Hospital Boredom
Summary: Sherlock is shot and has to stay at the hospital. What a boring place for a consulting detective. John and Lestrade have to deal with his antics. Handcuffs might be involved.
Disclaimer: Nope, not mine. (Will it ever change? I fear not.)
John felt stiff as a board when he woke up. Sleeping in a chair was never good for ones muscles. He stretched extensively and looked at the clock. It was nine o'clock in the morning; a good time to visit a certain consulting detective that was most likely very cranky.
Sherlock had been shot yesterday when they were chasing a criminal through London. The injury wasn't life threatening but they had to keep Sherlock in the hospital for at least two days.
Sherlock had successfully managed to upset the whole staff after one hour. He told one doctor that his wife had an affair, he diagnosed the nurse with diabetes, he told the receptionist that she was secretly in love with the chief physician (in front of the chief physician, of course) and accused the lady in the gift shop of embezzling money. He then took one look at a male nurse in the corridor and told the first doctor that this was the man sleeping with his wife.
Then he started to watch telly. He managed to do so quietly for ten minutes before he began shouting at it. It grew too loud for the other patients on the floor and the doctor decided to give him a sedative. It did work, but it also made Sherlock talkative; even more so than usual. Lestrade, who had picked that time to visit, was confronted with everything the consulting detective had deduced about the relationship between Anderson and Sgt. Donavan.
"Did you know that she spends four nights a week at his place, Lestrade? You wonder how I know that it's his and not hers? It's because of the smell. I bet you can smell it too, but you're not realising what it means. I'm not really surprised; because really, you don't use that brain of yours a lot, do you? I bet you could get a promotion if you did. But then your superiors, they don't think much do they? Anyway, I was saying…" He knew surprisingly much for a man who considered himself married to his work and not interested in relationships.
Lestrade left his room for a short while to get some coffee and Sherlock's doctor accompanied him when he came back. That's when they gave Sherlock a sleep aid. The consulting detective's last words before he fell asleep were: "A coincidence? I don't think so."
John had stayed in Sherlock's room the entire time. He breathed a sigh of relieve when his best friend was finally asleep. Lestrade had taken one look at him and told him to go and find a place to sleep; he would look after Sherlock. John had happily agreed.
John opened the door. Sherlock was in bed, eyes closed but definitely awake. John could tell that he was in a foul mood and he was sorely tempted to greet him with: "Good morning sunshine." He'd already opened his mouth when he saw the handcuffs. "Sherlock?"
Sherlock turned away from him.
"Can you believe him? He tried to run away. It's like dealing with a child!" Lestrade entered the room with two coffees. He handed one cup over to John.
"Sherlock? You wanted to leave that badly?" John took a sip from his coffee, mainly to hide his smile.
Sherlock huffed; clearly sulking.
"I dozed off during the night and the next time I open my eyes he's gone." Lestrade sat down and grinned. "I was worried, because, you know, he was heavily sedated. Do you want to know where I found him?"
"By all means."
"I found him at the entrance, wearing a white coat and a stethoscope around his neck. Seriously, I wouldn't have recognized him at all, but there was a tiny detail he missed."
Sherlock finally opened his eyes. "I was heavily sedated!"
John imagined seeing a faint blush creeping up Sherlock's cheeks. "What did he miss?"
"He was barefoot." Lestrade laughed and John joined in happily.
Sherlock muttered something unintelligible and the blush grew stronger.
"So you dragged him back and…"
"And I cuffed him to the bed. It wasn't too difficult; he didn't put up that much of a fight." Lestrade grinned at Sherlock who tried to look away. "And then on our way up we were joined by the nurse responsible for the psych ward."
John nearly choked on his coffee. "Excuse me?"
"Yes. Obviously someone informed her that one of her patients had escaped and was running around the hospital as a badly disguised doctor."
"I was sedated, all right?" Sherlock shot them a very dirty look but that didn't even dampen their laughter.
A/N.: So there you go. I just figured that Sherlock wasn't someone to enjoy hospital stays. Please leave a review! Thank you very much.