A/N: Reuploaded from my AO3 account: Harta
Of Blankets and Care
When Mrs. Hudson heard a faint "thud" coming from the room of none other than Sherlock Holmes, she knew that she had to investigate.
She climbed the stairs. It was well past midnight. She wondered what the young man was up to. She could never forget the day that she opened the fridge of his room to come across thumbs in a plastic bag, and when she walked in the room to see Sherlock shooting at the wall with his pistol.
She wondered what it was now.
Upon reaching the door, she hesitated.
What was she going to come across now?
Mrs. Hudson knocked lightly, opening her mouth to let out her trademark greeting. There was no reply.
"…Sherlock?" she then lightly asked. "Is everything all right in there?"
She waited for more than a minute for his reply, but heard nothing. Finally, she tried the knob. The door swung open.
"Sherlock?"
She gingerly walked into the room, slowly, step-by-step. Still she didn't see the man she was looking for, so she cautiously began searching the rooms. She made her way to the kitchen.
What she saw touched her heart.
Sherlock Holmes's eyes were closed, his body hunched over, his breathing steady and gentle. He was sitting on a chair, though his head was lying in his arms that were sprawled all over the kitchen table. On the kitchen table itself were endless stacks of paper, his microscope, and various chemical and science tools. He looked like in the middle of a vigorous experiment.
But now, he was fast asleep.
And on the floor was a skull. Sherlock's precious skull, to be exact.
Mrs. Hudson huffed. She thought that she had confiscated that skull a couple weeks ago. But it didn't surprise her that Sherlock had managed to get it back.
Oh, Sherlock.
She sighed and tutted. "Dear Sherlock, please know your limits. This must be the sixth night that the lights in your room were on. Did you not sleep the whole time?"
She took a couple steps closer towards him. She noticed how John's favorite winter coat wasn't anywhere to be seen. Sherlock's friend must be spending the night at a girlfriend's house…Or something along the lines of that.
Mrs. Hudson examined Sherlock's face. He looked so peaceful, so calm… so peaceful that it looked like there wasn't a problem in the world. Judging by the position of his body, it was more than clear that he fell asleep without intending to. She sighed. "You were so caught up in this experiment that you threw rest out the window, eh, Sherlock?"
But now she smiled warmly, as if she were gazing upon her own son. It was then that she realized how cold it was. She shivered, rubbing her arms.
"It's freezing, Sherlock," she said. "And you're wearing nothing but your pants and shirt."
She shook her head again. "Sherlock, no matter how fantastic you are, you're still human. You can still catch a cold. Look at you, you're shivering."
Mrs. Hudson walked back to the living room, searching, and quickly found a thick blanket lying on the couch. She grabbed it, walked back quietly to the kitchen, and lightly placed the blanket on the shoulders of the sleeping Sherlock. She gently and carefully wrapped the blanket around his body.
Then he stirred.
Mrs. Hudson quickly drew back, afraid that she had awakened him. But no, Sherlock sneezed without opening his eyes, without waking up, and continued to sleep.
Mrs. Hudson smiled. "I hope that you're warm and comfortable now."
Then she bent down and picked up the skull, and tucked it under Sherlock's hand. She began to leave the kitchen and turned off the lights.
The room was engulfed in darkness. From the window, the stars twinkled in the sky.
"Goodnight, Sherlock," she whispered softly, looking at the sleeping figure. Then she turned around and left the room.
The next morning, John returned just as Sherlock began to stir and wake up.
"How was it, Sherlock?" John asked, walking up to his friend, closing the door of their flat behind him. "Did you find anything that pleases you? Anything that made you feel all warm and fuzzy inside?"
Sherlock curled his fingers around the blanket that was wrapped around him. His eyes roamed around, and the consultant detective did a couple of quick deductions.
Skull on table. There was a faint indentation on the floor next to the chair where he now sat. Skull had fallen on off table onto floor. Skull was put back on table.
The small hint of Mrs. Hudson's perfume on the blanket.
A tiny bit of nail polish on the fabric too, the nail polish that their land lady was currently using.
A warm blanket. Very very warm.
And then he smiled.
"Yes," Sherlock answered. "Yes, I did."
end
A/N:
I just love the unique friendship between Sherlock and Mrs. Hudson.
Mrs. Hudson is such a sweet little lady! :)
Comments/feedbacks totally make my day :D Thank you for reading!