2. Something is wrong
Three days later, John had just started the morning shift; he got a call from Sean. "Hey Sean. What's up?"
"Hello John. I just got the results from your blood analysis."
John felt that small pang of worry again. Sean had said, he would only call, if something wasn't right. "So, the liver values are still too high?" John asked.
"I'm afraid yes. Would you mind, coming over today? I would like to make an ultrasound scan."
"Sure. What time?"
John felt uncomfortable lying on the examination table while Sean put some gel on his stomach. The doctor seemed to notice John's tension. "Doctors are the worst patients, mmhh?" he teased smiling as he started to move the ultrasound head over the area he wanted to examine.
"Yeah," John said also smiling. "We know everything better."
John couldn't see the screen of the device from his position on the bed. He didn't like that because, yes, he was a doctor and he wanted to know what was happening inside him. But he knew how unnerving a doctor-patient can be, so he kept quiet and just observed Sean's reactions. Like some days ago the smile on his colleague's face disappeared. He just concentrating, John told himself. You are always extra careful, when examining a colleague.
After a few minutes Sean finished the scan and handed John some paper towels. "You can put your jumper back on. I'm going to make some prints, so we can discuss them."
OK, John thought while wiping the rest of the gel from his belly. Something is wrong.
They met a few minutes later in Sean's office. "There are irregularities on the scan," Sean said and laid the pictures on the desk, so that John could see them. "Here," he drew a circle around a certain area with his pen. "and here."
John nodded. It was on all the pictures and clearly visible from the different angles. There was definitely a change in the tissue structure, but it was not explicit enough to reason the kind of abnormal formation. It could be anything. It could be harmless but also… "OK. What's next?" he asked, stopping this train of thoughts. "MRI scan, I suppose?"
"Yes," Sean nodded and picked up his phone. "I'll see whether you can get an appointment tomorrow."
Sherlock was occupied with some experiment in the kitchen when John came home.
"How was your day?" Sherlock mumbled after John had bent down and put a kiss on his partner's head.
John hesitated for a moment. He got his appointment for the scan tomorrow at 10am. He was worried but also tried to be reasonable about it. The ultrasound pictures didn't mean anything yet. It could still be a harmless tissue change which will go away by itself. No reason to worry Sherlock.
"OK, but strenuous patients today," John said because he knew Sherlock would notice that something was up. "I'm tired." He considered his options for a moment then he added. "I have to go to work tomorrow too. Won't be long, just a couple of hours I suppose."
"Why? You don't have work tomorrow," Sherlock looked up from the microscope. "I looked at the calendar," he added with a slightly proud tone that reminds John of a child begging for praise. He chuckled a bit.
"Yeah, just some paperwork that remained undone today. I'll hurry." John tried to sound as casual as possible. He saw Sherlock's frown. It did happen sometimes, that John's working schedule changed from one day to another but just a few hours due to paperwork, that was unusual.
"Well," John said, knowing perfectly well which buttons to push to distract Sherlock. "What about the case? I already thought about a nice title for the blog. What do you think about 'His last service'?"
"I suppose, I don't have to tell you how the procedure is going to work, Dr. Watson?" Allison, the radiology assistant, asked while John tried to find a comfortable position on the stretcher of the MRI device.
"No. I have been in such a thing a couple of times already," John replied. He had several MRI-scans for his shoulder and leg after his injury in Afghanistan. "It will be cold, loud and boring," he said smiling.
Allison laughed. "I'll get you a blanket and there are these of course," she gave him a set of "Mickey Mouse" hearing protectors. "I'm afraid I cannot do much against boredom. The newer devices include the feature of playing music over the headphones. But I'm afraid we don't have one of those."
"Pity, some Beatles songs would be really nice now," John joked and Allison laughed, she suggested he should sing to himself, she wouldn't mind. Allison was a nice woman and previously, before he and Sherlock became a couple, he would have probably asked her out on a date. The thought of Sherlock made John felt guilty for lying to his partner about the appointment today.
"Ready?" Allison asked after she fixed John on the stretcher and tucked the blanket around him. He nodded.
The stretcher drove into the small tube and soon the rumbling and knocking of the machine began. John closed his eyes. The noise was still loud despite the ear muffs but was also so monotonous that he dozed off a bit.
John looked at the pictures of scan and a cold shudder ran down his spin. Sean and Dr. Brian Atkins, a radiologist, who was more experienced in the interpretation of MRI-scans than Sean or John was, had just explained the results to him. "A tumor," John said and tried to gulp down the lump that formed in his throat. "Cancer." It was more a statement than a question.
"Not necessarily, no. The pictures do not show all the typical indications for a cancer tumor," Dr. Atkins said.
"But it could be?"
"Yes," Sean replied with a struggle. "Yes it could be. We need to look at it more closely."
"You mean surgery?"
"Yes. The sooner, the better. If it is cancer, the chances of a full recovery increase each day the earlier we start the treatment," Dr. Atkins sounded cold and distant. But John knew he was right and at the moment he was glad for the doctor's professionalism.
The next hour passed in a blur. The surgery to remove the tumor was set up for next Tuesday at 1pm. The necessary examinations for preparation were carried out. Sean and John talked about the procedure and risks of the operation. When everything was finally settled John felt numb. He couldn't quite associate the situation with himself. It felt like he was watching someone else.
"John," Sean said in his best comforting-doctor-voice as he accompanied his colleague towards the exit. "Please don't worry too much. You know, it's most likely something benign. An adenoma or even a FNH maybe." John nodded but wasn't really convinced. "I know, it's still a surgery containing some risks," Sean continued. "But besides of your liver you are in a good condition. Everything is going to be ok."
John had just hailed a cab when he found a text from Sherlock on his phone, saying he should meet him at the latest crime scene as soon as possible. John hesitated a moment. He actually thought of heading directly back home but sitting alone at the flat would probably drove him up the wall at the moment. He needed time to process the events of today. Maybe the case would provide him with enough distraction to clear his mind and prepare for the talk he was going to have with Sherlock.
John arrived at the crime scene half an hour later. It was a business park which had seen better days. Most of the buildings were in poor condition and many shops were closed. Before he left the cap John took some deep breaths and put a neutral expression in his face. With a partner like Sherlock you develop some practice in not wearing your feelings right on your face. John entered the garage, in which its owner was murdered four days ago.
Sherlock was busy arguing with Anderson about the relevance of some clues Sherlock had found. Lestrade stood next to them and tried to end their argument but both men didn't give him a chance to speak. When John approached the trio he heard Sherlock saying something like "… even a car jack is smarter then you."
"That's enough, Sherlock," Lestrade barked and Anderson stalked away sulking. "Hello John," the DI said when he noticed his attendance.
"Your paper work did take long," Sherlock snapped, obviously annoyed by the lack of John's presence during this case.
"Yeah, sorry, it was more than I had expected."
Sherlock was too occupied with his anger towards Anderson and the stupidity of the Yard (which he proclaimed towards Lestrade several times during the next hours) to notice John's tension. Luckily they were soon busy with the case again so John could shove the thoughts of the surgery to the back of his mind. In the afternoon, the case was solved. The owner of another garage, two blocks away, was arrested.
"Business rivalry! What a boring motive!" Sherlock exclaimed while they waited for a cab to arrive.
"Well, not for him obviously," John just said.
That's when Sherlock realized that John had been oddly quiet in the last hours. "Are you ok?"
"Yes. Yes of course, I am fine," John replied quickly and smiled. Not now, he thought, this is not the right moment to tell him. "So what do you think? Angelo's or the Chinese near Baker Street?"
"Chinese. Take away. I want to be home as soon as possible," Sherlock said and gave him a look which sent a pleasant shiver down John's back.
By the time Sherlock and John got together, they established (well, Sherlock demanded it) a simple rule: Not much (John demanded the 'not much' instead of 'no') physical contact during a case. Sherlock didn't like any distraction from his precious work not even from John. So their relationship during cases was limited to harmless kisses (mostly from John) or light touches. But when a case has been solved, Sherlock was very eager to resume the physical aspects of their relationship.
Just as today.
When John awoke the next morning, the events of the day before smashed down on him immediately. I'll have a surgery in a couple of days. I have a tumor in my liver. It might be cancer. He tossed and turned for a while, tried to calm his racing mind. He turned around facing Sherlock who was still in deep sleep. He was curled up on his side, the duvet wrapped around his naked body. Normally watching his partner sleep had a soothing effect on John but not today. He felt guilty, that he hadn't talked to Sherlock the previous day about the surgery. But the evening had been so nice especially after they went to bed to, well, celebrated the resolution of the latest case in their own way. He just could not bring himself to destroy the peace they had.
John got more and more agitated each minute. He glanced at Sherlock once again. They had just finished a case that kept him awake for nearly two days, so he would probably sleep a bit longer. Carefully, John got up, put some clothes on and quietly left the room. He was unsure what to do but finally decided he needed more information. He had been a surgeon in the military and now worked in the A&E. He didn't know much more about cancer therapy than the things he learned in university and that was ages ago.
John sat down in front of his laptop and began some research. He didn't notice how much time had passed but after a while he had a first overview about types of liver cancer and treatment options. It didn't really help to calm his nerves. John heard a creak from the room next door. He immediately shut the laptop and stood up.
"John?" a sleepy Sherlock emerged from the bedroom. "Since when were you awake?"
"Oh, just a couple of minutes. I was about to go to Tesco's."
"Now?" Sherlock wondered about John's unusual haste, especially on a Saturday morning.
"Yes, we are almost out of milk. Besides we need eggs, I thought about pancakes for breakfast. You want anything else?"
Sherlock shook his head, still occupied with waking up.
"Ok, I'll be back in a moment," John said, put on his jacket and then left in a hurry.
When he was on the street John took several deep breaths. Maybe it was a mistake to look on these websites, before having a confirmed diagnosis. That's what he always told his own patients. Be patient, don't freak out. Now he experienced how hard it was to follow his own advice. A bit of air and a walk; that was exactly what he needed now to get his head clear. So he turned to the left and headed for the supermarket.
In the flat, Sherlock made coffee, still wondering about John's odd behavior. When he returned to the living room, his eyes fell on John's laptop. The power signal was on. Strange, Sherlock thought. He was absolutely certain, that he had shut down the device yesterday evening. Hadn't John told him, he was awake only for a few minutes? Sherlock set his mug down and opened the laptop.