Sherlock gets a cab to the hospital after speaking to his brother, forgetting about his disheveled look, he tosses away his scarf and removes his jacket, managing to wash his hands off before he finds his brother, still very distressed about everything.
"Really, Sherlock. Look at you." Mycroft says in a disapproving tone, shaking his head for a moment. "Though it is good to see you looking like a grownup for once." he says as he eyes the suit Sherlock is wearing. "Still, getting so worked up over John Watson, of all people? I fail to see what is so intriguing about him." Mycroft says as he examines the nails of his hand for a moment.
This is not really the time that Sherlock wants to have this conversation with his brother, and so he just says, "You can't see how special he is, Mycroft, and that is why you're alone. How is your diet going, by the way?" he asks, glancing his brother over before he heads toward the front desk. "I'm looking for a John Watson, he was just brought in by ambulance, he was hit by a car." he says as he fidgets a little, really wanting a cigarette to help calm his nerves.
The nurse taps away at the keyboard slowly, considering for a few moments. "I'm afraid he's still in the ER, sir. You won't be able to see him until he's stabilized and moved to his own room." She explains as she looks up at the obviously distressed young man. She smiles in what is meant to be a sympathetic way. "Don't worry, honey. I'm sure he'll be fine. Initial reports say that he needed some stitches, he's lost quite a bit of blood, but nothing too serious." She reassures, smiling comfortingly at the young man in front of her. "But they have to go through x-rays and the exams, and those can take a while. You know.. I'm sure he would appreciate it if you brought in some clothes and such for him." She offers, assuming that they're either good friends or something more, from the way Sherlock is acting.
Making an annoyed sound in his throat, and giving the Nurse a curt nod, Sherlock turns away from the station and paces back over to where his brother is, "I need a cigarette." He mutters before he walks out the doors, quickly pulling one out of his jacket that he's still carrying.
"Your last bit of rebellion, is it, Sherlock? That is a rather nasty habit you have, you should give it up." Mycroft says with distaste as he follows his brother out. "I called in a favor, little brother, your John Watson will be taken care of." he reassures as he looks at his brother, confused since he's never seen him act like this before.
Taking a long drag from his cigarette, Sherlock exhales and sighs a little. "It helps me think." he says before he nods quietly. "Good. I.. should go to his flat, get him some things, he'll need something to change into when he leaves." he says thoughtfully, already knowing he'll be able to break into John's flat, the locks aren't that complicated and if worse came to worse he could charm his way past the landlord.
Watching his little brother with concern, Mycroft merely sighs. "Do be careful, Sherlock. I don't want to see you disappointed by this.. simpleton. I assure you, I've done a thorough check, there is nothing extraordinary about him." he says as he continues to watch Sherlock.
Taking another drag of his cigarette, Sherlock frowns at his brother. "Thank you for your help, Mycroft. Now kindly bugger off." he says before he strides off. He goes back to his flat first, hesitating before he changes into a clean suit, thinking that John still might like it, and then he goes to John's, picking the lock and letting himself in. Nervous still, his mind turning back to the way John looked on the pavement, bruised and battered. Collecting clothes and such for John that he puts in a duffel, along with books that he seems to favor, Sherlock finally locks the place back up after finding a spare key, smirking a little as he heads back toward the hospital, adding John's spare key to his own key ring. "Please be alright, John." He says to himself.
By the time he gets back to the hospital, John has been given his own room thanks to Mycroft, and Sherlock is allowed access, on the 'approve visitor' list. The detective sets the duffel down along one wall before he pulls over the uncomfortable plastic chair provided. Finally, he allows himself to look at the man on the bed, breath catching in his throat. John lays on his back, hooked up to an IV, a pulse monitor on his finger, having a few more monitors attached, and oxygen tubes in his nose. But more than that, he looks battered and bruised, small cuts along his face and hands, one along his forehead bigger than the others, and being held together by a butterfly suture.
"John.." Sherlock whispers, going to grab the chart and see what's actually wrong with him. Gash on his leg, 10 stitches, two cracked ribs, cut on the inside of his cheek but that's mostly superficial, nothing too serious. extensive bruising and a likely twisted knee, he might have to walk with a cane until it heals. Not that he should be moving around much with cracked ribs. Satisfied that he's going to be fine and it's nothing too serious, Sherlock replaces the chart and then goes back to sit beside John. "You idiot, John.." he mutters softly, taking the older man's hand gently in his, and since there's no one there to see, he leans down and kisses the back of his hand lightly. But he knows that John has to sleep, so he just rests his head down beside John's legs, on the bed, hands staying around one of John's.
It's hours before John starts to wake up, and he gives a small grunt as the pain hits him, and he opens his eyes slowly, blinking rapidly. When he feels pressure on the bed beside him, he turns and looks at the detective, having to blink a few times and make sure he is seeing what he thinks he's seeing. For a moment he thinks it's his old Sherlock. But no, he sees the face, younger than he's seen it. Unable to help himself, he weakly lifts his hand and sinks his fingers into those curls, stroking along Sherlock's head for a moment.
The touch jerks Sherlock out of his light sleep, and he hums softly for a moment before he looks at John. "You're awake.." he says in relief, letting the hand fall from his hair as he sits up, but he catches it in one of his. "Thank you, John.. you saved my life. I'm so sorry you got hurt. How are you feeling?" The detective asks as he sits up, looking over at the call button.
"Hurts to breathe. Cracked ribs, huh?" John asks as he looks at Sherlock, watching the younger man nod. "I hurt everywhere. But, I was hit by a car. No broken bones, that's surprising.." He mumbles as he notes the lack of a cast on any part of his body. "Not much of a first date.. and you're still all dressed up.. Blimey, you always looked good in your bloody suits." He says as he watches his detective.
"Don't worry about the date." Sherlock scolds as he looks at John. "I'll take care f your work and everything, just relax and get better, John. Go back to sleep. I'll be here when you wake up." He promises, kissing the back of John's hand lightly as he looks at the man on the bed, being able to tell that he's tired.
Making a small sound since he can feel his eyes drooping sleepily again, John nods quietly. "You had better be. No bloody disappearing acts." He mumbles softly, squeezing Sherlock's hand gently as he looks at the younger man. "I'll always be there to save you if I can, Sherlock... the.. other time.. knew you less than 24 hours, and shot a serial killer to keep you alive. That's what I do. I protect you. Tried to at least. Always." He says with a small nod of his head, eyes closed now so he doesn't see the look on the other man's face, taking a deep breath before he sighs, starting to drift back into unconsciousness.
"I won't disappear." Sherlock reassures, listening and watching John drift off. Slowly, he stands up once he's sure that John is asleep, and he slowly leans over, kissing his forehead tenderly, glad no one is there to see that. "What have you done to me, John Watson. On paper, Mycroft is right, you are not remarkable. But you keep surprising me. I want you to keep surprising me. I believe you can make me become a better person, John." he says softly to the unconscious man, stroking the blonde locks back from his forehead slowly with a tender hand.
Even though he's asleep, John shifts a little when Sherlock talks to him and touches his skin, wincing and then letting out a little sigh, lips parting, whispering something that the young detective isn't even sure that he heard correctly, and it isn't repeated.
"Love you, Sh'lock.."
Oh, gosh.. I just can't control myself tonight! At least this wasn't as bad as the ending to chapter 6. I did promise to get a chapter up tonight, and here you are! John will be fine, really. He got off easy, considering he got hit by a car.
Next: How will Sherlock handle an injured John? Will they ever get their date?!
Hope you all enjoy this, I probably won't update again until Friday, because I want to update one of my other stories, but we'lll see how things go!
Comments/reviews welcome!
