Chapter 18: Medic, medic!
"I'm very brave, generally," he went on in a low voice: "only today I happen to have a headache."
-Lewis Carroll, Through the Looking Glass.
The next day, John was in the kitchen, cleaning sauce splatters off the counter from last night's dinner. His mind was not on the work, focused instead on the night before, when Sammy had asked to call him 'daddy'. It said a lot, not just about her trust, but also about her attachment to him. John hesitated to call it love; he had never felt comfortable with the word, not really. He used it enough, but in a superficial way. He loved tea, and he loved strawberry jam. It wasn't the same way you loved a parent or a child. And that sort of love, real love, that required trust and commitment and possible pain, was the sort that he couldn't wrap his head around.
It wasn't lack of experience with it. He had loved and been loved by many people. And yet it still struck him hard each time, coming as a complete surprise. It meant more than most people realized, much more. It wasn't just a mutual caring, it was a sharing of pain. After his mother had broken her ankle, John had helped her around the house, wincing at her pain as though he felt it himself. And when Sherlock had died, a part of him had followed into the darkness, becoming numb. Love was a fish hook in your side, that pulled you where it wanted.
It was a danger and it was a thrill, and John was pretty much certain that he loved Sammy. Damn. That wasn't a good thing. She may be an innocent girl, but she was still in the employ and under the influence of Moriarty. If he was holding her strings, and she was holding John's strings, then by extension, Jim could lead John wherever he wanted. John sighed, and slid the cloth over the counter again, watching the red sauce spots disappear under the fabric.
There was someone knocking at the door frantically. John spun and ran over to it, knowing that sort of knock was bad news. He opened the door and looked out to see Leo waiting for him there, face creased with worry.
"What's happened?" John asked without preamble.
"You've got to come with me," Leo said simply, then turned and ran back the way he'd come.
"Be right back," John shouted over his shoulder to Sammy, and then ran downstairs after the dark-haired boy. By the time he reached the bottom, Leo was waiting, one hand on the shoulder of another boy who was even younger than him. John had never seen the blonde-haired blue-eyed boy before, but recognized that he was in pain by his expression. "What's wrong?" he asked quickly.
"He's done something to his ankle," Leo answered, "the idiot," he added under his breath, but it seemed to be good-natured, so John let it go. He approached the other boy slowly, seeing the way that he was balancing his weight on one leg.
"So what's your name?" he asked the boy, kneeling to take a look at the injured ankle.
"James," he answered. "But everyone calls me Jim, so I guess that's m' name too. I like Jim an' James equally, I think, but 't really depends on who's saying it…" The rambling was an obvious attempt to keep his own attention off his ankle, which John admired.
"And how did this happen?" he asked, probing gently. Even his light fingers produced a sharp inhale from the boy. Sprained, most likely. The ligaments could be torn, although it all depended….
"He jumped off a roof," Leo volunteered in an unimpressed tone.
"I see," John said, pushing away the memories that brought up. "And why would you do a thing like that?" Meanwhile, he guided little-Jim down into a sitting position so that he could access the ankle.
"'nother group of kids stole Socks' toy," the small boy answered. "I was gonna get it back for him."
"Yeah, well that didn't work, did it? I told you to wait, but did you listen?" Leo said from behind John's back in a sarcastic tone.
"Shut it, Leonard," the little boy said viciously.
"Hey, hey. None of that, now," John said sternly, hoping that they would both shut up. No such luck.
"I'm just saying, it's your own damn fault," came Leo's voice, the swear word sounding strange in such a young mouth. The streets caused kids to grow up too fast, and the Misfits were no exception. "Did you even get the toy?"
"Yeah!" The blonde boy said proudly, holding out a hand to reveal a rather disturbing plush toy. It was a home-sewn teddy bear with black button eyes and white fangs. "The tall one took Chaya, but I got him back, see?"
"That was very brave of you," John said, before Leo had the chance to reply. "Why did the other kids take the toy?"
"Socks told one of them that he was stupid." John laughed at that.
"Listen, I've got to go get something to wrap your ankle. No fighting while I'm gone, okay?" He turned to shoot a look at Leo, who shifted. "I mean it. I will throw you out of the dinners."
"Okay," Leo muttered, and John ran back up the stairs to fetch his home medical kit. He gave Sammy a quick one-sentence summary of the situation, then hurried back downstairs. Leo was crouched in front of James, holding a quiet conversation with him. Little-Jim was shaking his head frantically, eyes wide.
"What's going on now?" John asked as he approached.
"I was just offering to give the toy to Socks, but Jim says-"
"I got it back, I wanna give it to him!" Little-Jim said in a distressed voice.
"He's going to kill me when he finds out that you hurt your ankle while I was with you. The least I can do is give him the stupid toy!"
"Hey guys, let's worry about this after. Right now, I need to wrap your ankle. And Leo, could you hold his leg straight while I do it?" He showed Leo where to put his hands, and the dark-haired boy pressed, making the smaller boy wince. "Ease up a little bit." With a displeased mutter, Leo did so. "Okay, this is going to hurt a bit. Ready?" John took off the boy's shoe as gently as he could, but he couldn't stop the pain entirely.
Then he took out the bandage and swiftly wrapped it around and around the ankle, pulling it tight. Jim made a little whimper, and then was silent. Leo watched John's actions with wide eyes, tracking every movement. And then John tied a knot and stepped back. It limited the boy's mobility, obviously, but it was all he could do.
"Right, well, you'll have to stay off that for at least a week." The boy made a face. "I know, sorry. But definitely no missions until then, okay? I'll tell M, and make sure you're sitting out. Leo, could you bring him to the meetings over the next few nights? That way, I can monitor the swelling. I'll give you an elevator card so that you don't have to use the stairs."
"Okay," Leo said. "I can watch him and make sure he stays put."
"Thanks. And tell… Socks, to come collect his toy." Most of the Misfits had standard, forgettable names. This one stood out like a crow among doves. "And stay close to here. There's a safe house down the street, right?"
"Yeah," Leo said. "I'll text Socks and tell him to meet us there." He pulled his iPhone from his pocket. Just another strange thing to get used to, seven year olds carrying iPhones.
"You do that. And I'll see you tonight, okay?"
"Can we have another Hermes story?" Leo asked absently as he tapped out a message on his phone.
"Well, tonight it's going to be Raven, but sure, I can tell a Hermes story tomorrow." He was working his way back and forth through mythological trickster figures, which was both informative and fun.
"S'fine," Leo replied, then tucked his phone away. "Come on, we'll go to the Reaper house," he said to Jim.
"Don't like that place, it stinks."
"It's closest. Don't complain." Jim put his arm around Leo's shoulders so that he could walk, and the two of them made their clumsy way out. John watched them go, then shook his head and headed back up the stairs.
A/N: Sorry about this boring chapter. I needed to introduce both the idea of John treating Misfits, and this little trio of characters. But hey, look on the bright side! A long time ago, I promised that I wouldn't post boring chapters alone. So continue on, because there's another chapter waiting for you! Enjoy!