Chapter 3

John sits in the little cubical in the A&E waiting for the attending doctor to come back with his X-rays. He knows he's broken at least three, if not all the metatarsals in his left foot which will not be a pretty situation for John.

Suppressing his irritation at the situation John pulls out his mobile, logs onto the NHS WIFI and sends his sister a quick MSG.

JW: Have a situation and may need your help next week, I broke my foot. Will you come?

For long minutes he stares at the screen, willing Harry to respond, willing her to be sober this time; till the attending comes back jarring him out of it. "Well Dr. Watson, it would appear you broke all five of the little buggers. How did you say you did it again?"

Internally John laughs, externally he remains calm so as to not set off any of this doctor's training for spotting spousal abuse, self harmers, etc. "Please just ask the DI that came in with me, it was an accident that occurred whilst I helped apprehend a criminal."

In his pocket the mobile starts vibrating, however one is not just allowed to log on to the NHS WIFI willy-nilly so John ignores it and listens, with, well, faked rapt attention to the attending's instructions regarding the cast he is going to put John's on foot. Which said attending good-naturedly calls him on, "I know you've heard, or said, this 'supper' speech millions of times, but there is often a little thing that comes up that you've forgotten which can change the whole thing around."

His neck and cheeks flushing bright red, John nods, mumbling an apology, "Sorry, I was a military trauma surgeon so I tend to check out if there's no one coding." The attending (Myers) laughs a bit, "Yeah I get it, but to recap, no helping out the MET for six to eight weeks and keep it elevated as much as possible."

Before John can express the sarcastic retort that is forming in his mind there is a scrapping rattle as the curtain around John's bed is pulled swiftly open. John looks up to catch the irritated expression on his friend's face in the tight lips and drawn down brows. "Did you even listen to the man, he was a trauma surgeon and certainly knows the proper procedure for a broken foot!"

John's quietly reproachful, "Sherlock, really?" sounds at the same time as the attending's equally irritated, "Yes, well, even doctors need reminding to take their medicine now and again Mr... who are you now?" as he comes to a defensive position between the strange tall man and his patient. John gives Sherlock a long practiced look of 'give us a minute you great prat' accompanied with a terse head toss indicating the door his flatmate just came in through.

Once 'his nibs' has turned away, rolling his eyes John clears his throat and addresses his doctor. "I'm sorry about him, he thinks the universe revolves around him."

The attending looks at John, sitting in his peripheral vision, assessingly as he checks that he has everything he needs on his trolly to put a cast on John's foot. "Yes well, if he isn't family he doesn't belong back here." John doesn't respond and ten minutes later he is signing papers stating his release into his own care with a foot in a fresh cast. The attending gives John a brief smile, "I'll send an orderly back with a chair for you in a moment."

Incapable of not getting one last jab in John shakes his head slightly, "Actually if you could send my 'partner' back with the chair, that would be better use of staffer's time, as well as keeping him out of trouble." John suppresses laughter at the uncomfortable double take the doctor gives him, as he stammers over apologising, "Yes, right the tall bloke in the... big jacket... right, sorry".

Straight faced John just nods and watches the man almost run to get Sherlock, but as soon as the door to the semi-private room closes he stops holding back the giggles. He knows he's in effect shot himself through the foot, in that now there is someone else who presumes he and Sherlock are basically married, and it's his fault for misleading the poor man. And yet somehow John can't help thinking he deserved to get so flustered given how rude he was to Sherlock.

His mobile buzzing in his pocket distracts him from his mirth and John quickly pulls the device out to check who called. Moments later he is listening to his sister's voice, "Hey Johnny, so sorry, but I'm not in London right now, work sent me up to Edi1 and I'll not be back till end of the week after next. Get that oaf Sherlock to help you with whatever it is and I'll be round to see you as soon as possible. If it's something you can't wait for..." here the boisterous voice falters, "call Clara, any road, she knows all our secrets after being saddled with us for ten years. If you do, tell her I miss her, yeah?"

"Well fuck." John drops his mobile into his lap and covers his face with his hands, barely, just barely he holds back the hysterical tears that threaten to fall.

Flashback: 1981

John is sitting at his desk in his room when his sister barges in, "Hey Johnny, what are you up to?" He cuts a glare over his shoulder at her, "Don't bloody well call me that, my name is John."

He's sitting there all stiff limbed and trying to look tough, it's all Harry can do NOT to laugh directly in his face. "God Johnny, you have a hell of an attitude for a year five kid, yeah! Keep that kind of language up and Mum'll box your ears for sure." She's about to start teasing her younger brother randomly, as she always does, but something tips her off. There's a manner about him in the way he's holding himself, that makes her wonder if she walked in on him crying.

Now Harry knows herself well, and she knows that her being resentful of the amount of time her parents have spent with Johnny, going to doctors and the such, is well known to him. But at the heart of it she does love her little brother and doesn't wish him any specific harm. So instead of choosing to make fun of his hair (because it has chosen today to go mad, standing straight on end - up one side only) she continues her path into the room and collapses on the edge of his bed.

"Alright John..ny, what is going on."

John, who had jumped practically out of his skin when she sat down, hunches in on himself, turning half away, "Nothing."

Harry sighs and falls back to lie on the bed, waving her arms in the air lazily above her, "God Johnny, your driving me up the wall. I can tell your upset about something, out with it. Is it someone at your school? Someone bugging my little brother?" Her flailing arms move more menacingly, mock throttling someone in their grip, "I'll show them what for Johnny, you just tell me who."

A quiet whisper has her hands falling to her stomach, "It's Jimmy. I think he knows."

The effect on Harry is swift, she sits bolt upright and shuffles along the edge of the bed to be closer to her brother. "Are you sure? What has he said?"

John shrugs a shoulder slightly, "He's always called me some rendition of 'girl' trying to make me mad. But it's gotten worse lately, I've started to pack on weight a bit and he's constantly saying things like 'oh johnny, your curves finally coming in?' It's really starting to get to me Harry." Trying to comfort himself John wraps his arms around his traitorous abdomen and hangs his head as silent tears carve tracks down his rounded cheeks and fall to wet his hands. His entire body jumps, just slightly, as his sister's arms wrap around him holding tight. Her normally harsh, fully projected, voice sounds lightly in his ear.

"Well little brother, I think you need to butch it the fuck up. And luckily with me as your lesbian older sister, I can teach you my ways, young padiwan."

John, feeling immensely touched, is brought, so suddenly to laughter, through the tears, that he chokes a tiny bit and has to sputter out a few coughs, "Thanks Harry, then I'll be acting like a girl acting like a guy!" and the two of them start giggling.

Their mum is suddenly in the open door, "Never thought I'd hear giggles instead of arguing out of you two, what's the occasion?"

Harry answers before John can even draw breath, "Johnny, I mean John is being bullied by that awful Irish kid Jimmy, telling him he's a girl and what not." Harry steamrolls over John's hesitance (he hadn't wanted his mum to know), "I think he needs to do something really tough, like learn a martial art, or play rugby, something where he can prove himself as manly as the rest of them!"

John's mum is nodding, "Yeah, that might be a good idea Harriet. It at least bears some thinking about." She pauses there thinking a moment, "Maybe I should go see the Head Teacher and see if that Jimmy can be kept..."

John jumps up and runs over to his mother as fast as he can, "NO mum, please! If you talk to the teachers it'll get so much worse. I'll just do as Harry says and 'butch up' and join some sports teams."

Some months later John found the teasing was a bit better, mostly because the embarrassing chubbiness melted away with the regular rugby practices and his mum didn't end up calling the school that term. Even better Jimmy moved away at the end of term to be closer to his bother Sebastian's new school.

1 Edi is a common short form for Edinburgh