Chapter 4:
The days following that brutal first revelation opened a door of unprecedented horror and vulnerability to Sherlock and John. Horror, because John had an impossible time wrapping his mind around the little he was told. Vulnerability, because their relationship completely changed after that.
John couldn't think about the methods of all that was done to Sherlock. He couldn't bring himself to think back on that conversation's exact wording. So, he instead wrote down the medical consequences in a "patient journal" he created just for Sherlock.
"What is that?" Sherlock came limping in one night after taking a case on his own. John smiled up at him.
"I've taken what you told me a few nights back and I'm logging down the medical names for all of it. So, I will know exactly what sort of treatment plan I should come up with for you." John reached up and caressed Sherlock's face as he leaned over to see the journal. Sherlock smiled with gratitude that would have looked alien on his face before.
"You're very accurate. Some of these I described only vaguely." Sherlock traced his finger over a column of text that read as follows: Evisceration, surgically prolonged. Partial impalation. Hip dysplasia in a male patient, caused by partial impalation. Contusion with an insertion of a small chemical bag in the viscera. Note: Chemical substance may have been an undocumented hallucinogenic. Note cont. Minor internal incineration is to be expected at the contusion site, resulting in internal 2nd and 3rd-degree burns. Minor damage to the spinal column, the result of prolonged partial impalation. Chemical castration followed by violent surgical castration, resulting in temporary renal dysfunction. Note: The second attempt was the direct process of the evisceration and resulted in massive blood loss and laceration damage to the pelvic bone. Multiple stabbing wounds causing intramuscular malformation in poorly sutured wounds...The list continued, but John wasn't even a twelfth of the way done. John shuddered.
"Yes, well, I'm a doctor. You're a detective." John tapped the pencil to the paper, trying to say anything to break the awkward silence. Sherlock had winced when he saw that John had listed the brutal chemical castration episode. He had only vaguely described that to John, but John was extremely good at his job. Sherlock was a bit embarrassed by some of the things that had happened to him. Doctor Watson smiled at his patient, reassuring him that he had no reason to feel that way.
"Right…?" Sherlock sucked his teeth, trying to find something to say. John swallowed. He thought he'd better play the part of the doctor now.
"It's going to be alright. Now that you've told me, we can reverse any severe complications to the healing process. You shouldn't have any major disabilities down the road." John nodded. Sherlock smiled.
"Good. Knew I could count on you for that." Sherlock smiled again, but this was sadder, more shamed. John nodded toward the shower.
"You've got a week's worth of rain sticking to you, mate. Why not shower?" John waved with his hand. Sherlock shrugged his coat off.
"Thank you, I needed your permission." Sherlock called over his shoulder with a teasing purr that was meant to sound hateful but only made John smile.
John continued his task until he heard a loud thud. One that would have startled most people. Being an army medic, John just felt his stomach drop with concern. He got up, and carefully jogged into Sherlock's room.
The young man had simply passed out from breathing in the shower water's steam while previously light-headed. John swallowed, finding him naked on the floor near his bed. Now that he saw all of the woundings he had chronicled on paper, it was so much more a real and brutal realization.
"Sherlock?" John swallowed the urge to cry from having seen the whole bloody picture of Sherlock's recent past. He had a job to do. Slapping Sherlock's cheek got him no response. His young friend would be out cold for a while.
First, John set to proving what had caused Sherlock's fainting spell and reached the same conclusion described above. Then, he checked his wounds to make sure they weren't bleeding externally or internally which would contribute to his fainting spell.
He found a new bruise on his stomach, probably from bumping up against a table or another object while he was off at work. That was a truly minor setback to the injury, but the pain alone was enough to make him light-headed.
"Well, you're not dying, so that's good." John wrapped Sherlock again in the towel he'd had on his person before he fell down. He then proceeded to dry him off with another towel and dress him like he was a child.
"You've gotten scrawnier than ever before, haven't you, you little rooster, eh? Alright...Come on." John scooped Sherlock off the floor. He carried him bridal style on his way to the settee where he'd left his medical kit.
"Oh my God! Dear God is he?! Is he?!" Mrs. Hudson was the last person John expected to run into as he made his way nervously to the living room.
"No, no, dear, don't worry. He fainted." John smoothed Sherlock's wet hair down. He was slightly miffed that there was no struggle with his weight, only with his greater height as he shuffled across the room.
Mrs. Hudson was shaking. She had dropped a tin of cookies on the floor. Must have been coming upstairs to share them with her boys.
"Why on earth has he fainted? Is he...He's not using drugs again, is he? Oh, John!" Mrs. Hudson covered her mouth. John smiled.
"No...He...Dear, when Sherlock was away he was captured and hurt by some pretty scary people. He still has some health problems because of it. I think he was cold from being rained on earlier, had the shower too hot. Must have fainted from breathing in all that steam while he was already a bit dizzy." John knew he was chattering, but for now, it was keeping them both calm. He was surprised at his own capacity for gentleness when he laid Sherlock down and adjusted his body for potential shock. He pulled a light blanket over Sherlock's limp body and smiled at his work. Unfortunately, this little domestic pause gave Mrs. Hudson time to process.
"My Sherlock's been tortured?!" Mrs. Hudson was crying now. John could kick himself for not breaking that at a better time.
He went to her then and hugged her close.
"Shh...He's going to be alright." John realized even he didn't believe that at the moment.
"But, if that's the case, then why's he fainting from taking a bloody shower!" Mrs. Hudson was frantic. John kissed her forehead.
"Well, he's been in a bit of pain and I think he gets light-headed sometimes. I suppose the medicine I've had him on is not a strong enough dosage." John proceeded to release Mrs. Hudson and move to Sherlock to tend to him. He prepped his arm to inject a better, non-conflicting painkiller into his arm instead once he got him conscious. Mrs. Hudson started cleaning up her cookies. Then, she cried out softly, sobbing all over again.
"My Sherlock's in that much pain from being tortured?" Mrs. Hudson had to sit down. John was blinking back tears now. He knelt near Sherlock again and started gently patting his cheek.
"We're just gonna get him to come to and then give him this so he can sleep, yeah?" John laid the needle down on the table beside him and gave Sherlock a gentle shake. Mrs. Hudson watched nervously. Sherlock was still unresponsive.
"Sherlock? Hey, you need to wake up, mate so I can give you this other medicine. It will make you sleep until Christmas, but you'll feel better." John leaned close to Sherlock's face hoping the sound of his voice would finally wake him up. It worked. His eyes fluttered open and he looked from John to Mrs. Hudson and back to John with extreme nervousness.
"You...You fainted from the shower." John explained, lamely.
"I figured." Sherlock apparently could make deductions while mostly unconscious now. John laughed softly.
"Are you in a lot of pain?" John indicated the syringe. Sherlock nodded sheepishly.
John injected the painkiller without another word. Sherlock was smiling at him like he'd just told him he'd won a billion dollars before he finally nodded off. John smiled.
"Okay, that's good. Sleep it off." John ran his fingers through Sherlock's hair one more time. Then, he stood up and went to Mrs. Hudson to treat her for her sudden scare.
"Want to go to the kitchen to talk about it? Let him sleep?" John eased Mrs. Hudson to her feet.
"I...Oh, right. Yes, let's let him sleep." Mrs. Hudson leaned pitifully on John and they both shot one sad and awkward little glance back at Sherlock who seemed to be at heavenly peace for the moment.
