Chapter Seven
It wasn't until the next morning that John woke again. It was just as the nurse, Sarah, and Doctor Horton came to check on him that John blearily blinked his eyes open.
"Morning, John. How are you?" Sarah was bright and cheerful, as always.
John weakly lifted a hand to rub at his tired eyes, and frowned when he saw an IV line attached to it. He looked up at the doctor questioningly, and he stepped forward to answer.
"Hello, John. Mr Holmes explained to me that you woke briefly yesterday evening, and that he told you very briefly what had happened. Do you remember?"
John thought for a few moments and then shook his head slowly. "I had another seizure?"
Doctor Horton gave a sympathetic smile. "You had two seizures, John. The first was normal, but the second one caused you to stop breathing. You were intubated for several hours, but we've now removed the tubes. We have also started you on a common anti-convulsant drug to see if it will stop you having any more seizures, at least for a while."
John nodded, and then after a few seconds of silence, he looked around the room more closely. Finding it empty apart from a spare, unmade bed, he frowned. "Where's Sherlock? Wasn't Mycroft here too? And this other guy, called…something or other." He clenched the sheet in his fist at his frustration about not remembering clearly what had happened over the past few days.
"I asked your friend to step out for a moment. He looked like he needed something to eat anyway. He'll be back soon. Is that alright?"
John nodded slowly.
"Listen, John. Anti-convulsant drugs have different effects on different people. This drug may work, or it may not. It may help a little, by reducing the frequency of your seizures, or it may stop them altogether. Unfortunately, all of these drugs come with a lot of side-effects. So, I want you to tell me honestly; how do you feel?"
It took John a while to process all of the information that he'd been told. He sat, twiddling the sheet loosely between his fingers while he thought about what Doctor Horton had said.
"I'm a Doctor. Can I ask what you're giving me?"
"Certainly." The doctor smiled. John's curiosity was a good sign; although he hadn't shared it with Sherlock, he had been worried that John's brain might have been further damaged by oxygen deprivation when he'd stopped breathing. This had been the real reason why he'd asked Sherlock and the other two men to step out of the room. Thankfully, though, John appeared to have been unaffected by his most recent seizure, beyond the usual, that was. "We've started you off on a drug called Carbamazepine. It tends to work well with patients who have PTE, that is, Post Traumatic Epilepsy. However, it is only fully effective in around 35% of patients."
Sarah finished checking John's vitals and left with a small nod, the door closing softly behind her. In the few seconds that the door was open, John was certain he could hear Sherlock's voice drifting in from the corridor, although he couldn't make out any of the words.
"John, how are you feeling?" Doctor Horton pressed his question again, seeing that John wasn't going to answer it without prompting.
John ran a gentle hand through his hair and sighed, he knew it would be easier to just get this over with, and then he could sleep, or rather, he could talk to Sherlock and then sleep. "Um, kind of tired, to be honest. And my muscles ache, but I presume that's due to the seizures I had. I feel a little bit sick, but not too much. Is that normal; it's not really my area of expertise."
Doctor Horton gave a small smile. "Tiredness and nausea are both common side effects of carbamazepine, I'm afraid. You'll probably also have some balance problems to start off with, but they should improve with time. If any of that changes, you need to let us know. Immediately. I think it's unlikely that this drug will stop your seizures entirely, but if it can cut the number dramatically, it would be a brilliant improvement. I know you're tired, but you should try to walk around a little bit today, at least just get out of bed and walk along the corridor, with help, of course."
John huffed and looked away. He didn't like the sound of having to get up and walk about, especially if it would require help, which would be humiliating.
"I'll come by later and see how you've done." Doctor Horton paused and waited for John to look back up at him again. "You need to try, John. The longer you leave it, the harder it'll get. You're a doctor; you know that. Just bear it in mind." With that, he left.
A few moments later, Sherlock entered, followed closely by Will, who shut the door behind them both, checking both ways down the corridor before he did so.
Sherlock walked quickly towards the bed and took a seat in a chair on John's right side. "Hi, John."
"Hi." John looked past Sherlock to Will, who had come up behind him, but hadn't followed Sherlock's lead by taking a seat. "Sorry, I've forgotten who you are."
Will gave a small smile and came closer. "We met yesterday. I'm Will Meyer."
John nodded and smiled in return. To Sherlock's surprise, he didn't ask the seemingly obvious questions of who Will actually was, and why he was there.
"Have you eaten, Sherlock?" John asked.
"I had coffee just now. I ate yesterday." Sherlock braced himself for beration from John for not looking after himself, but it never came.
There were several minutes of silence, where everyone was deep in thought. Then, just as the silence stretched from companionable into awkward, Sherlock broke it.
"John, the doctor said you were meant to start walking today."
John groaned but slowly nodded. He knew it was an obstacle he'd have to overcome sooner or later, so he thought he might as well get it over with. Sherlock reached out and used the controls on the side of the bed to slowly raise John into a sitting position. Carefully, John sat up fully and twisted his body so his legs were hanging off the side of the bed, with his feet just centimetres from the floor.
John tried to push himself up with his arms, but they were shaking badly, and he didn't have enough strength. Bowing his head in shame, he reached out and grasped Sherlock by the arms, and allowed himself to be pulled gently to his feet.
Sherlock kept his hold on John once he was standing, and waited until John looked up at him.
"Is this okay?" He kept his voice low; Will had taken a few steps backwards to give the illusion of privacy, but still remained close enough to be able to rush forwards if John fell.
John nodded slowly and took several deep breaths to ground himself. He didn't want to admit it, but he was certain he would have fallen, had Sherlock not been holding him up.
"Are you ready to take a step?"
John nodded again, before cautiously lifting his right foot off the ground, pushing it forwards, and placing it down again a little way in front of the rest of his body. The simple action caused his mind to spiral, and he tilted towards Sherlock, leaning almost all of his weight onto him. He noticed that Sherlock smelt of cheap coffee, so at least he hadn't been lying about drinking it, like he sometimes did.
Will stepped forward to assist Sherlock in holding John up, but he shook his head gently, so Will stepped back again, although he didn't move quite as far away as he had been before. Gently, Sherlock steadied John.
"Are you okay, John?"
"I'm fine." As he said it, John was forced to squeeze his eyes closed as a wave of nausea hit him.
"You don't look fine. We can stop, if you're not ready."
John would have preferred Sherlock to just tell him to ignore his transport and get on with it; it would have been more normal than what Sherlock was actually saying.
"I said I'm fine." To prove this, John took another step forward, but he wobbled dangerously, and Sherlock's grip on him tightened.
"John, you've done well. Why don't we try again later?"
John growled in annoyance. "Stop pretending you care. I know you don't. Just leave me alone, Sherlock." After his outburst, John took another two steps forwards, pulling himself out of Sherlock's grasp.
He managed to stay upright for a second, before another wave of nausea hit him. John felt himself start to fall, but he couldn't even put his hands out to lessen the damage. He braced himself for the feeling of bone crashing against hard floor, but just before he impacted, strong arms wrapped around him, and he was gently lowered the rest of the way to the ground. John squeezed his eyes shut, and then rolled to the side before vomiting onto the floor. Once he was finished, he groaned and rolled onto his back, only to find his head and upper body were being held in someone's lap. At first he thought it was Sherlock, but the man smelt wrong, so John dazedly realised it must have been Will.
"Easy, John. You're okay." Will rubbed John's back gently, reassuring him. Checking over his shoulder, he saw that Sherlock was still frozen in place. He'd been unable to react as John had wrenched himself free with surprising strength, overbalanced and then collapsed towards the floor. Will was thankful he'd stayed close by, as he'd only just caught John in time.
"John? Are you gonna be sick again?"
"I'm fine. Leave me alone. I don't even know you." John's words slurred a little, but they were still easily understandable.
"You're not fine, you just collapsed and vomited. I'm Will, and I helped Sherlock bring down Moriarty's web. We trust one another. I'm here to protect you both, John, and Sherlock's here to protect you too."
"I don't care who you are. You can piss off…and take Sherlock with you."
"I'm not leaving you on the floor, John." The stench of vomit was starting to permeate the whole room, and Will was conscious that it needed to be cleaned up as soon as possible. Quickly, he devised a plan of action.
Will looked back over his shoulder again. "Sherlock, go and get something to clean up the mess."
Sherlock slowly blinked back into the real world. He frowned. "Where?"
"Try the nurses' station. Go on." Will smiled as Sherlock obeyed, walking carefully around the pile of vomit before leaving the room.
"John, I'm going to pick you up. It might help if you keep your eyes closed."
John tensed in Will's lap. "I'd like to see you try; you're almost as skinny as him."
Will smirked at that, before carefully threading one arm across the back of John's shoulders, and the other under his knees. With a grunt, he lifted himself and John off the floor. John's eyes flew open in surprise at the movement, and he tried to wriggle free, but Will held him tightly in place, and gently lowered John back onto the bed, conscious of the IV line in John's arm.
As soon as John was released, he rolled over to face away from Will, who was lowering the bed back to a horizontal level. Gently, he tucked the blankets up around John, and patted him lightly on the shoulder. Then, he walked towards the door of the room to see where Sherlock had got to, as he'd taken rather longer to find a mop than Will had expected…
I'm so sorry for the long gap since the last update. Thanks for all the reviews in the interim, they really helped me to write. I hope the slightly longer chapter made up for it; please tell me what you thought of it :)