Lestrade and Mrs. Hudson where surprised to see that Sherlock was standing outside of John's room as they approached room 293. Things began to make more sense as they saw that Sherlock appeared to be talking very animatedly with a member of the nursing staff who was growing more and more distraught with each word that was said to her. Lestrade quickened his pace jogging down the hallway. Catching the last of Sherlock's bitter and venomously whispered tirade at the woman just before she ran off nearly in tears.
"If you are constantly causing the patients under your care more pain and duress then it is no wonder that your boyfriend is wholly unsupportive of your career in medicine. Perhaps he is correct in his judgment that you should find different employment."
Lestrade placed a hand on Sherlock's shoulder and the man immediately tensed whirling and refocusing his anger and frustration on a new target.
"Whoa, whoa easy now what's gotten you so worked up Sherlock" Lestrade said slowly putting his hands up in a placating manner and taking a step back.
"That woman…That sorry excuse for a medical practitioner! She was practically torturing John, if this is the best care this hospital can offer I should get John released into an alternate care provider immediately. That sadists will never step foot in that room again." Sherlock seethed.
"Sherlock take a deep breath and calm down." Lestrade suggested completely expecting the sarcastic eye roll he received in return, but Sherlock did take a deep breath. "Alright now explain to me with facts not exaggerations what happened with the nurse." Lestrade said taking a small amount of pleasure in using one of Sherlock's lines on the man himself. Perhaps if nothing else came from this terrible accident Sherlock might gain a small modicum of empathy for the family members he harasses at crime scenes.
"I had been in my mind palace organizing…my thoughts" Sherlock explained hesitating briefly to find the right words at the end. "When I became aware of the sound of John practically keening in pain." When I looked up that woman had practically sat on John's chest in order to pin his arms and was practically assaulting John's already injured skull in her sorry attempt at changing the bandage. When I told her that she needed to increase John's pain medication, she stated she could not, completely ignoring the moans of pain coming from John as she yanked the bandages around his skull. She did not even attempt to explain to John what was going on. I attempted to turn John's medication up myself but she removed the key from the machine before I could adjust it. Eventually John appeared to pass out from the pain and at that point I could not stand her blatant disregards for John's pain and left for the hallway. When she left the room shortly after I made it perfectly clear to her that her sadistic behavior would be reported." Sherlock stated crossing his arms against his chest and looking away from Lestrade with a look of self-righteous disdain on his face.
Lestrade let out a heavy sigh, he had supposed it would only be a matter of time before the "in shock" Sherlock wore off and petulant man/child Sherlock made his presence known. He had hoped it would have been after his visit but after knowing Sherlock for so many years he was use to this.
"Sherlock did you consider the fact that the nurse may have explained everything to John before she began but due to his head injury he did not fully understand or remember. In addition, that same head injury could have caused John to be highly combative to normal routine care." Lestrade asked patiently giving Sherlock an expectant look as that information sunk in.
"Yes…well…even if that were so, which I'm not saying, she could have at least raised John's dosage." Sherlock stated irritably.
"Sherlock!" This time Lestrades voice had a some edge to it he could not afford for Sherlock not to acknowledge his next words. "You of all people should recognize the necessity of ensuring that John is not administered to much pain medication. I know that your brother has gained you full access to John's room but if I suspect that you may cause him harm by being here I will have you removed. You will not adjust John's medication, do you understand me." Lestrade stated firmly, not quite yelling but in what some of the boys at the station deemed his "disappointed father" tone. Initially Sherlock's eyes were aflame with indignation and fury as he glared back at Lestrade. However, as what he had said truly sunk in the flame went out and the man visibly deflated.
"I never thought about John getting addicted," Sherlock mumbled to himself. These stupid emotions are inhibiting my ability to think. Sherlock mentally screamed in frustration.
"Come on dearie, lets go see how the good doctor is doing." Mrs Hudson said having quietly moved beside the two men after catching up with Lestrade.
As the three of them moved into the small room Mrs Hudson let out a small gasp covering her mouth and moved to John's side immediately attempting to mother the unconscious ex-soldier. "O you poor thing…" She muttered as she tucked in his blankets around him, brushed his fringe of hair out of his eyes and mopped the fresh sheen of sweat from his brow.
Sherlock collapsed back onto the couch in his overly dramatic fashion and preceded to steeple his fingers under his chin while staring off in to space. Lestrade simply shook his head at the young man whom he had grown quite fond of in an 'I occasionally want to murder you' sort of way over the course of their many years working together. However, considering how long I've known Sherlock I have to admit that the man has grown exponentially as a human being since coming in contact with John Watson. Lestrade thought to himself as he moved forward to look at John lying limply in his hospital bed. He hoped for the sake of both John and Sherlock that the man had a complete and uneventful recovery. With a sigh he moved to sit beside Sherlock on the couch pulling the manila file from his jacket and waiting patiently for the younger man to finish collecting his thoughts. Mrs. Hudson had begun fixing tea and unloading the biscuits and cakes she had brought along for the boys from the bag she had left over by the door.
With a collected exhale and his cold sociopathic mask back in place Sherlock turned to acknowledge Lestrades presence.
"I believe you had a case you wanted to discuss." He stated.
"Well it's a kidnapping turned into a murder but there is no sign of a break in and the only individual besides the parents who had that kind of access to the house was the one who was murdered. We found absolutely no murder weapon and I waited tell I received the coroners report to come see you." Lestrade explained attempting to garner Sherlock's curiosity right from the start. He handed the file over as he continued. "On top of needing to find the boy within the golden 24 hours there is the added complication of who he is, the only son to the Duke of Devonshire. There are quite a few higher-ups leaning heavily on the department as a result, so we would like to solve this as fast as possible." Lestrade stated running his fingers through his hair the stress from the day clearly starting to catch up with him. Sherlock was silent for about five minutes as he poured over every detail of the case file.
The parents arrived back to their London flat in Chesham Palace early in the morning after a trip abroad to discover their nanny dead in the kitchen and their seven-year-old son missing. The front door had been locked when they arrived home. Nothing was stolen even though the house was full of valuable items. The boy however, was missing. His room appeared to have been ransacked clothing was scattered everywhere and drawers were left open. The bed however was still made, the bookshelf relatively orderly…although a book or two was missing, and the door to the room was found shut. The coroners report stated the cause of death as a stress induced myocardial infarction or heart attack. The kitchen was fairly mundane as well, there was one chair nocked over near the Nanny but it appeared she had grasped the chair while falling over. The pantry was open as well but nothing appeared to be missing or ransacked within that either. Near the elderly woman's feet was a broom laying hap hazardously across the floor. Although no pile of dirt was present. When he inspected closer he also noticed a loop of kit string tied to the broom handle but it appeared that what ever had been tied to it had been cut off. Ah, he thought as everything came together in his mind. Then with some disappointment he thought. This interesting but easy. Sometimes he really didn't understand how the New Scotland Yard detectives could be so inept.
"Really Lestrade, this case is truly quite simple." Sherlock began already preparing his usual insults, however, as he looked back up and caught sight of John motionlessly lying in the bed he stopped. Suddenly finding that without the knowledge that his dramatic listing of deductions would be greeted with a 'that's brilliant' from John there seemed to be little joy in the act anymore. He couldn't see the point in demonstrating how useless Anderson and his theories had been or how incompetent Lestrade's team was seemed to have lost all its allure. Looking away and closing the file Sherlock continued in a much more subdued voice. "There was no kidnapping. You saw what you expected to see and ignored evidence to the contrary. What occurred was far from your ordinary crime scene but if you look at all of the evidence its the only fit. The boy attempting to ease his boredom decided to play a prank on his nanny. He set up a fairly classic prank of attaching a scary mask or image to a broom handle and left the broom so that when the pantry was opened the broom would fall forward. The nanny being quite elderly could not handle the scar and ended up suffering a heart attack. The boy just old enough to realize that something had gone terribly wrong with his prank decided to run away. If you look out the tree outside his room you will see scuff marks in the bark caused by a small individual climbing down the tree. Everywhere you are currently searching is based off the assumption that the boy was kidnapped. What you are actually looking for is a seven year old run away." Sherlock finished in a dry tone.
"Oh my how terrible," Mrs Hudson whispered as she handed Sherlock and Lestrade cups of tea.
"Sherlock this is only slightly better than if he had been kidnapped. I seriously doubt the seven-year-old son of an aristocratic family will do very well on the streets of London." Lestrade asked anxiously as he quickly typed out a text on his cell phone. "The parents probably won't even accept this as a theory until we have their son back either. I'm going to have to run interference so that the higher-ups don't realize we are pursuing this avenue. Do you have any guesses as to where the boy might have gone?" He added as an afterthought sighing in resignation at the increased headache.
"I do not guess Lestrade," Sherlock stated with disdain but none of his usual rancor he seemed to have spent most of his pent up frustration on the nurse and now he was back to just feeling numb again.
"Sherlock please, a little boys life is at risk," Lestraded countered.
"Hand me a pen," Sherlock sighed grabbing the manila file back from Lestrade. "Go to the foot bridge in Hyde Park by yourself at 9pm and drop this note, 30 pounds, and a picture of the boy into the musician there's collection bin. The homeless network should be able to find him. If they do they will drop the information at the doorstep to 221B, Mrs. Hudson if you could inform the detective if any such information arrives." Sherlock explained ripping the corner he had written on off of the manila folder when he was done.
"I am sorry that I haven't stayed long at all but you understand that with a situation like this we need to start searching as soon as possible Sherlock." Lestrade stated carefully placing the note in the pocket of his jacket. "Mrs. Hudson would you be alright with catching a cab home from the hospital?" Lestrade asked clearly wanting to get started on the new lead as soon as possible.
"Yes that's quite alright dearie you find that poor boy as soon as possible." Mrs Hudson said giving Lestrade a shooing motion out the door. Once Lestrade had left she took his place on the couch next to Sherlock. They sat together in companionable silence for a while.
"He'll be fine you know Sherlock," Mrs Hudson whispered into the silence in a comforting voice. "I've known you a long time dear and I can tell this is really upsetting you but John was a Soldier I'm sure he has dealt with far worst injuries than this." She continued, pre-emptively responding to Sherlock's sarcastic response before he could voice it. Sherlock deflated in response to her second statement realizing how much Mrs. Hudson had grown to be like a mother figure to him. He remembered when he had been at his worst addicted to cocaine and practically living on the streets. Mrs. Hudson had always granted him a warm meal and a hot drink with no judgment whenever he showed up at her door. Yes, he had helped her deal with her ex-husband but she had gone far above and beyond paying him back years ago. Perhaps she could help me make sense of these…emotions. Sherlock thought glancing over at his landlady who returned him a kind hearted smile.
"Mrs Hudson…" He began not quite sure how to continue. "Do you believe…do you think I am good for John?...His recovery that is. I mean this whole accident only occurred because he lives with me." Sherlock asked stumbling to find the right words and adding the last part with so much self-loathing.
"Sherlock! Don't you dare blame this on yourself? It was an accident that is all." Mrs. Hudson said with admonishment. Then in a much more gentle tone she added "…and of course you are good for John. You two are the best thing for each other." She said smiling at Sherlock fully understanding the subtext of his question. She was happy that the young genius finally seemed to be recognizing what everyone around him had seen for months. She just hoped that John would recover quickly and with no complications now so that the two could get on with their lives. A small smile tugged at the corner of Sherlock's mouth in response to her comment. The two continued to sit in silence for a few more minutes just watching the steady breathing of John Watson.
"Oh I have a surprise for you Sherlock. I wanted it to be a proper surprise so I left it at the nurse's desk before we came to the room. I'll just run and grab it." Mrs. Hudson said breaking the quite as she moved for the door. Sherlock fidgeted as he waited wishing he had looked more closely at Mrs. Hudson when she came in so that he would know what his surprise was. Fortunately for his sanity she returned in a few minutes. Sherlock's heart leapt with joy when he saw her carry his violin case into the room.
"Mrs. Hudson I could kiss you!" Sherlock exclaimed. He hadn't realized how much he needed his violin until she placed the item in his lap. Through out his life Sherlock had always used his music as an escape when situations became too much for him to process and this was definitely one of those situations.
"I think as long as you aren't too loud and play soothing songs the hospital staff wont mind too much. You know they always say that music and talking can help in these situations." She said smiling as Sherlock already had the violin out of the case and was attaching the chin rest.
"Well I'll let you play your music then," She stated realizing that he would be difficult to talk to in a moment. "You take care of him Sherlock and don't forget to take care of yourself," She said gesturing to the food she had brought him. "You just call me if you two need anything," she added as she walked out the door.
Sherlock smiled to himself again remembering her kind words and hoping that maybe, just maybe they would be true. He tightened his bowstring and began to play Tchaikovsky's 'Serenade Melancolique' he closed his eyes and allowed his entire body to move with the music.
He was so engrossed in the music he did not notice when John slowly opened his eyes.
John's eyes slowly tracked around the room until they locked onto the form of the violinist swaying slowly with the music at the foot of his bed. He didn't say anything for fear that the music would stop. He simply watched entranced with a dopy grin on his face for several minutes until his eyelids began to grow heavy. I wonder why he is here? John thought as his mind slowly faded back into sleep.
AN: Ok so again sorry for the lack of updates in a while my job is kinda crazy. I hope everyone enjoyed these two chapters and as always any constructive criticism is greatly appreciated. Thanks for all the follows you guys keep me motivated. ^_^