"Sorry about the leg," a familiar voice called, "I intended to rescue you not to get you injured."
John woke up lying on a couch. Sitting up, he found himself wrapped in a blanket. He tried to reply to the voice but all he managed to let out of his mouth was a groan. John turned to one side to try and stand up. Within doing so, he managed to stand up for twenty seconds, and within his first step his injured leg buckled underneath him in great pain. Upon hearing John's collapse, Sherlock rushed to his friend's aid. "I'd thought you'd know by now not to try and stand up after a bullet through the leg being an army doctor and all."
"How do you know about my past life?" asked John with his back towards Sherlock, "How did you…" John turned around finding himself face to face with his friend, Sherlock Holmes.
"Surprised to see me?" Sherlock's face beamed with a smile, "Bet you didn't…" 'Smack'
"Ow! What was that for?" Sherlock reached up to feel his numb cheek.
"That was for deceiving me, your own friend." John then was too overwhelmed with joy to keep it in himself any longer. Launching onto Sherlock in a big friendly hug, John wept into Sherlock's shoulder, not in grief but in ecstasy. Sherlock, feeling awkward at this gesture paused for a brief moment, then wrapped his arms around John and patted him on the back.
"Um… you wouldn't mind if I just go to the kitchen would you? I've got tea on the hob and it should be ready by now."
"Oh… right. Sorry." John said pulling himself away from Sherlock, "I'm just so glad that you are alive. What were those men after for anyway?"
"They just wanted to know where I was so that they could locate me. Just some of Mycroft's men." Sherlock poured some tea into two cups, "He always suspected I was still alive. He's just that type of annoying brother."
"Aren't you bored? I mean you've been here on standby without any interesting cases for a long time."
"Do you know why that is? That's because I have been waiting for this moment so that we can get back to business again. Don't you see? Now that you're here, we can solve crimes together." Sherlock put two lumps of sugar in his own cup before bringing them towards the table.
"So what you're saying is…"
"What I'm saying, John is that I need you for any upcoming challenges. I mean another person's view is very helpful in inquiries." Sherlock takes a seat in front of John and sets the cups of tea down in front of each other.
"Oh. So it wasn't what I was thinking then."
"What were you thinking John?"
"I was thinking that you would have wanted me to be by your side as a friend during the investigations." John leaned forward and picked up his cup of tea. A second moment of silence occurred.
"Well and uh… that too I suppose."
"Really?"
"No. But while we are at this subject is there anything interesting that is happening so far?"
"Not that I know of. I've been knocked out two times or more, how am I supposed to know?" At that moment John got a blinding headache and reached his right hand up to his temple. A sudden rapping against the door interrupted them from their conversation.
"Yes, who is it?" Sherlock asked as he approached the door.
"Ah. Hello Sherlock my dear brother. I was coming to see whether John was alright. Sorry about that officer he was always a bit dodgy in the head." Mycroft walked in through the doorway. "I didn't mean for him to…"
"Not now Mycroft. John and I are discussing things over tea."
"Would you care to join us?" John interrupted.
"Well, why not? It's only a cup of tea, right Sherlock?"
"Very well." Sherlock gestured towards a seat next to John on the couch. Mycroft leaned his umbrella against the wall next to the couch and took a seat. Sherlock then graciously moved toward the kitchen to make another cup of tea for his brother.
"That looks bad. Are you feeling alright John?" Mycroft pointed toward John's leg.
"Yeah, thanks for asking Mycroft." John repositioned himself on the couch as Sherlock sat down.
"What are you doing here Mycroft? You wouldn't have come here if it wasn't for your job." Sherlock leaned back and crossed his leg, "Why would you come here to see me?"
"Well apart from seeing if John was alright, I came to tell you some little advice." At that moment John leaned forward and rubbed his injured leg feeling a crepe bandage wrapped around his lower calf.
"And what's that Mycroft, stay out of my business? Blah, blah, blah. Is that it? If so bye, bye Mycroft." Sherlock got up to grab his violin and started plucking the strings.
"No Sherlock, my advice is to stop trying to make a fool of yourself." Mycroft got out of his seat and grabbed his umbrella. "By the way I informed DI Lestrade and his team that you were still alive and were up to solving some more crimes. And now I think I should leave. My government needs me back at my station. Good bye Sherlock. John." Mycroft stride through the doorway. Sherlock and John waited until Mycroft was really gone to start up their conversation.
"Why John? Why did you invite him to join us for tea?" Sherlock implied waving his arms about like a maniac. "Why?"
"Well, Mycroft usually doesn't come over unless it's for a good purpose. Anyway we need a new case to solve. You should thank him, you know that." John stood up yet again to find himself stumbling over on his badly injured leg. Sherlock approached John and stopped a pace away as John braced himself against the wall.
"You know my relationship with my brother. You shouldn't try to interfere with these sorts of things anyway. It doesn't involve you and it doesn't need your help. I might have to change your bandage later this evening. I'll try to find something to help you with the pain."
"Thanks Sherlock." John walked over to the kitchen. "By the way Sherlock, you're out of milk."
"Yes I know, I'm going out this evening to the grocery store. Anything I can get you?" Sherlock replied as he went to the counter to grab his phone and keys. Sherlock then pulled up the collar of his favorite coat, tied his scarf round his neck and stuffed his keys into his pockets.
"No, not really."
"Alright then I'll be off and I'd advise you go to sleep. There's a spare bedroom next to mine. Go down the corridor, past the bathroom and turn to your left. There are some extra clothes in the wardrobe and all of your supplies are in the drawer next to the bed." Sherlock then turned around to leave.
"Er, Sherlock?"
"Yes John?"
"Where exactly are we by the way?"
"Oh, I thought you'd have figured that out by now. We're in the building right opposite 221B Baker Street. Bye." Sherlock left the flat. When John was sure he heard the door lock, John turned and struggled to go to his bedroom, leaning against the walls along the way when, at last he reached the bed. John flopped down onto the bed and was instantly compelled to sleep.
John dreamed about the day he saw Sherlock jump off the hospital roof. It was an utter nightmare. John tossed and turned as he pictured Sherlock's slow descent off the roof of the hospital where he had hit the ground and he confronted Sherlock's dead body.
AN: Please review!
Sherlocked Kat
