Second chapter of the day, as promised!
MJCF: Sherlock
Me: Greg
Shared: Dr Smith
Warnings for this chapter: tooth-rotting fluff
Sherlock awoke gently. He snuggled up to the warm body next to him.
'Hi, Daddy,' he whispered softly. Greg tensed slightly but couldn't stop the swell of pride and warmth that radiated through his chest. He relaxed and hugged Sherlock close, kissing his temple.
'Hi son,' he whispered back.
'You don't mind me calling you daddy?' Sherlock whispered softly.
'No. Not at all,' Greg said equally as soft. 'Because I've been thinking of you as my son for quite some time now.'
Sherlock grinned. 'Wuvv you, Daddy.'
'Love you too.' He kissed Sherlock's forehead again and hummed. 'Feeling a little better?'
'A little,' Sherlock nodded. 'But my arm's really itchy.'
'Yeah. It'll be like that for a while,' Greg said softly, inspecting the red bumps by the injection site. 'But please do your best not to scratch, ok? It's like chicken pox. The more you scratch the worse it gets.'
'But it's really itchy!' Sherlock exclaimed, his fingers brushing over the red bumps.
'No.' Greg moved his hand away and called for a nurse. She immediately saw the bumps and applied an itch cream before bandaging Sherlock's arm.
'Please try not to scratch, Sherlock,' Greg said softly. 'Want to colour to take your mind off the itch?'
'Yeah. Colour! Did you buy a colouring book, Daddy?' Sherlock smiled widely.
'I bought two,' Greg smiled, sliding off the bed and shifting Sherlock's bed up. He moved the table over so it rested over Sherlock's lap and then grabbed the Tesco bag. He pulled out a pirate book and an animal book, hoping that there would be some bees to colour inside.
'And I got a big box of crayons too,' he grinned at Sherlock's ecstatic face. He pulled out the 64 crayon box and sat it by the books. He sat across from Sherlock on the bed and opened the box of crayons. 'What do you want to colour first?'
'Pirates!' Sherlock chorused joyously, a permanent smile scrawled on his features.
'Ok. I'll colour some animals.' Greg handed Sherlock the pirate book and opened the animal book to a striped cat. He immediately thought of Lily and decided to colour the cartoon cat like her. He pulled out an orange crayon and slowly started colouring, making sure to stay in the lines. Sherlock happily dove into the pirate colouring book. He chose to colour in a picture of two pirates fighting. He coloured it in so it looked just like Daddy and himself. Once he was done he burst into a fit of giggles.
'What'd ya colour?' Greg asked, looking up from his Lily cat.
'Us, Daddy, look.' Sherlock showed him the picture of the curly haired pirate fighting the slightly bigger, silver-haired pirate.
'Oh! Looks like we're having fun,' Greg smiled.
'Lots of fun! Wanna become a pirate with me?'
'Sure. But not in hospital. When we get back to the hotel. We can go swimming and play pirates in the pool.'
'Ok, Daddy. We'll be pirates then. And I can use my wooden sword!'
'I'll see if Myc can make me one too. Maybe we can all be pirates one day.'
Sherlock giggled. 'Croft is a super pirate! He makes people walk the plank!'
'Yes he does,' Greg laughed. 'Colour a Croft pirate.'
Sherlock giggled and chose a suitable pirate. He was a little bit plump and lazy looking, but he looked quite fierce too. Greg continued colouring in the Lily cat. She was coming along nicely. He was working on her eyes when Sherlock tapped his shoulder gently.
'Finish your Croft pirate?' he asked with a grin.
Sherlock nodded eagerly and held it up for his daddy to see. 'Do you like it? I know pirates don't normally eat cake but I thought for Croft I could make an exception.'
'Pirates can eat cake if they want it. They probably steal it from the ships they plunder.' He looked at the Mycroft pirate and laughed. 'Looks a lot like him though. You colour really well.'
'Thanks, Daddy,' Sherlock grinned. 'What shall I colour in next?'
'A pirate ship,' Greg smiled. 'I'm gonna finish my kitty and then you can look for a bee to colour in here.'
'What's your kitty called?' Sherlock asked, peering over to have a look at it. 'She's pretty.'
'Her name's Lily,' Greg smiled. 'And yeah, she's very pretty. And a good girl.'
Sherlock smirked. 'We should bring her over to visit Sher. He'd like her.'
'You remember Lily?' Greg asked, looking up from his picture.
Sherlock shrugged. 'Sometimes I dream about my other life.'
'What do you dream about?' Greg asked softly. 'Nice things?'
'Sometimes,' Sherlock smiled. 'Really nice things. Other times... not so nice things.'
'Do you dream more about the nice things than the bad?'
'No. Mainly bad things. Scary dreams.'
'Like what? Or do you not want to tell me?'
'Dun wanna tell you.' Sherlock worried at his lips. 'Bad things, Daddy. Really bad things.'
'Are they just dreams or do they feel like memories?' he asked softly.
'Memories.' Sherlock's lower lip trembled.
'Oh, hun. Come here.' He moved the table aside and moved up to hold Sherlock in his arms. Sherlock wasn't quite sure why but he burst into tears and became a shaking ball in his daddy's arms.
'Shhh. It's ok, Lock. Shhh. Go ahead and cry. Get it all out.' He hugged Sherlock close and pressed tender kisses to the top of his head.
'I hate this! I just wanna be normal! I don't like this! Help me Daddy. Please! Help me!'
'What can I do, Sherlock?' Greg said, hugging Sherlock close. 'What do you need?'
'I need my life to make sense! I need the bad dreams to stop! Wanna go home!'
'You want to go home? Back to Croft?'
Sherlock choked out a small 'yes' and clutched his daddy tighter.
'Ok. We'll go home today.' He hugged Sherlock close and hummed softly. He wasn't sure exactly what he was humming but it quickly morphed into what sounded like a Disney song. Sherlock's sobs subsided and he smiled into his daddy's chest.
'Love you, Daddy. Wanna be just like you when I grow up.'
'You wanna be a police officer when you grow up?' Greg asked with a small smile.
Sherlock grinned and nodded enthusiastically. 'Wanna help Daddy solve crimes.'
'Ok. Yeah. You can work with me. Maybe I'll take you to work one day. But you can only talk to me if I do, ok?'
Sherlock looked puzzled. 'Why, Daddy?'
'Because the people at work still think you're dead,' Greg explained softly. 'In your other life you worked with me, but you weren't a police officer. You were a consulting detective. You helped put a lot of bad guys away. But a few people didn't like your helping. But they were just jealous of how smart you were. So please, if I take you to work, only speak to me, ok?'
'Ok, Daddy. Can I go to your work soon? Wanna see what you do.'
'Soon, yes. But I don't know when. I'll work something out. Promise.'
'Thank you, Daddy. Wuvv you, Daddy.'
'Love you too, Sherlock.' He kissed his forehead and sighed softly. 'Ready to go home? I think you can go now.'
'Yup! Wanna go home! Wanna go home! Please, Daddy!'
'Easy. Settle down. You're gonna have to rest for a couple months because your heart was hurt quite a bit.' He pressed the call button and summoned a nurse.
'We'd like to go home. Is he ok to leave?'
'I'll check him over before he's dismissed,' she nodded. Greg slid off the bed and allowed the nurse to check Sherlock over. He packed up the colouring books and crayons, waiting patiently out of the way as the nurse completed her checkup.
'Can I go home?' Sherlock asked the nurse, his eyes hopeful.
'Yes, sweetie, you can go home. Let me just get the doctor and he'll write you a prescription for your pain and to help you sleep at night.'
Sherlock's eyes widened. 'Pain?'
'For your withdrawals,' Greg explained when the nurse scuttled off. 'The drug the bad man gave you is very addictive and you're going to want more. You'll get headaches and you'll refuse to eat or sleep. So the pills are going to help you get better.'
'I dun wanna be in pain. I dun wanna hurt, Daddy.' Sherlock swallowed loudly. 'Why did the bad man give me the drug? What did I do wrong? Why didn't I turn into a real pirate?'
'He lied to you, Sherlock,' Greg said, sitting back on the bed and pulling Sherlock into his lap. 'In your other life you bought drugs from the bad man's brother. But we caught him and put him in jail. The bad man was mad and wanted revenge. So he gave you a very dangerous dose of a very addictive drug to hurt you. But you're going to be ok. We caught the bad man and he's gonna be in jail too.'
'Why did older me buy drugs?' Sherlock asked, a little befuddled. 'Why would he wanna end up in hospital? Was he insane?'
'No. He didn't do drugs to end up in hospital. He took them because they slowed down his very fast brain. But then he started helping me and he got a lot better. Even more so when he met John, the nice blonde haired man in your head.'
'I can't wait to meet him in real life. Do you think he'll like this version on me?' Sherlock nibbled on his lower lip.
'I don't know,' Greg said honestly. 'I'd like to think that he would, but I think he'd be scared and confused at first. But I'm sure he'd grow to like the new you.'
Sherlock smiled softly and glanced up at the door as the same doctor that had helped him earlier came walking through the door.
'Hello, Mr Holmes. I'm Doctor Smith. Remember me?' Sherlock nodded. 'Good,' Doctor Smith continued. 'How are you feeling right now?'
'Mmm ok,' Sherlock mumbled shyly, burying his head in his daddy's shoulder.
'He's shy,' Greg explained. 'And he really wants to go home. Could you explain to him what's gonna happen to him during his withdrawals? He doesn't exactly remember the other times he went through them.'
Sherlock peeped out at the doctor but still kept his face partially hidden in his daddy's chest. He listened as the doctor explained what was going to happen to him, his eyes widening by the second.
'Of course, your family will be with you every step of the way,' the doctor concluded, looking at Greg with a soft smile.
'Yes, of course,' he readily agreed. 'Myc and I will be at your service, Sherlock. Anything you need, anything at all, we'll help you with it. Promise.'
Sherlock whimpered and nuzzled his daddy's chest, nodding silently.
'And this blatant brain injury,' the doctor mused. 'When did it start?'
'As far as I know, a few months ago,' Greg said softly, petting Sherlock's hair. 'He was dumped on my husband's doorstep some months ago, tortured and bloodied beyond belief. He had the mentality of a five year old at the time. Now he's eight. He'll probably be nine soon. He seems to age a year a month. At least mentally.'
'Is he aware of his situation?'
'Yes. I told him the other day. He's a child in the body of a thirty-seven-year-old man. He knows what's going on.'
'Ok. Well, if you two need anything while his mind heals or during the detox and withdrawals, don't hesitate to call. You're free to go home now.'
'Take me home, Daddy,' Sherlock pleaded softly. 'I dun like it here. Wanna go home.'
'Daddy?' The doctor raised an eyebrow at the two men, clearly assessing their age difference and coming up with a number in the single digits.
'He thinks he's eight,' Greg said again. 'To him I'm his dad. Now go. I'll call if we need anything.'
'Of course. Yes. I need to search for Sam anyway. Seems he's wandered off again. Come along Ruby.' The nurse followed the doctor out of the room, leaving Sherlock and Greg alone.
'Come on, Lock. Let's go home,' Greg smiled softly.
'Can you carry me?' Sherlock asked quietly. 'My legs feel funny. Dunno if I'd be able to walk.'
'Sure, love.' Greg stood and grabbed the Tesco bags first, securing them before moving to grab Sherlock. 'Hold on tight,' he said as he picked Sherlock up, cradling an arm under his bum as he hoisted him up, Sherlock's legs dangling by his sides.
Sherlock gripped onto him tightly. 'Thank you, Daddy.' He kissed his daddy's cheek.
'You're welcome, love. Come on. Let's go home.' He carried Sherlock out of the room and outside into the fresh-yet-dry August air. A sleek black car was waiting for them at the kerb. Greg helped Sherlock inside and put the bags in the boot, noting that the suitcase from the hotel as well as all the Cake Boy boxes were inside. Courtesy of Mycroft.
'And what's been done with my car?' Greg asked the driver as he sat beside Sherlock.
'It has been driven home, sir,' the man answered.
'Oh. Well. Ok then.' Greg huffed and looked out the window, trying not to fall asleep just yet. He could sleep once he got home. Maybe with Sherlock curled against him. They both seemed to sleep better that way.
Sherlock clutched his daddy tightly. 'Can you sing to me, Daddy?' he asked softly. 'Wan ya to sing to me so I can sleep.'
'Sure. I can sing to ya.' He held Sherlock a little closer and smoothed a hand through his hair. Then he began singing softly.
'Yo ho, yo ho, a pirate's life for me.
We pillage plunder, we rifle and loot. Drink up me 'earties, yo ho.
We kidnap and ravage and don't give a hoot. Drink up me 'earties, yo ho. Yo ho, yo ho, a pirate's life for me.'
Sherlock closed his eyes, a big, sleepy smile frozen on his features. 'Wuvv you, Daddy. Gonna go t' sleep.'
'Ok. Go to sleep my little pirate.' Greg continued to hum the song when he reached parts where he didn't know the words, smoothing a hand through Sherlock's curls all the while. Sherlock fell asleep easily, the song pulling him into some lovely pirate filled dreams. Greg continued to hum the song as they arrived home. The driver opened the door for him and he slid out, still humming, and carried Sherlock to the guest room. He helped him out of his clothes so he was only in his pants and then helped him into bed. He then stripped off his own clothes except for his pants and t-shirt and crawled in next to Sherlock. He hummed until he felt he'd reached the end of the song and closed his eyes, listening to Sherlock's deep breathing as he too fell asleep.
Next chapter has Holmes family quality time. So lots more fluff with just a tiny bit of angst due to Sherlock's withdrawal symptoms. But everything will be OK. People are learning and adapting and soon John will come back into the picture. And what a glorious time it will be.
New chapter next Sunday! See you then!
TSA + MJCF
