Hey guys! Sorry for the bit of absence. I've just been busy with work :/ But I promise I'm still working on this! It won't be much longer, maybe another chapter or two but for now, here we go with chapter four!
-Reasons
4. Sherlock can't put words to this one and that almost worries him. He's always been well enough at describing situations and putting things in layman's terms for everyone else. But he feels this one well enough regardless of the simplicity of words.
Since the beginning, when John shot the cabbie, it has been an obvious thought that he will never let any harm come to Sherlock. And the detective feels this same sort of protectiveness towards his blogger, even if it isn't as obvious. John had wondered, prior to The Fall, if Sherlock really worried about his general well being. But when he returned and John learned the true story (true enough anyway) there was never a question left.
And now they sit in a hospital staring at one another, one in a bed and another in a chair pulled relatively close, wondering.
"This is all your fault." Sherlock states simply. John merely scoffs.
"I don't see how, you're the one that did what you did. I would have been fine. But you had to overreact like a drama queen. Again, I might add." The detective rolls his eyes and doesn't see fit to respond. In reality it's only partially John's fault he's ended up in this damned hospital but he doesn't see a real need to point this out. The case had started out simply enough. A serial kidnapper, leaving naught but the victim's cell phones at the place of their abductions. They had been heading into day three when they caught the bastard red-handed ordering a woman into his car.
"Really though, it is your fault. Lestrade had set up a barricade not a fifty meters down the road, there was no way he could have escaped." John shakes his head.
"Well if a certain someone had told me that, I probably wouldn't have done what I did now would I?" John (not knowing there was a police barricade just down the road) had jumped in front of the kidnappers car in a rash attempt to stop the man. Sherlock knew (as he always did) just what kind of man they were dealing with and that a simple meddling human in the road would do little to stop him. And because John had made that foolish choice to jump into the road...
"You know..." John's voice is soft now. "If you hadn't pushed me out of the way our roles would be reversed right now."
"I am aware of that." Sherlock's voice is flat, missing (or more likely ignoring) the emotion in John's.
"Sherlock I'm serious. You pushed me out of the way and because of that he hit you instead of me. Why would you... I mean what even possessed you to..." John's voice has risen in tone. His frustration and guilt towards himself pouring out in misguided anger towards the detective in the hospital bed. Said detective is silent for a moment before he realizes what John actually needs to hear.
"John. It is not your fault." This only earns him a glare from the doctor.
"Don't feed me that crap line Sherlock. You've been saying it since they put you in the ambulance. 'It's your fault John.' " The doctor uses air quotes to try to push his point across although to the curly haired man, it's already quite clear. "And damned if I don't know it is!" John rakes his hands through his hair. "I was stupid. If I had stopped to think for one god-forsaken second it probably would have occurred to me that you had already said something to Greg. But no. I had to stick my goddamned neck out. Fuck!" He's pacing at this point, not even realizing he's left his chair.
"John you shouldn't yell at an injured man." The look of absolute shock this statement receives almost makes the pain from laughing worth it. Broken ribs (on top of his other injuries) were such a pain. (No pun intended.) There is anger in the doctor's face now and Sherlock figures he should probably make it right before the other man's blood pressure got too high.
"Listen to me. It was quite noble what you did. And you did help to save that girl's life. Any injuries on my part are nothing next to the fact that she lives because of us. And I suppose..." Sherlock schools his features into something that just barely resembles shame. "It was bad on my part to not inform you of the barricade." It is quiet for a second. And then a minute. John's sudden laughter nearly startles the other man.
"Oh I bet it hurt to say that lie." He's still laughing and Sherlock can see he has forgiven himself for the most part. "You don't have to lie to me to make me feel better idiot. Although I suppose watching you say that was healing within itself." He is smirking at the bed-ridden detective who has in turn scowled at him
"This is what I get for trying to be a friend." John just rolls his eyes. At this moment a nurse comes in and proceeds to administer the next round of medication regardless of Sherlock's loud (and quite rude) protests.
"You can go home soon." She says to John quietly. "He'll be asleep in ten minutes." John nods and observes the detective for the next few minutes, watching with amusement as the man tries to fight off sleep.
"Dammit John... plotting against me. You and that... damned nurse. " In a few more minutes he is asleep, head lolled to one side and lips slightly parted. John stands and draws on his jacket, ready for the drive home. Sherlock's injuries were nothing terribly serious and he was going to be released sometime tomorrow.
Just as he was about to walk out the door, he paused, realizing that this would be the first time in nearly three months that he would sleep alone in bed. Since Sherlock merged their bedrooms he had made a point to actually sleep (for at least an hour or two) a night with the doctor at his side. John turns back and walks over to the sleeping detective. He stands there for a second feeling admittedly foolish before leaning down and pressing a soft kiss to the other man's forehead.
"Goodnight Sherlock." As he begins to walk away he hears a whisper.
"If you don't think I'll remember that when I'm fully awake than you're sorely mistaken." The doctor merely grins and makes his way out of the hospital room.
-Later
Sherlock lies in bed thinking about the only thing his drug addled mind will allow. John. The man he saved from being his by a car. The man who just kissed him goodnight (as ridiculous as that sounds he can admit it was an oddly endearing thing) and the man he had shared a room and bed with the last three months. John's physical presence is a very comforting thing. One of the few things on this earth that can ease the detective's over-active mind. And despite the added effect of the hospital drugs, Sherlock finds he has a very tough time falling asleep.
And when he wakes sometime in the early morning and finds John asleep in the chair next to his bed, head resting on the edge of Sherlock's mattress, he is overcome with a strange urge to repay the other man. Carefully he leans forward in his bed and presses his lips to John's temple and whispers a small "Goodnight." He lays back in the bed feeling utterly idiotic when he hears John.
"If you don't think I'll remember that when I'm fully awake than you're an idiot." Sherlock laughs.
"That's not a direct quote." John moves a bit closer and lightly takes Sherlock's hand.
"I don't care. Leave me be I'm trying to sleep." The detective tolerates the hand within his own and finds himself falling back asleep as well.
Not many things in the life puzzle Sherlock Holmes. But his love for John Watson is definitely one of them.
_Tadah!
I know Sherlock is a (more than a) little out of character in this one but bare with me. Since our favorite detective isn't exactly romantically inclined I had to change him up a little for this to work. Anyway I'll update sooner this time I promise. And as always, please review!
With much love, Kassie