He closes the door behind him and walks towards the sink. Sherlock groans at the pain radiating from his right side. That man sure did know how to put up a fight, too bad it didn't protect him from receiving two bullets to his chest. He looks down at the wound on his right side, the bleeding's finally stopped, it isn't deep enough to require stitches which means all he has to do is clean it, cover it and hope to god it doesn't get infected. He doesn't want another infection. Last time he had an infection it resulted in a fever that required bed rest for three days, being coddled by Mary, and then putting his mission on hold for a week. He cannot afford to waste any more time being ill again, not when he's so close to finishing and returning home.
He knows what he needs to do. He needs to dampen the bath flannel and gently clean the wound so that he doesn't cause himself too much pain and cry out. The walls are terribly thin and he doesn't want to alert Mary, he tries to reason with himself, the real reason is more because he doesn't want to hear how pathetic he sounds. He grits his teeth together as he puts the blooded flannel down in the sink and takes the antiseptic out from the medicine cabinet just above the sink. He breathes heavily through his nose as he applies antiseptic to his wound, it stings a lot, it always does. He thinks he should be used to this feeling by now, goodness knows he's used it countless times these past two years. When he's finally finished with the cream, he gives himself a moment to breathe, that hurts far too much every time he uses it. He removes the gauze from the medicine cabinet and starts to cover his wound with practiced ease, it's something he's done many times before the last two years, he's practically an expert at it.
Looking into the mirror of the medicine cabinet door, he takes in his appearance. A nasty bruise is starting to form on his right cheek, a nasty cut just above his left eyebrow but it isn't bleeding and he sees no need to waste precious antiseptic on something so small and unlikely to become infected. One of his contact lenses had fallen out sometime during the fight, if the fact of that only his left eye is green and his right eye is blue is anything to go by. His red fringe is falling in front of his eyes, but there's no need for him to get it cut, he still needs it as part of his disguise. And he just looks so tired, so tired and worn, his cheekbones are protruding far more than they ever did before, the bags under his eyes never seem to disappear, and there are deep frown lines across his forehead. He doesn't remember the last time he willingly had a nice and long rest that hasn't been brought on by illness. It was before his fall, which is something he's certain of.
He needs to be leaving by tomorrow afternoon. He can't stay here much longer. There are only two more people left to take down and both of them are currently residing in London, and to get to London, he needs to leave Birmingham.
Sherlock turns and walks out of the bathroom and into the living room. He needs to start thinking of a new disguise if he's going to be at London tomorrow. That shouldn't be too hard, a nice oversized hoodie, baggy jeans, worn trainers, and contact lenses that change his eye colour from blue to brown should do. He's thought about a disguise so many times the last two years that it only takes him a few minutes to come up with one now. It's so easy to blend in with the crowd when one knows what to wear. The oversized hoodie and baggy jeans will make him appear to be one of those young and ruthless people nobody cares for and likes to avoid, not many people will question a disguise like that. A name though, that may take a while longer. He's got many fake identification cards, he's used almost all of them many times before, there's only three that he hasn't used yet, and if he remembers correctly the names are: Hayden Smith, Sherrinford Jones, and Andrew Henderson. Sherrinford Jones will likely attract too much attention with it being an uncommon name, which only leaves Hayden Smith and Andrew Henderson. He's used both the names for a case before, it's unlikely anyone will suspect anything, as both cases were six years ago which is a rather long time.
A knock at the door brings Sherlock from his thoughts.
"James," The voice calls through, "are you in there?"
Sherlock recognises the voice to be Mary's. He mentally curses himself; he should have known she would check up on him, she has been ever since he fell ill two months ago.
Mary is his next door neighbour; she lives in the flat next to his. She was one of the few people that welcomed him when he first moved in three months ago and the only person to remain socialising with him. He's grateful for it, it's better than the loneliness that threatens to consume his every thought, but sometimes it only reminds him of his times with John, especially when she grows concerned of his health, though that may just be because she is a nurse. He knows John will like her; she's what John would call intelligent, beautiful, funny and interesting. Sherlock doesn't understand why John will think this, but he just knows that John will.
"Yeah." Sherlock replies, "Just give me a moment."
His recent disguise is of a young man known as James Pattenden – a young lad in Birmingham for the chance to start a new life. The personality is very easy to slip into – James is a nervous man that doesn't socialise often. Simple as that, Mary's fallen for it, as have many others he's come across. Sherlock picks up the t-shirt lying across the table; he knows it's clean as he put it there last night before setting of to get little sleep. He puts the t-shirt on, removes the contact lens from his left eye and quickly goes to answer the door, smiling shyly at her as he does.
"Mary." He says sounding somewhat shocked, "What are you doing here?"
Mary's mouth falls open. "James, what happened to you?" She asks raising a hand to gently finger the area around the wound above his eyebrow.
"I... It's nothing." Sherlock stammers wincing at the touch. Oh yes, it's definitely easy to fall into the personality of James Pattenden. "Just a slight struggle that happened with an old friend." He steps aside to let her enter the flat.
"A slight struggle does not result in cuts and bruises, James." She reprimands him as she enters the flat.
Sherlock only nods as he closes the door. He lowers his head and hunches his shoulders almost embarrassed.
Mary sighs and smiles sadly at him. "Did you at least put some antiseptic cream on it?" She asks concerned.
"Of... Of course." Sherlock lies, cheeks flushing in embarrassment. Sherlock looks into her soft blue eyes and tries not to think about the person with the similar colour.
Mary gives him a strange glance but accepts his answer with a nod, her brown hair falls over her eyes and she swiftly pushes it back.
"Would you like something to drink?" Sherlock asks nervously, reminding himself that James has manners.
Mary frowns at him and Sherlock tries to think if he's gone wrong anywhere. James' cheeks always flush in embarrassment when he lies to her, and James always asks her if she wants a drink whenever she visits, he must appear distracted somehow.
"What's wrong, James?" Mary asks him softly, concern within her tone.
"N... Nothing." Sherlock stammers. He needs to quickly think of a reason as to why James would be so distracted. James isn't a man to socialise often, and he likes to hold onto those he calls his friends, Mary is considered James' friend, Sherlock needs to go to London tomorrow afternoon to complete his mission, could he tell her about the move?
"You can tell me." She murmurs softly.
"I'mmovingtoLondontomorrow." Sherlock blurts out quickly and quietly.
"What was that?" Mary asks confused, "You're moving to London? Tomorrow?"
Sherlock nods slowly, "Yes, I received a job offer this morning, the pay is better than what I'm receiving here."
Mary looks sad for a moment but soon her face lights up. "That's great, James!" She says cheerfully.
Sherlock nods but doesn't look at her.
Mary puts her hands on his face and turns him towards her. "I mean it." She says, "Now, don't forget to call me at least once a week, mister. I know how lonely you get, and I would love to hear more about your time in London."
Sherlock nods once more. He doesn't have much intention of calling her when he moves back to London, she'll move on with her life and forget him, despite how much she may like their friendship, she will move on and forget him. It's what people do. But Mary is a very determined person when she wants to be, and if she wants him to call her once a week then that is something he shall do, unless he wants to have her calling him frequently to hear about it, which he really doesn't.
"Do you have a plaster?" Mary asks unexpectedly, removing a hand from his cheek to lightly finger the wound above his eyebrow.
"It doesn't need a plaster." Sherlock protests, wincing as she fingers it.
"It could get infected or reopened. You'll need something to cover it." Mary replies almost scolding him.
"But, Mary, it'll be fine. I've had worse." Sherlock replies, grateful she hasn't noticed the wound in his side. He doesn't want to imagine how she'd react to that.
"James, you need something to cover it." Mary says softly.
"I will be fine, Mary." Sherlock says moving away from her. He knows he won't win this, not with James' personality, with his own he probably could, but not with James'.
Mary ignores him and goes to walk into the bathroom. Sherlock looks down at the floor, his shoulders hunching over, trying to make him appear nervous. There's no stopping her from entering the bathroom, which also means there's no stopping her from noticing the blooded flannel. He only hopes she doesn't realise about the wound on his side.
Sherlock waits; a small gasp is heard, followed by a sudden rush of footsteps. Sherlock looks up from the floor, Mary is looking at him, sad and concerned as she holds the bath flannel in her hand.
"What happened, James?" She asks softly.
"I... I told you, Mary." Sherlock stammers shifting on his feet, "I had a struggle with a past friend."
Mary shakes her head, "I know you're lying, James. There's too much blood on this for it to belong to your head wound."
Sherlock's cheeks flush in embarrassment as he looks from her to the flannel. "But it's f... fine, Mary. I've already taken care of it."
"Will you let me see it?"
Sherlock takes a step back from her. "I've already taken care of it." He repeats.
"Please?"
Sherlock hesitates and then nods his head slowly. He puts a hand on the bottom of his t-shirt and slowly raises it up until he's revealed the white and slightly red gauze plastered on his right side. Mary drops the flannel and walks towards him; gently she peels back the gauze and examines the wound in his side. She frowns and looks up at him.
"James, what happened?" She asks softly, "I know a stab wound when I see one."
"Nothing! Nothing happened." Sherlock replies quickly and nervously.
"Jamie, you need to tell someone."
That's the nickname. Mary gave it to him when he recovered from the fever two months ago, Sherlock's never liked it, she always uses it when she wants him to do something or for some other reason.
"I... It's fine, Mary, really." Sherlock replies stepping to the side to avoid her hands.
Mary doesn't respond. She looks up at him sadly and says, "Is that why you're going to London?" She questions quietly, "To avoid the one who nearly... killed you?"
Sherlock shakes his head, "I have a new job down there."
Mary nods and looks back down at the wound; gently she places the gauze back over it, trying not to think about how she almost lost her friend.
"You're going to need antibiotics for that. Just to be sure it doesn't get infected. Who's going to take care of you then? I most certainly won't be." Mary jokes.
Sherlock smiles slightly and pushes his t-shirt back down.
"I'll be back in a moment." Mary says walking towards the door, "Don't go anywhere."
Sherlock watches her leave, he waits for the door to close before he breathes a sigh of relief, and the tension that he never realised was there, drops from his shoulders. That was close, too close for his liking. He should really get going soon.
AN: I realise this has been done many times before, but I wanted to do my own version and make it slightly different to those already written.
I hope you enjoyed it, have a nice day!
~Steffii