Chapter 4: Mummy said!

While Sherlock was sleeping his doctor came in, slow and quietly. Mycroft explained to him that only John was allowed to treat his brother from now on and that the hospital staff should follow his orders. The doctor nodded and left the room again. Mycroft and John didn't talk after that; they didn't want to disturb Sherlock's sleep.

What woke him was a dream. The still sleeping Sherlock started to cry and scream like in pain. It sounded like 'don't hurt me' and 'I don't know what you want'. Sherlock opened his eyes and the first thing he saw was his brother who took him in his arms. Mycroft whispered in Sherlock's ears. "It was just a dream, dreams can't hurt you. You are safe." As Sherlock calmed down his hand was searching for Mycroft's wrist, testing his pulse. This action hurt not only John deep in his heart.

Mycroft tried now to speak to Sherlock with a look of authority in his eyes and his voice. "Sherlock we need to talk about something." Sherlock looked up and waited for his big brother to continue. "I think you already know that but I will tell it you anyway. You are hurt, you have a few very dangerous injuries and you need a doctor to treat you so that you can get better again." He lifted his hand to stop Sherlock before he could interrupt him. "You don't remember Doctor Watson here, but he is your friend. You can trust him. He will help you. Please let him look after you, for me." The adult Sherlock would have laughed at the last part of the sentence but the child Sherlock nodded and looked intensely at John as if to say 'I'm doing that because my brother asked me to do it'. "Good boy. Doctor Watson will ask you a few questions, please answer them." Mycroft said.

John although a bit surprised needed only a second to get ready and slip into what Sherlock called 'his doctor mode'. He started by assessing the GCS (Glasgow Coma Scale) level. He had opened his eyes spontaneously, so 4; he could speak normally and in full sentences, but he was disoriented as to time, where and when and he thought he was a little child, so 4; he was able to obey all motor commands, so 6. That made a total of 14. Not bad, but not good either. Patients were usually discharged when they reached a score of at least 15. John asked all the standard questions like name, age, birth date, where he lived. Sherlock answered them and from his point of view they were correct. In his head he was five, lived with his brother and father outside London. He couldn't remember his kidnapping, who had hurt him or the incident between him, his father and the following fall from the stairs.

When John pulled back the covers to start examining him and look at his injuries, Sherlock fought him at first but after Mycroft's intervention, Sherlock let John do his work. Next he pulled out a pen light and checked the pupils for size and reactivity. He then took a stethoscope and listened to Sherlock's heart and breathing. He checked blood pressure, temperature (with some problems as Sherlock only opened his mouth after Mycroft got angry at him) and blood oxygen saturation. Sherlock was not vomiting, apparently not feeling dizzy either, but he was extremely tired.

John wasn't sure, if telling Sherlock he was an adult would be a good idea or if it was better to wait and let him find out by himself. He decided the best thing was to let Sherlock do things in his own time and let his brain heal.

Mycroft's phone vibrated for the twentieth time or so and finally he sighed, defeated and turned to Sherlock. "I have to call someone; you will be fine with Doctor Watson, right?" Sherlock looked at Mycroft. "Is Daddy coming?" Mycroft looked back from the door. "No, Sherlock. Daddy is not coming."

The door closed and Sherlock looked sadly down at his hands lying on his lap. "Why does my brother have to call someone, Doctor Watson?" John surprised that Sherlock was talking to him had to think about an answer that would help a child. "You remember that Mycroft told you, you forgot that we are friends?" A nod came from the bed. "You forgot a few more things because of your head injury. Your brother has a very important job and sometimes he is the only one that can make a decision."

"I'm not stupid, I don't forget things." Sherlock's outburst was a surprise. "I know, Sherlock, you are one of the most intelligent people I have ever met, but you got badly hurt and to protect yourself your brain locked away a few of your memories." Sherlock looked up at him clearly worried. "Are they still there? I mean my memories. Am I getting them back, Doctor Watson?" There was something like fear in his eyes. "I hope so and you can call me John. Remember, I am your friend." Sherlock leaned back to get a bit of distance between the doctor and him. "But Mummy said I have to call adults with their family names and title if they have one. Exceptions are family members but first I have to ask them for permission. You are an adult and not a relative so I will call you Doctor Watson, like my brother did." Spoken like an adult, John thought.

"Why is it important for you that I get my memories back?" John sighed. "I would be sad if you were never to remember all the adventures we had together, all the fun we had and all the silly things that happened during our time together." John's heart got heavier with every word, seeing what Sherlock's amnesia meant. John was the only one that remembered their common past now and how Sherlock had been; John thought about what it would mean if Sherlock were to stay like that: a child in an adult body. "It would be very sad if you were never to remember again how close we were."

Before they could continue their conversation the door opened and Mycroft came back. The look on his face told John that he had to go, probably to prevent a war or start one. "Sherlock, I have to leave you alone with Doctor Watson for a few hours, but when you go to sleep ask him to call me and I will come to you, okay? And promise me to eat something." Sherlock bit his lip to avoid crying but his eyes filled with tears. Mycroft gave him another long hug and left the room.

Sherlock looked smaller than before, lost. "What's your favorite book?" It was the first thing that came into John's mind in the attempt of distracting the detective. The favorite book of his five year old flatmate genius. Sherlock smiled. "Actually I have two. The first one is Treasure Island, it's very old and famous. It's about pirates and a treasure. I want to be a pirate when I grow up. With my own crew and a big ship. We can have fights with other pirates 'epic sea battles' Mycroft calls them. Sailing around the world." Sherlock's eyes became brighter with every word. "And the second one?" John asked. The smile disappeared. "Won't tell you, you will laugh like the boy next door." This was an unsecure version of his friend who was still interested in the opinion of others and tried very hard to fit in. "Try me." John responded. "I'm not like that boy and I think a book title isn't the strangest thing that you have ever shared with me." After a second of hesitation Sherlock told him. "It's a book about bees with huge pictures and it explains the difference between the different kinds and all important information about every bee is written down." Sherlock stopped and waited for John to laugh but he didn't and that made Sherlock happier then talking about the books.

"I think, I know where they are, would you like them?" John asked remembering seeing the books somewhere in the flat before. "Yes, please." Big happy eyes beamed at him. "Good, than wait here for a second I will call Mycroft and tell him to fetch them on his way back."

Outside the room he called Mycroft and told him where in the flat the two books should be. He never thought much about them. An old British classic and an encyclopedia like the dozens that stood in the bookshelf. Mycroft promised to send Anthea to get them. Back in the room Sherlock looked happy. John sat down this time not on the sofa but on the chair he used during Sherlock's time in coma.

"Doctor Watson, what are you doing? I thought adults have a job or other work. That's the reason they never have time for their children." Curious John had to try it. "Oh, are you saying that you haven't already deduced everything about me?" John smiled, knowing Sherlock had done it. "What does 'deduce' mean?" John's smile vanished and he tried to explain it using other words. "Tell me what you see when you look at me, what it means and what it tells you about me?" Sherlock made a face, as if he was biting down on a lemon. "Mummy said it's not nice to tell people all their secrets and I should be polite and not tell everyone about it." Interesting John thought, there was a time Sherlock hadn't shared everyone's dirty little secrets with the whole world. "It's okay to do it with me. I'm used to it and kind of like it. I give you permission to do it, sounds fair, right? You saw I was a doctor the second you woke, you told me and I wasn't angry, right? You can do it again."

Sherlock thought about it and very carefully he started. "You were a soldier too. And you went to a really hot place with lots of sunshine. You got hurt I think in your shoulder, because you hold your body in a strange way. I think you had a lot of girlfriends but nothing too serious and you like tea in a special way. You are one of those people who like to read the newspaper and you have a sibling. But I don't know if it is a brother or a sister." John looked happy "Sister and that was amazing, not so scientific but really amazing." Sherlock's cheeks turned red. Embarrassed because no one ever told him things like that.

A knock on the door interrupted the friendly 'learning to know each other'. Sherlock pulled his blanket as high as he could to hide under it. It was one of the nurses from before, like instructed they waited outside for John. She brought an early dinner. John placed the food in front of Sherlock, he looked at it disgusted. "You don't have to eat it all, just a bit." John knew about Sherlock and his issues with food, so a bit would be enough for now. "Mummy said I have to eat what's on my plate." John understood now what Mycroft had meant by his story earlier. Sherlock, the child tried desperately to keep his mother close to him. Somehow keeping her alive by following her rules. "Your mother is right with that, you should try to eat what's on your plate, but you are in a hospital and as your doctor I can say it's okay today if you only eat a little bit. Just try as much as you can, that will be enough."

Sherlock looked at his food again and picked up his fork. It was all food easy on the stomach so as to not upset it, after an unknown time without any. Who knows what kind of food he had gotten from his kidnappers. Not much by the looks of it. Sherlock was thinner than ever before.

When John thought about the kidnappers a hot angry feeling appeared and filled his whole body. They were still in freedom. He wished he had five minutes with them alone in a room. They would pay for what they had done to Sherlock.

After dinner - Sherlock had eaten about half of it - he began to look tired. He tried to hide it from John.

Anthea was the next one that knocked at the door. She also stayed outside and waited for John to get the books and to his surprise a bag with fresh clothes for him and a box filled up with Ms. Hudson's homemade cookies. Sherlock, as tired as he was, started reading in the bee book. "Would you like some of Mrs. Hudson's cookies, she baked them especially for you." Sherlock looked up from the pages. "Do I know her?" He asked taking one. Sherlock sometimes forgot to eat and when he ate it was never much. But not even he was able to say 'no' to Mrs. Hudson's bakery.

"Yes you do know her and you love her like a mother and she loves you like a son. You don't have to believe me. Your life isn't so lonely. You have more friends and people who care about you, not only your brother." Sherlock didn't answer, maybe it was too much but he took another cookie.

The next knock was another nurse bringing Sherlock's medication. He watched it with suspicion. John sat down and explained it to him. "This one is your antibiotic, you know for what it is, right?" Sherlock nodded. "Can you tell me?" John pushed. "To prevent infection of my injuries." John smiled, even as a five year old Sherlock was just brilliant. "Exactly, it's very important. This one is something to take your pain away. It will probably make you a bit tired but sleep is good for you. And this IV contains lots of vitamins, fluids and other nutrients that you need to make you heal faster."

"Can you take it out, it hurts?" Sherlock asked shyly. "No, you need to keep this in a while longer. I will change it now. I will do it very slowly, you do not need to be scared." John did his work watched by worried and tired silver-blue eyes.

Finished with that he offered. "Would you like to call Mycroft, I think you are going to sleep soon." "Doctor Watson?" He suddenly asked. "Yes, Sherlock…"

"You said my brother has very important work to do." John looked at him. "Yes, I did but he will come if you call and ask for him." Sherlock was meeting John's look now. "Are you staying tonight?" Surprised but happy where this conversation was leading to. "Yes I will stay by your side the whole time." John answered. "Maybe we can call him and I tell him he only needs to come in the morning. Than can he do his work and he will be here when I wake up." John pulled his phone out of his pocket. "Of course we can do that." He called Mycroft on his private number.

Mycroft answered the call very fast. "Has something happened?" The fear in his voice was clear hearable. "No, everything is alright, Sherlock want's to say 'good night'." John gave the phone to Sherlock. He didn't seem surprised about that piece of modern technology. This meant that part of his memory was intact.

They talked briefly and Sherlock really said good night." If this weren't such a bad situation John would film it. He got the phone back and talked to Mycroft. "Whatever you did, Sherlock likes and trust you, thank you for that and for staying at his side." The call ended before John could say 'always'. Sherlock was lying already under his blanket, his eyes starting to close. "Good night Doctor Watson, please be here in the morning." Softly tucking his friend in. "I will. I promise." Sherlock's eyes closed and like every tired child he fell asleep very quickly.