Unfortunately for both of them, Sherlock has a little too much confidence. He looks at those that they're facing, evaluates his and John's strengths and weaknesses, and makes the evaluation that they would be triumphant. And they aren't given that much warning because within a few moments the two blocking their way out of the alley charge in and attack. And of course when Sherlock doesn't run, John can do very little other than defend himself and his friend.
Knowledge and muscle memory only go so far when you don't have the size or muscles to back it up. Fists fly, bodies slam into walls and other sharp appendages such as elbows and knees, and within a short period of time, the two are joined by two others who of course rush to defend their friends. By the end of it, John and Sherlock are triumphant, but by no means unscathed.
Bruised and somewhat bloody, John leans back against the wall of the alley, catching his breath for a moment. "Come on, let's go before the bloody police come by and see this, that's the last thing we need." He says with a shake of his head.
Staunching the flow of blood from his nose with a handy dandy handkerchief, Sherlock looks at John and nods, deciding not to speak at the moment as he leads John through the alleyways until they come to an alley across from 221B, and soon enough they are in their home again. Shedding his sweatshirt and jacket, the detective makes a bee line for the bathroom where he starts to fill the sink with water.
Following his lead, John groans as he takes off his shoes and sweatshirt as well, "Bloody hell, Sherlock. Can't have a normal day. I feel like I've been run over by a lorry." he says with a sigh, collecting his first aid kit. "You're lucky they didn't have knives or guns." he says with a shake of his head, following the taller boy into the bathroom to open the first aid kit on the counter. "Shirt off, I think one of them got your shoulder with the bottle he grabbed from that trash can." He says as he sees the cut in Sherlock's shirt and the way it's soaked in blood, washing his hands and face in the running water before he puts on some gloves. Once Sherlock removes his shirt he starts to work on the cut on Sherlock's shoulder with antiseptic. "You should be bloody grateful that I am a doctor, Sherlock." He grumbles with a small shake of his head.
"I am grateful, John." Sherlock objects, hissing slightly for a moment as he's caught off-guard when John starts working on his cut, and he frowns as he shifts a little. "I did not anticipate anyone recognizing us, much less having the organization and planning to find us and stake out the places we most commonly visit. Clearly they wanted to injure us, likely cause more permanent damage, and they were far more organized than they once were. It seems that anger has united them." he says as he considers it, having sat down on the toilet lid in order to let the shorter John attend to his shoulder.
"You don't have to anticipate everything, Sherlock. But we have to be careful. As we were just reminded, our bodies don't move the way we remember our bodies moving. Our muscles aren't the same, we're smaller and weaker." He says as he continues to clean the cut, shaking his head. "This is deeper than I thought, you're going to need a few stitches." he says with a small sigh before he turns to his kit and gets out his sewing kit. "Next time maybe we should stick to major roads and not alley shortcuts. Harder for a bunch of goons to jump us if we're out in the open like that." he says as he spreads a bit of cream on the wound before he starts stitching, to numb and sterilize the area.
Sherlock just remains silent, listening to the reprimand and submitting himself to the care of his doctor. "Thank you, John." He says after a moment. "For staying by me and protecting me. I surely would have ended up worse were you not there." He acknowledges as he glances over his shoulder the doctor, and to peek at what the blonde is doing.
Pausing for a moment to look up, John meets Sherlock's mercurial eyes for a moment, staring at him before he smiles and finishes his work. "That's what friends are for, Sherlock. You're my best mate, of course I'm going to just leave you there, what kind of cad do you think I am?" He asks with another little smile, though he does feel rather good about what Sherlock just said. "There.. all done, just be careful." He says as he sterilizes his needle again and puts it away before putting a bandage over the cut and removing his gloves to wash his hands again.
Nodding slowly as he continues to watch John as he goes through his practiced actions, Sherlock considers that statement. "You're not. You're a good man, the best man I know." he says simply before he smirks a little. "What you lack in intelligence you make up for in morality."
"I'm going to choose to take that as a compliment." John says as he glances over at the brunette, then he sighs. "Come here, stay still." he says as he gets a cotton swab soaked in alcohol and with his free hand he grasps Sherlock's chin to hold him still before he starts to dab lightly at a few cuts on those incredibly sharp cheekbones and across his forehead a little.
Sherlock is surprisingly obedient as he looks up at the doctor, though he does wince a few times when John gets a little too enthusiastic in his cleaning. "You had best tend to your own wounds, Doctor, and stop fussing over mine." he says finally, reaching up to wrap long fingers around John's wrist and remove his hand from the detective's chin before he turns a critical eye to his friend. "I imagine you're going to be quite bruised, I'll get you some ice for your side, I saw how one of them continued to punch you in the same area, it surely is heavily bruised." he says before he slowly gets up, scratching his head for a moment and running his fingers through the short strands before he slips by John and heads out to the kitchen, letting the doctor clean up in peace.
Watching his friend go, John shakes his head a little as he removes his shirt, wincing as he sees the bruising of his ribs and nodding a little. "Of course he's bloody right." he mutters before he tosses the shirt aside and grabs a wash cloth to get cleaned up, applying band aids to what he needs to, which really isn't much mostly he uses the same cotton swab and peroxide method of cleaning out the cuts and scrapes on his hands and face, frowning as he sees the state of his knuckles. He gets a little lost in his thoughts as he goes through this routine, not even noticing the brunette watching him from the doorway until he glances up in the mirror, starting a little since he had been drying his face. "Bloody hell, Sherlock. Don't sneak up on me like that.."
Instead of answering right away, the taller boy holds out a fresh t-shirt, and then an ice pack. "I've been standing here for three minutes, that's hardly sneaking up on you." He points out dryly as he watches the blonde, waiting for the items to be taken before he leans carefully against the door frame, already in his own new clothes, but being careful not to jar his injured shoulder. "I came back for something for the pain in my shoulder." he says simply.
After taking the shirt from the taller man and putting it on, John opens the medicine cabinet and tosses a bottle of pills to the detective. "Take two." The doctor instructs before he presses the ice pack against his side. "Now, if you don't mind, I'm going to get myself a cuppa, something to eat and then lay down and watch some tellie, because you're right, my side is really starting to hurt." He says before he leans over a little, bracing his free hand on the sink for a moment. "I think we've had enough excitement for today." he decides before he straightens and heads out past Sherlock and toward the kitchen.
Actually seeming quite concerned about this once he witnesses the slight collapse in the doctor's control, Sherlock turns and follows him. "Go lay down, I'll make tea, and order some food." he says as he ushers John out of the kitchen, handing him the bottle of aspirin after taking two himself, then he starts the tea, wanting to be the one who takes care of John for once.
John can't help but smile a little and he nods, "Thanks." he says before he goes to the couch and lays down, taking some of the aspiring before he turns on the TV and flips through channels until he finds something mindless to watch, though his eyes slide over to watch the glimpses of the detective as he bustles away in the kitchen. He smiles a little as he glances back at the show, all the while thinking what a very odd man Sherlock is, and how very glad he is to have met him.
They just can't help but get into trouble. Sherlock is a trouble magnet, much like he's a taxi magnet. :D I am proud of myself that I actually (sort of) got this done on time, sorry about the wonky posting schedule. Hope you all enjoy!
Reviews/Comments welcome!