Disclaimer: Praise the lord that I don't own Sherlock. Because seriously, only god knows what I'd do with the characters... hehe hehe

Okay, here we go, it's smexy chapter time. OLÉ! But no, nothing smexy in here. I write a fanfic about children after all. Would be weird...

*shudders* Now then, I finally managed to get my ass up, I'm so proud of myself. I have one excuse, but only for the 5 days that I had to spend offline. OFFLINEEEEEEEEE

Nevertheless, I do now find myself in the risky situation of saying I'll be updating more frequently the next days, but don't trust me. I'm actually Mary. (*gonna attempt to kill ya boyfriend, husband* be prepared)

Special thanks go to the loveley people of tumblr who helped silly ol' me to find the word IV. Honestly, I'm so dumb-uaaaah- and to everyone reading and reviewing and favouriting. I love y'all so much. (And I stalk you, just so you know. I read all your profiles. I know your life, each little detail. *stalkery-stalk-stalk*) But no, I just love you. Thanks for the support!

"Ouch, ow- that hurt." I flinch as my back gives a loud crack. "Is it, supposed to sound like that?"

"No, sorry." John sighs. "Sorry, that was not-"

"It's- okay, really." I smile at him painfully. "It's not much..."

John frowns, but doesn't say much more as he lies down the remote. He gives me a sympathetic glance, one of these things you're ought to feel reassured from, but it only makes you less comfortable. I should know, I get these all the times. Preferably with the doctors they seem to be in trend. "Are you sure you're-"

"Haha, gotcha!" I yell cheerfully as John's hips pop up, my eyes twinkling. Older people are so easy to trick. They always think they have the upper hand and that's exactly the way you should let them think, encourage them to think. In tiny little boxes. After all it's not called child's play for nothing. Children are like spiders at the centre of a web.

Now, that's weird. Where did that thought come from? I should keep it for later. Sounds clever.

"Toot-toot!" The influenca whoops, stretching her head through the door with a fading smile on her face. "Am I just silly or have I just heard-"

Whatever is in her hand crashes to the floor. Which is nothing. But her face still definitely looks like it, absolute terror. I guess we've done something wrong. Though I don't think I care. This was fun.

"Please do tell me how you want to explain this, boys?" She says, the sickeningly sweet smile ever so present. I'm going to go bonkers in this hospital once. Very soon.

"Not-" John says, signalling for me to get out as quickly as bloody possible. Stress on the bloody, I think we both want to escape her as quickly as we can. But heh, well, there's one problem. We can't flee. I can't walk.

But he can, hopefully.

"Shush!" I whispers, shooing him away. The best of me tries to be as selfless and martyr-ish as it can, to not feel the self-pity weighing down on me. But that's harder than I thought it would be. I don't wanna stay here with that beast of a woman. Not today.

But John, being the moron that he is, doesn't get it. Oh, the stupidity. I wish I could be home. Everybody understands me there. At least we, the Holmes family, we're clever.

Oh, gosh, John. This would still be stupid even if the age difference were in his favour. Not mine.

"What-.?" So stupid. Agh. I sigh.

"Go." I whisper, still signalling wildly, but it still doesn't seem enough. The epidemic has gotten to the door, closing it swiftly. With one of these self-confident grins on her face. I really wish I were somewhere else.

"Boys, you do know that you could have hurt each other very seriously, do you boys?"

"Yes, ma'am." We both sing in a rather reluctant choir.

"Especially Sherlock- swear to never do that again. Pinky promise?"

I shake my head, this is like so uncool. I do not do pinky promise, never have, never will. So I just nod my head and stretch up my fingers a bit wretchedly, hopefully an indicator of my weakness. She just nods back, trying to look grim, but you know. Doesn't work, as usual.

"Okay, boys, off you pop. You've been in here for ages; you should get out a little, catch some fresh air. Shoo!"

"But wasn't- isn't it night?" I ask, quizzically.

She keeps silent for a moment, but not longer than that. "No, I'm afraid that must be the pills talking."

"Hm." John huffs. "Didn't know pills could talk."

I try to dismiss that thought instantly. I don't want to imagine stuffing the upset tablets down my mouth while they can scream at me not to, with big red pained eyes. It's already hell on earth. And it's not as if they don't do that anyway, every time. In my mind.

"Aren't we supposed to get more sleep?" I ask, feeling a bit dizzy. "We just had-"

"No." She states. "Please go."

"Okay." John sighs, giving her a weirded out glare. "Let's go then."

John walks to the door, reopening that traitor with a bit of trouble. His hands are twitching too. Noticing that he forgot to help me, he turns around abruptly from the door, shaking his head. "What do I do?"

"You better get him into that wheel chair." She points. "Over there. Then you're free to go."

John nods curtly, before taking the wheelchair into closer examination. It rattles. This doesn't sound too good.

"Wait, I'll help you." She smiles. "One second- there we go."

The wheelchair now stands in front of me, fully set up. I have to admit, it looks rather good with all the stickers on the sides and the sparkling wheels. But I better not let John know this; he'll only think I'm a girl.

They get me on that amazing thing and then we really are free to go. Well, that's what I thought a few seconds ago. It seems that John is, like me, unable to stir this little jetpack into the right direction. My reason is that my arms fail after a while. And John? I guess he's just stupid. But at least the seat's comfy.

"Okay, hmmm..." Her eyes gleam as she thinks. "I'll just get you two to the common room, what do you say?"

I shrug, John nods. So it shall be then. I don't really care. John will have to walk right behind us though, controlling both our IVs. Let's hope things don't get too tangled.

We cross a few open doors and rooms silently while slowly finding our way through the hallway, having just come out of the elevator. I feel silly. But when I take a peek into one of the open rooms, I don't feel much better. I see a lot of old people, mainly old people really. Not much else.

Nothing at all more than grey, all in all, alone. I wouldn't say anyone has visited them in months; they certainly don't look like it. But you can't see a lot of their faces anyway; they're blocked by big ugly tubes and medical stuff. I don't know exactly what they are, but surely something medical. It's always only medical. The only one else in there is the nurse. You see, only medical.

Nothing is the thing they do most of the time. Staring at the wall. Waiting. Probably. They don't smile. They don't even talk. I do admit, I hate talking sometimes, but falling into this state of utter meaninglessness must be hurtful. Somehow, I have to think about grandmother. I'm happy she's still happy. I can only hope she has loads of fun left until she turns into something like me.

But hey, I have some reconciliation. Although it rather makes me feel uncomfortable than reconciled with my existence; I won't die old, I'll die young. Now that came out wrong. Or maybe just perfectly right. I don't know. What is my life...

We finally reach the room as I take a look at John. Completely untouched by this. I wish I could be; he must be very strong. Emotions are unnecessary after all.