Title: Love you through it
Summary: Something is wrong with Sherlock, and it's up to John to see if he can hold them both together and come out breathing on the other side. For my lovely BlooMist. Eventual John/Sherlock
Rating: T (Rating may go up)
Disclaimer: Sadly, I own no part of the BBC's Sherlock, nor Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's eternal characters Sherlock Holmes and John Watson. I just like to play with them.
February 21st, 2012- Attention my wonderful readers, if you got an alert from me I am sad to say that I took down my second chapter to re-write it. I realised that I wanted to do more with it and hopefully I'll get it to you soon!
"Damn it all!" The exclamation was all John heard before the sound of glass breaking up against a wall. He padded up the stairs to their flat, anxiously quickening his steps. Sherlock liked to throw fits, but this was...different. Something had been wrong with the consulting detective for a while now; he was more agitated, more frustrated than usual. John would have wrote it off as boredom between cases, but that wasn't it. Lestrade had just handed them a particularly difficult case that seemed to be a puzzle even for Sherlock. No, this was definitely different. That thought alone had John racing into the living room of their flat, eyes searching for Sherlock as they always did. He was sitting on the couch, dressing gown billowing out around him, his hands covering his face, shoulders tense. John could see the straining in his neck and knew the detective's jaw was clenched.
"Sherlock?"
The detective didn't respond, but instead uncovered his face, his mouth set in a pout. John was too busy staring at him, worry lining his features, that he almost missed it. Almost missed the tremor that ran through Sherlock's hands as he hastily shoved them into the pockets of his robe, effectively hiding them from view.
John's eyes narrowed in suspicion as he lowered himself onto the couch next to his friend. "Sherlock... What's wrong with your hand?"
Sherlock sighed and went to run a hand over his face before he stopped himself. Not good. "It's nothing John. I'm fine."
"Well you don't look it. Let me see your hand."
Sherlock ignored him in favour of reaching for his cell phone, with his left hand.
"Sherlock I'm serious. Just let me see your damn hand!"
"I said I'm fine John! Now stop fussing and leave me ALONE!"
With that, Sherlock turned to the side in a fury of cloth, curling his knees up and burying his head in the cushion of the couch.
"Fine Sherlock! If you're going to act like a bloody child about it then fine! See if I care!" John stormed into the kitchen and busied himself with making some tea. He unconsciously began preparing one for Sherlock, but thought better of it and left the cup on the table. If he's going to be like this then he can bloody well get it himself! The doctor stalked into the living room, his eyes searching for his laptop. Of course Sherlock used it. God forbid he go across the room to get his own, no, that was too much WORK. John sighed and went to the side of the couch that Sherlock was sitting on, set down his tea and grumbled as he picked up his laptop, all the while staring daggers at his friend. The detective paid him no mind. John was struck with sudden inspiration. He took his laptop and settled down in the spot he had just vacated on the other side of Sherlock. He focused on keeping his voice as neutral as possible and addressed his flatmate.
"Damn. Hey Sherlock? Would you mind handing me my tea?"
Sherlock turned to him, his eyes suspicious. John just stared back, meeting his eyes with defiance. He did not try to hide his true intentions, he knew Sherlock couldn't resist a challenge. Sherlock knew John knew this little fact about him and glared as he reached down to where John had left the cup on the floor. The army doctor's eyes darted to the reaching hand, watching it's progress. Sherlock sighed and handed the cup over in a weak, shaking grip, knowing that he wasn't getting out of this now. John was very protective, and any sign of illness automatically brought out a new brand of stubbornness in the man. He was a doctor after all.
John's arm shot out and captured Sherlock's wrist while his other removed the cup from his grasp and set it down on the cluttered coffee table. He looked over the limb while observing the slight tremors, settled now that the stress of grasping the small object was gone. He looked up at Sherlock but the man refused to meet his eyes. He held on to the hand, turning it over and studying the delicate fingers. His own hand rubbed soothingly along the pale skin, but he was lost in his thoughts and unconscious of the intimate touch. Since when does Sherlock shake? The man may be a ball of energy, but he always moves with such grace, not spastic like this. He looked down to it's pair sitting limply in Sherlock's lap. The left was nowhere near as bad as Sherlock's dominant hand, barely twitching in it's place on his thigh. John frowned, there was much more to this then a nervous reaction.
He looked up again to see Sherlock staring at the hands caressing his, and John stopped his movements but kept the hand when the detective's mouth began to form a pout of disappointment. "Sherlock, how long has your hand been shaking like this?"
Sherlock looked up and tried to pull the offending limb away. John gripped it tight, there was no way the man was going to avoid his questions. Sherlock glared at him but answered anyway.
"I noticed the tremors nearly two and a half weeks ago."
"Two weeks! Your hand has been shaking for weeks and you didn't bother to mention it?" John said indignantly, his voice rising.
"There is no need to shout John. It is not my fault you are so terribly unobservant."
"Unobservant? For God's sake Sherlock! You were hiding it from me!"
"No excuses John."
The doctor huffed in annoyance. "Don't make this about me Sherlock. This could be serious. Have you noticed any other symptoms? Pain? Nausea? Vertigo? Anything else?"
The detective must have decided that the best course of action was to co-operate. He looked into the blue eyes before him somewhat hesitantly, he knew the good doctor would not take the news well.
"I have also been experiencing frequent migraines and blurry vision. Nothing I can't handle, but bothersome nonetheless." John's hand tightened on his and Sherlock raised his brow. "So what is your diagnosis Doctor? What ails me?" He asked teasingly, pushing the worry to the side in hope that John wouldn't notice. Sherlock may be in denial, but he was no idiot. He knew this was serious.
John did too and his heart was frozen in fear. He was even more alarmed to see the terror in the grey eyes before him, impatience etching the younger man's face. Sherlock may be a skilled actor, but John was skilled in reading Sherlock and saw through the façade.
The doctor went for nonchalance. "Mmhmm, I see. And how long have you been experiencing these other symptoms?"
"The headaches have been around for about a month, but are steadily getting worse. The blurred vision began last Tuesday."
John's act cracked. "That long?" He asked in a small voice. How could he have missed it?
"It isn't your fault John." Sherlock said in the most comforting voice he could manage. John let out a nervous laugh. Sherlock was the one that was ill, but he was trying to keep John together. How absurd.
"Yes well. I just... I should have noticed." John paused and closed his eyes. When he opened them again he found a question in Sherlock's eyes. Right. "Sherlock..." He began gently. "I want to run some tests okay? -At Bart's- I just want to make sure it's nothing serious." He said placatingly.
"I don't like hospitals John. I don't see why you can't just tell me what is wrong."
"Because Sherlock, I have to be certain. And don't you worry, I'm your doctor so I can be with you every step of the way if you'd like."
Sherlock just nodded his assent. The detective went to pull away from John's grasp when terror struck him. John could see it in the widening of his eyes.
"John, what if I? What if I cannot conduct my experiments anymore? If the shake stays? Oh god. John! What if I can no longer play my violin?" The fear in this last statement struck John hard, Sherlock no longer tried to hide his emotions and John could see the pain clearly on his friend's face. "I need to play my violin John."
John's hands moved of their own accord, desperately trying to calm down the man in front of him. They stroked soothing patterns across the detective's wrists and Sherlock's hand relaxed into the touch. "You're going to be fine Sherlock. You still have to play for me on Christmas remember?" Sherlock rolled his eyes, the army doctor was insistent his playing become a holiday tradition, his friend preferring his playing to the original carols of the season. Yet, the request had the desired affect and Sherlock no longer looked so worried. A promise was a promise after all.
John pulled his hands back reluctantly, and picked up his laptop again. He started it up and said "We'll go tomorrow then." decisively to the screen.
Sherlock didn't answer, and instead turned his head and stared out of the window. They sat like that in companionable silence, both lost in their own thoughts and fears.
.oOo.
The next morning had them leaving bright and early for St. Bart's, John having called in a favour for a last minute appointment. They were called into a patient's room and allowed to wait in private.
Sherlock tapped his foot impatiently. "Tell me again why you cannot perform the tests? I do not see the point in waiting around and wasting valuable time when there are more pressing matters to attend to."
"Oh please, Sherlock." John said with a roll of his eyes. "You told me yourself there was nothing you could do for the case until nightfall. There is nothing more important you could possibly be doing right now. And we went over this, I'm a GP. This is not my area of expertise."
At the last comment Sherlock raised his eyebrows and his mouth turned up in a smirk.
"Fine. Maybe, just maybe I wanted a second opinion. This is not a situation to take lightly."
Sherlock seemed to accept this answer and looked up right before the handle on the door began to turn. In walked a woman of about thirty with long, dark, curly red hair. She smiled at them as she reached out to shake Sherlock's hand.
"Good morning gentlemen. I'm Dr. Green, and you must be Mr. Holmes and Dr. Watson, yes?" Her eyes turned to John as she reached for his hand after briefly grasping Sherlock's.
"Yes, I am Dr. Watson, we spoke on the phone, and you can call me John. This is my fr-er- patient, Sherlock Holmes." Sherlock tilted his head in acknowledgement and the woman's eyes shone at John's slip. She had heard of them then.
"Alright Mr. Holmes, John here told me some of your symptoms, but I'd like it if you could tell me anything unusual you may have experienced lately, besides the tremors."
.oOo.
A few hours later saw the pair waiting once again. The morning had been long and full of tests and talking, surprisingly with very few outbursts from one infuriating consulting detective. The stress and seriousness of the situation was wearing thin on the both of them and had even John itching and ready to get back to Baker Street. Luckily, it was not long before Dr. Green returned, smiling slightly as she re-entered the room.
"Alright you two, we're going to have to wait for the results, but until then Sherlock," she stared pointedly at the detective. "Please tell Dr. Watson of any new or worsening symptoms. He has my number. I expect to receive the results by Thursday, so I'll be in touch. Take care gentlemen." And with that, the woman left, effectively dismissing them. Sherlock sprang up and stalked towards the door, winding his scarf around his neck as he did so, John trotting along after him.
Author's note- Hello my lovelies. This was my first attempt at a multi-chapter fic (Before Excerpts) and it is extremely important that I get it right so I hope you'll be patient with me. Beware of slow updates! The title "Love you through it" refers to Martina McBride's song I'm gonna love you through it. I'm not much of a country fan, but parts of her song fit beautifully and may make more of an appearance later on. Sorry about the Christmas carol reference, I loved it when he played in ASIB and ACD!John always loved Sherlock's playing.
Reviews would be very much appreciated, and any advice would be great. I didn't want it to be too dark for a reason but I feel like this needs more angst. Perhaps soon, yes?
For my Bloo, the Sherlock to my John, the missing part of me. I love you so much hun!