Disclaimer: I own nothing.

A/N: Set at some point following "The Great Game." Quote spoilers.

He got it wrong. Usually it happened when he was deducing facts about a particular person; he would get something just slightly off. But never on a case, until now. It was so simple really. Sherlock believed the meeting place for the gang of jewel thieves was inside the warehouse, but instead it was the garden on the roof. Stupid. Such a stupid mistake.

And now he was paying for it, sitting in an uncomfortable chair, listening to the monotonous beeping of machines, and counting every breath that came from the man in the hospital bed. One simple mistake…

The thieves were all caught, but the lack of surprise led to a shootout between them and the police. In all of the ruckus, no one noticed the ringleader trying to escape. That is, no one but Sherlock and John.

They went after him of course, but he pulled a gun on Sherlock, catching them by surprise. Sherlock heard the sound of two gunshots, only realizing what had happened when he saw both the thief and John on the ground. John had pushed him out of the way, effectively saving Sherlock's life with no thought to his own well-being. Classic John Watson.

He was going to be fine, according to his doctors. But Sherlock wouldn't be able to rest any easier until John was awake and writing a blog entry or laughing at him for keeping vigil by his bedside. He couldn't help but run everything over in his mind wondering how he could have gotten it so wrong, replaying scenarios, and considering what would have happened if the bullet had been just a little farther left.

"I will burn the heart out of you," whispered a voice in his mind.

No. Not now. Not today. Because today, John would be fine.

As Sherlock watched the rise and fall of his partner's chest, he thought of a conversation they had several weeks previously. It was not often that Sherlock Holmes changed his mind, but in this case he needed to make an exception.

"Don't make people into heroes John. Heroes don't exist and if they did I wouldn't be one of them."

It was true that Sherlock was no hero, at least not in his own mind. But John Watson…if anyone could be called a hero, it would be him. That was just one of many realizations Sherlock had come to while sitting in the hospital room, but the rest were better kept for another time.

"Sherlock? Have you been here all night?"

As he looked up, his eyes met those of a formerly sleeping doctor who was gazing quizzically at him. Sherlock nodded in response to the question and allowed himself a brief smile. John was awake. His John was going to be just fine.