For the first time in Sherlock's life he was afraid. Well at least without drugs being involved. The pistol was pointed at John and the man behind the gun was delirious.
"Calm down. I don't want to hurt you," John said.
"You hurt me? No one will ever hurt me again! You or this man," he pointed the gun at Sherlock "or anyone will never hurt me," the man said.
Sherlock studied the man. He was short with brown hair. His brown eyes were full of fear. his wide eyes told Sherlock that he was new at being a criminal. He didn't want to kill but his hands weren't shaking so that meant that he would kill if threatened.
"Look we can help you. Please, Interpol will be here..." John said.
"You called the police!" the man said. This was his final assault.
At the last second, the man brought the gun around and pulled the trigger. A searing pain went through his leg. Sherlock fell to the ground and clutched his leg. He saw the man run, but John ran to him.
"Go get him, I am fine . Just a scratch," Sherlock groaned. Stop showing emotions, he thought.
" Sherlock your delirious. It went straight through you thigh. We need to get you to the hospital," John explained.
"We?"
" Yes. Interpol just showed up. Lestrade is going to give us a ride."
"I'm fine." Sherlock said. Even though all he complaining they got him into the car.
An hour later he was out of surgery. The doctor tried to give him morphine, but Sherlock refused. He also refused any source of food they tried to give him. The nurse ushered in John, who promptly laughed at Sherlock in his hospital gown. Sherlock immediately scowled in protest. Not a moment later a doctor walked though the door.
"Sherlock, I see you haven't been taking the morphine . And your not answering the nurse's. Are you in pain?" the doctor asked
" I am great. Fine. Fantastic. Now can I go?" Sherlock asked the doctor. Just the sight of the cast on repulsed him.
" Almost. Um, well you need to keep your leg elevated and use those crutches I prescribed. Get lots of rest and don't do anything that might break you bone again," the doctor ordered.
"Your wife's cheating on you with Dr. Howard. And your dog is going to have a baby," Sherlock immediately said to the doctor.
"Don't mind him, he is always like this" John gave Sherlock an angry look. Sherlock mouthed what? but John just rolled his eyes.
"Thank you Mr. Watson," the doctor said. John stood up a little taller in recognition of his last name. Sherlock wished he could stand.
Sherlock stubbornly looked out the window of the cab. The stupid cast was large and bulky. He hated it. He knew John would make a big deal about it. All Sherlock wanted to do was go to his mind palace. The only place he felt sane. Why did this have happen to him? Everyone knew John was the one who always got hurt. Sherlock was to smart. Or so he thought.
The cab stopped, pulling Sherlock out of his haze. Sherlock went for his wallet, but John thrust the money instead. Sherlock tried to grab the crutches, but John took them.
Very funny, now give them back" Sherlock said angrily .
John ignored him and walked around the car. He helped Sherlock out of the cab. He didn't leave him alone till Sherlock was in his own bed. Sherlock had to insist he was fine in order for him to leave.
Sherlock huffed and picked his crutches back up and walked over down the stairs and to the couch. He immediately went to his mind palace. He searched everywhere for the man he'd seen. The only thing he'd come up with was an old news article about his wife dying when a drunk driver hit them.
He was suddenly woken from his palace when some one touched his cast they moved it upward despite his thoughts not too, he cried out. He looked and saw John frustrated. hew put Sherlock's leg down onto a pillow.
"Are you doing well, Sherlock, and don't say you are because I know you" John asked.
John seemed to realize Sherlock was ignoring him. Anger swelled in him. He hit Sherlock square in the nose.
"Are you insane?" Sherlock asked.
"Tell me the truth!" John yelled.
The phone rang interrupting their fight. Sherlock grabbed the phone and saw the caller I.D .Sherlock smiled when he read it, it was Lestrade.
"What is it ? Is it a murder? Do you need me at the crime scene? Do I need my microscope?" Sherlock asked.
"Um, Yes. Yes, and no." Lestrade said.
"Great."
Sherlock jumped up and immediately regretted it. He fell onto the couch and muttered curses. John said he wasn't coming. When the pain finally stopped. Sherlock turned on him
"What is bloody wrong with you. I am bloody able to go to a crime scene" Sherlock realized he was yelling.
"You need to stop acting like you aren't hurt. News flash you are! Now stop and act grown up" John said.
Sherlock refused to speak for 10 minutes. Until his head fell to his hands. He started to speak.
"I don't like to be hurt. It's unnatural. How do you cope?" Sherlock asked.
"I just try to forget. I also use pain killers so that might help" John replied.
"Sorry" Sherlock mumbled.
"Wow a confession. And was that an apology?" John mussed.
"Now why would I do a thing like that." Sherlock turned around. Then he smiled.
