FIVE- Two Out Of Three

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Anita was sitting on the edge of Sherlock's bed in the hospital, holding his hand with one of her hand's and the other combing occasionally through his hair. He was currently asleep, but Anita wasn't going anywhere. Even when the doctors patched her up, she demanded to be in Sherlock's room. Anita's eyes were a bit puffy and red, showing that she had been crying. The nurse from earlier, Nurse Cornish, walked in and offered Anita a smile that she returned, half heartedly.

"Hi," she said and Anita hummed just to show that she acknowledged that Nurse Cornish was there. Anita sighed softly before running her hand through Sherlock's hair again, pushing back some of his curls.

"I'm sure he'll pull through. And yeah, he's made a terrible mess of himself, but he's awfully strong, so we must look on the bright side," Nurse Cornish commented, trying to cheer Anita up. Anita turned to look at her, smiling tightly. She had heard that same speech from all different kinds of doctors before.

"I hope so," Anita replied, like she always did. Anita then turned back to Sherlock, rubbing her thumb over his knuckles as the door opened.

"Oh, hi. Just in to say hello?" Nurse Cornish asked the new person.

"No, I'm just in to say goodbye," John corrected and Anita spared him a glance, noticing his old walking cane in his hand.

"John? What are you...?" Anita started to ask when John lifted up his cane and leaned it against a nearby chair.

"Parting gift," John stated and Anita stared at him.

"Ah, that's nice. A walking stick?" Nurse Cornish asked with a small smile.

"Yeah, it was mine from a long time ago," John replied and an awkward silence followed as Nurse Cornish excused herself.

"So, this is what breaks us, huh? This is the end?" Anita asked, continuing to stare at her sleeping husband. If she even glanced at John, she would certainly burst into tears. I mean, she killed his wife, why wouldn't it be the end?

"I'm sorry, Anita. But...I...can't...do this...anymore," John replied, slowly. Anita sucked in a breath and huffed it back out.

"Fine. Goodbye, John Watson. Have a nice life," Anita replied, coldly. John swallowed before nodding his head and making his way towards the door when the hospital phone rang. Anita and John both snapped the head over to it before Anita, reluctantly, let go of Sherlock's hand and picked up the phone.

"Hello?" Anita asked, avoiding John's gaze. If he wanted to leave, Anita wasn't going to stop him.

"There is a car downstairs, waiting for you and John," Mycroft said on the other side of the phone. Anita opened her mouth to argue, but Mycroft hung up first. Anita's brow furrowed as she slowly put the phone down again.

"Let me guess: Mycroft?" John asked and Anita would have laughed if things were normal.

"He's sent a car for us," Anita told him as she looked over at Sherlock, weighing her options. John sighed, glancing over at Anita.

"Well, we better go. Can't keep the Queen waiting," he commented with a smirk and Anita smiled slightly before walking over to Sherlock's bed, leaning over and kissing his cheek softly.

"You better be here when we get back, mister," Anita whispered to him before straightening up and walking out of the room with John. A sizable distance between the two, not something either of the duo were used to.

Unknown to John and Anita, once they left a paneled wall opposite Sherlock's bed began to move. Culverton emerged from behind it, wearing surgical gloves. He pushed the wall back into its original position before walking over to a chair and sitting down, facing Sherlock. 

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