A/N: Has everyone else got that error 503 thing as well? It really bugged me. I couldn't leave reviews on anything, never mind favouriting or following! So yeah. Anyway, stories up now, so enjoy!
As they came to Sherlock's room Molly stopped to look at them. "This is the circumstances." Molly said quietly before opening the door and marching in.
She could hear Jane whisper to Lestrade before they entered the room.
Jane stood by the doorway unable to reconcile what was in front of her. There on the bed, was Sherlock hooked up to several IVs and a ventilator. It was like every nightmare she'd ever had crashed into fruition at that moment.
Suddenly, the concussion she was certainly harbouring throbbed nastily, and she stumbled.
"Woah there, Janey," Greg says and steadies her.
'Wha - what? How is this even possible? He - we just split up for a moment! He texted me, told me he was headed back to the flat for information."
"Molly," Greg says, and steers Jane to one of the plastic chairs next to Sherlock's bedside. His face was grey. "What's going on?"
Sighing Molly sat across from them. "Greg. You were here yesterday. Please don't make me tell you what happened."
Greg however just looked confused and Molly sighed. "We had been heading to Bart's after examining a corpse, why he dragged me along with him I have no idea, but as we were travelling back in the cab this speeding car came towards us. Towards me. Sherlock jumped over and put himself between me and the car. They found shrapnel in his shoulder, that if he hadn't been in the way, would have been in my heart."
Not being able to look up at their faces anymore Molly decided to close her eyes instead. "Greg, Jane, Sherlock was not breathing. I was unconscious at the time, but you told me later Greg what had happened. And now this has happened." Molly said gesturing at her own head. "He won't leave me alone!"
Jane's mind was reeling. She couldn't make heads or tails of it. She licked her lips.
"Are you...telling me that..." she faltered, and scanned Molly's face. There was a flicker of something...the way Molly's eyes gleamed under the fluorescent lights that reminded her so much of Sherlock. That and the coat... "Are you saying that Sherlock...your Sherlock...is in your head?"
"Don't be ridiculous," Greg said. He looked just as lost as she felt. "What do you mean her Sherlock?"
"Look at him, Greg," Jane said indicating the still form on the bed. His chest rose softly in time with the mechanical whirring of the ventilator. "Really look. That's not the Sherlock we know."
Greg frowned. "Then who the bloody hell is he?"
"I may be able to answer that," Molly suddenly piped up.
"You are just a female version of our John. And seemingly by the state you're now in Sherlock isn't in a coma in your world. So. My best guess is you two are from another dimension." Molly was completely serious, as was Jane, but Greg couldn't help but snort.
"Really? You expect us to believe that?" Greg challenged.
"I do. I thought you always trusted Sherlock Greg. Which brings me to your point Jane. I have somehow managed to become 'telepathic'. I now have an annoying git stuck in my head." Molly surprised slightly at how she had actually offended Sherlock opted for sitting down on Sherlock's bed so as to comfortably have her back to her guests.
Jane laughed. "Berk." She muttered under her breath, but Molly still managed to make it out, smirking a little as she took Sherlock's hand.
"Watch this." She said and held out her free hand for Jane to take. "Close your eyes."
Jane looked to Greg, and his eyebrows rose to his hairline.
"You can't be serious!" he said.
"I hope to god I am, because I can't bear it if this is reality," she said, and reached for Molly's hand. Before she grasped it, she took a deep breath and closed her eyes.