John and Sherlock were herded rather unceremoniously out of Innes' room at just before nine o'clock by a rather maternal looking nurse with bright red hair scraped back into an old fashioned bun and a big grin plastered across her face.
"He'll be alright for the night." She told them as she led them out towards the end of the ward. "We'll look after the wee lamb! You just make sure you two are rested and I'm sure we'll see you in the morning!" John had been incredibly reluctant to leave Innes' side; Sherlock could understand why, but he also thought that starting an argument with the hospital staff over it probably wouldn't gain them anything. John had ruffled Innes' hair and kissed his forehead before finally accompanying the nurse.
"I've got the car with me…" Sherlock told John as they reached the entrance of the hospital and became aware of just how dark it had got while they were inside. John didn't speak, he just nodded glumly; his face was set in a very solemn manner and he wasn't raising his gaze any higher than Sherlock's knees – he didn't seem to want to interact and Sherlock kept throwing glances over at him as they sat in the car. He wasn't sure what would be the best way to initiate conversation… or whether he should even try at all! Maybe John's silence was indicative of the fact he didn't want to talk.. He didn't want to ask John if he was alright, because that would be the most utterly idiotic question to ask when Innes was in hospital…
Sherlock had barely followed John into their living room in 221B when John was rummaging about in amongst the bookshelves that lined the walls – he eventually pulled down some medical textbooks and slammed them onto the kitchen table. He began to flick rather violently through the pages, his eyes scanning the pages at real speed. Sherlock could tell what John was looking for without having to ask.
"Glomerulonephritis…" He said slowly, running his fingers along the pages; without looking up he carried the book across the room and sat down in the armchair with it in his lap.
"Would you like a cup of tea or something?" Sherlock asked John.
"No." John replied abruptly, still not looking up from the book that was placed on his knee. It was clear from his tone of voice that he didn't want company, and Sherlock didn't want to force his company upon John.
He left John in the chair and went up to their bedroom, sitting down on the edge of his bed and then collapsing back so he was lying looking up at the ceiling. It wasn't even ten o'clock yet and he hadn't reckoned on feeling tired. He had expected that he would be awake all night with worry about Innes; but now he was home and lying down, he couldn't deny the waves of exhaustion that were rolling over him now. Perhaps it was because he had spent most of the day feeling like he had been treading on egg shells, not wanting to annoy John. Sherlock hated having to consciously think about being considerate – it just wasn't in his general thought process, so when he had to do it, it took a lot more effort. So the effort from that as well as having to not explode in rage at the overly touchy John, he was exhausted…
Sherlock couldn't pinpoint the time that he fell asleep, he hadn't even registered that he was falling asleep as he lay on the bed. He remembered collapsing back onto the bed, then the next thing he could recall was slowly drifting into consciousness, with the weight of his arm across his face. At some point he had raised his arm up and covered his eyes with it, nestling his nose in the crook of his elbow. Perhaps he had been trying to black out the light which he had left on.
Sitting up he checked the time on the digital alarm clock that was on John's night stand, it was quarter to eight. He rubbed his face and got up; he had fallen asleep in his clothes from the previous day – it had been a while since he had done that. What struck him most was john's absence. It was quite clear that John hadn't come up to go to bed – surely he hadn't stayed up all night! As the nurse that had chucked them out of Innes' room had said, the two of them not resting would be useless for them and for Innes. It seemed very odd that on the day that Innes had been admitted into hospital, Sherlock had gotten the most amount of sleep he had had in months… He washed his face quickly in the small en suite bathroom which was joined to their bedroom and changed his clothes. If he and John were going to head back into the hospital for the beginning of visiting hours the they would have to do that pretty shortly.
Sherlock crept down the stairs; he wasn't quite sure what he was going to meet when he got down there. He almost sighed in relief when, as he reached the bottom of the staircase, he could already see that John was fast asleep in his armchair, still with one of the textbooks he had pulled down last night on his lap and a pile of ones he had clearly been through littering the floor. At least he wasn't awake and pacing the room, wearing himself out. But waking John abruptly from sleep wasn't likely to put John into the best of moods – but he had to think about what was more important: John being in a good mood, or the two of them getting to the hospital early to see Innes? He would have to forgo John's mood in favour of Innes.
"John," Sherlock tapped John on the shoulder lightly. "John? Wake up." John jerked very suddenly, as though he had just been dozing.
"Wha – what?" He murmured, opening his eyes sleepily and staring up at Sherlock.
"It's nearly eight o'clock." Sherlock tolr him.
"Eight… Eight o'clock! Jesus, why didn't you wake me earlier Sherlock?!" John's eyes had widened when Sherlock had mentioned the time, but as he had predicted, John had sounded grumpy and annoyed.
"I've only just woken up myself… And you didn't come up to bed last night." Sherlock replied, trying to sound calm.
"Oh god, we're going to be really late for the beginning of visiting hours now!" He had jumped up from the chair that had been his resting place for that night, and he now was racing up the stairs to go and get changed. Sherlock stood stock still, folding his arms across his chest and he knew he was frowning, but he didn't care. How the hell was it his fault that John hadn't woken up earlier? He sighed; he didn't want to argue with John, so he made the decision right there and then that he was going to put up with it. John could bitch at him all he wanted, but he wasn't going to retaliate.
"Come on then! Or we'll be even later than we already are!" John called harshly, returning from up the stairs after changing quickly.
"Okay then." Sherlock answered, clenching his jaw tight.
Sherlock had grabbed the car keys; he wanted to drive – mainly because driving would force his mind into thinking about something other than Innes or John. He didn't have to worry about John berating him while he was driving either, because John had realised that he had to update his work about what was going on and that he wouldn't be in for at least a couple of days.
"Are they alright with you taking some time off?" Sherlock asked lightly, trying to bring conversation into a more pleasant tone between the two of them.
"Well they've got to be." John replied gruffly. "All they're doing is planning a new textbook; if they can't do that without me then they really need to get new staff!" This response wasn't exactly what Sherlock had hoped for, so he resealed his mouth.
They arrived at the hospital twenty minutes before visiting times started; Sherlock could tell that John was considering disregarding these times and trying to go up to see Innes early, so to stall them for just a bit he suggested that they should get some breakfast… or at least a cup of tea. After all, neither of them knew if Innes would be better enough for them to be able to get food regularly. John took up on this suggestion and bought himself a sandwich for breakfast – Sherlock watched him eating as he sipped at a cup of coffee. Silently he wished that Innes had gotten much better overnight, otherwise he wasn't sure how he – or more precisely – John would react and cope.
The red headed nurse who had shepherded them out last night was sitting at the nurse's desk in the ward.
"Good morning!" She said, gratingly cheerily, coming out from behind the nurse's desk. "I thought we'd be seeing you two, bright and early as well! Now, Dr. Connors wanted to see the two of you before you go in to see Innes – no, it's alright!" She added very suddenly, as both Sherlock and John had shown signs of arrest. "I'll go and find her, wait here for a moment." She bustled off along the ward to find Dr. Connors, leaving Sherlock and John waiting at the desk. John rapped his fingers impatiently on the desk top and Sherlock stood watching him. The nurse reappeared alongside Dr. Connors; the two of them appeared in deep conversation as they walked along the corridor.
"Dr. Watson, Mr. Holmes – I wanted to give you some consent forms to sign so we can start some tests for Innes." Dr. Connors said as she reached the nurse's desk. "I didn't want to have to disturb you once you're with Innes." She was pulling out a file from behind the front desk and laying them on top of the counter. John barely glanced at them before he scribbled his signature at the bottom of them. "That's fantastic, wonderful." She nodded, refilling them back into what must be Innes' case notes. "Innes has had a bit of a fever during the night, we had to bring in a fan to try and cool him down." She informed them as they walked along the corridor towards Innes' room. Innes was still asleep in the bed, but the duvet that had been covering him had been removed and a thin sheet was over him instead and a fan was propped on a chair next to his bed blowing cold air in his direction. His face was still quite flushed despite him being asleep, and a new IV had been hooked up – with the antibiotics that they had been told about last night attached. John was instantly at Innes' bedside, he ran his fingers gently over Innes' cheek; while Sherlock lingered back. Innes didn't wake, but moved fractionally – perhaps he was acknowledging their presence even in his sleep.
Dr. Connors left them for around half an hour, in which John didn't move from next to Innes' bedside and Sherlock sat down, watching the two of them. When she returned she was accompanied by a porter and a nurse, to take Innes away for some more tests.
"We shouldn't be too long." She told them reassuringly, as they watched the porter wheel Innes' bed out of the room.
John sat down once Innes had been taken away for tests; he had spent last night combing through all of the medical textbooks he owned – trying to research everything he could about glomerulonephritis, it's treatments, and what else it could be a sign of… He wished he had paid a little bit more attention to the consent forms he had signed, even to check what tests they were doing on Innes now. All he had wanted at that time was to see Innes.
A/N: As always, I'd love to know what you think of this chapter/story so far! :)