Far before all of this. I lost him the days Father beat him senseless. I lost him the days that Mother neglected him. I lost him all those years ago. My baby brother died as a child. That man is not my brother. He is his ghost. And I wish I could have my brother back but I can't! I never can and I never will! And I wish every day that I would have done something, but I didn't, I didn't know how severe he was suffering! I DID NOT KNOW!" He roared with an unhinged self-hatred that John has never seen in anyone ever before. And after silent moments of watching each other, the Elder Holmes averted his gaze and whispered.

"I didn't know. Until it was too late. My Brother is gone. And I will do what is best for him now. If he doesn't pull through I will have it arranged so that he won't. Because John- he's back from the dead, but not alive. Not even close." And with that Mycroft turned and left boots clicking along the dark corridor. Leaving John to pace with fingers yanking at his hair praying to someone, anyone who would listen.

Bring him back.

A/N: Next chapter up soon. If anyone is still reading this… XD