Don't touch him.
Leave him alone.
Is he alive?
Yes I'm afraid so.
Voices.
Shut up Tom, you're a bloody idiot.
Wiggi! Tom said a bad word.
Now look what you've done Tom.
Who-or what-were these voices? Was he imagining this? All of this?
Guys, can we all just give him space for a minute. Let me make sure he's alright then do what you want.
A sharp pain in his shoulder caused him to black out again.
Isn't that John Watson? You know that guy who worked with that guy who hired us?
Hey, weren't them two together?
I bet they were, maybe we should ask him.
Why didn't you just leave him in the alley? We can't look after him!
Of course we can. I just couldn't leave him.
He needs help.
In a split second, John's eyes finally opened in a swift movement, causing people around him to jump back. It was all too much for John, he should be dead. Not unless this was the afterlife, but the way the afterlife is described is far more enchanting than where he is now. He started to panic. Breathing became a too difficult task for him; even though he might be alive, he was very much petrified for what has happened to him.
"Wiggins! He's awake. What do we do?" said someone to the left of him; someone who sounded very much like a child.
"Should we knock him out again just for the hell of it?" said another person, who was stood just above him aiming a baseball bat at his head, causing John to squirm from his lying position. The figure was just about to raise the bat when he saw another hand grab it away.
"Tom, stop acting like such a dick. He doesn't need you threatening to kill him off again."
"I wasn't going to kill him you idiot. You're just being over dramatic like you usually are and you know why? It's because you're a woman."
John heard a quick shift of feet, followed by trails of people screaming at each other, "Say that again! I fucking dare you! Wiggins just let me kill this motherfucker and get it done with."
"Wiggi! Now they're both saying a bad word!" said a small voice-of a girl- that was from a person grabbing his hand tightly. What frightened John was how terribly young the girl sounded.
"Tom! Ines! Stop acting like a bunch of kids and go find me some more bandages." said the voice of somebody who sounded far older than the rest. John guessed that this was 'Wiggi'. The figure crouched down next to him and applied a cold cloth onto his forehead, but not cold enough to help him, "Can you hear me?"
A bright light was now gleaming in his view, causing John to wince, "Pupils are constricting. No irregular eye movement. No sign of concussion. I think it's just his shoulder that's the problem, but all he needs to do is get to a hospital. I've already contacted Mycroft through CCTV so they should be here soon. Now John, if you can hear me, I need you to keep still, alright? You're an army doctor so you should know to keep pressure on the wound and avoid moving too much."
"Who-" John tried to talk, but his words were getting more harder to understand, "Who are-"
"He doesn't need to know who we are. Myc told us to keep quiet. Make sure no one knows us and carry on with our lives. However after Tom and Ines's fine performance, he already knows most of our names now anyway."
"Daniel, can you please just do something and apply pressure on the wound? I need to get more supplies from Martha." said Wiggins. The pressure on his arm was gone for a brief moment until it was replaced with another hand. He could sense that there might be two people sat around him.
"Danny, is he going to be okay? I hope he's going to be okay. Johnny!" called the girl, over to his other side, "Do you think he will be okay?" There was no answer. Maybe-John thought- the girl made a mistake and was instead talking to him.
"Kathy, don't talk to Johnson, okay?" said Daniel. From this, John assumes 'Johnny' was short for Johnson, "I'm sure he'll be fine. Remember those things Sherlock told us about John?"
Sherlock. They knew Sherlock. But how?
"Yeah, I do. Sherly told us that he was like a knight who was really brave and liked jumpers. I like jumpers, so we have something in common."
"What's-" said John, who saw the pair turn their eyes towards him, "-happened...to me?"
"Um, well we're not sure. Wiggins came back and said that he found you in an alley and asked me and Johnson to help pick you up. Luckily there weren't much people in the streets so we got you here easily enough. You do remember what happened don't you? You were stabbed in the shoulder, remember?" said Daniel, taking the cloth on his head and switching the sides, so it was cold again.
"Where...am I?" asked John, trying to turn his head from side to side.
"Well, right now we're under a bridge near Baker Street. Sorry we couldn't get anywhere more glamorous enough to satisfy you." said Daniel. As John's eyes refocused, it was confirmed that he was under a bridge, lying on a small pathway close to a running river. It was still dark outside, but there was a flickering light coming from near his feet; it was letting out a pleasing warmth from it. He was also able to see the three people there more clearly. The one closest to him was a boy, no older than 17 years old. In a way, they both looked the same, as they both had sandy blonde hair and blue eyes. However, his hair was covered with a grey cap and his body was covered in layers of coats.
Next to him- the one who was holding his hand- was a young child who must have been younger than 10 years old. Just like Daniel, she also wore layers of dark grey clothing and had her long, brown hair scrunched to the back of her head, but was loose enough for strands to fall.
The one who had been keeping quiet- Johnson- looked the same age as Daniel, but his eyes were much more older with dark ovals forming below them. His clothes were covered in- what John guessed- blood from carrying him to where they were now. All three of them looked young enough to still be in school, but looking at them now, John assumed they didn't go to school, or even have a home.
"Are you, homeless?" John asked, wondering if he would offend them, "Or- go to school?"
"Yes to the first. No to the second." said Daniel, raising his hands to stress where they were now.
"How do you- you know, live?" asked John.
"Well, we get by easily. People pay us so that's good enough. Especially if we do work for them. We used to work for-"
"Shut up Daniel." said Johnson, who was glaring at the three of them.
"Well, he must know. He's seen the others before. And we can't keep a secret from someone who knew Sherlock well." said Daniel, turning to face John again, "Our 'organisation' is called Baker Street Irregulars and it consists of two groups: us and another group who are much older than us who travel much more."
"We help Sherly with stuff. I like it when he asks us to help, I feel like a detective, LIKE HIM!" said Kathy, who was bouncing excitedly in her place.
"You knew Sherlock?" asked John curiously.
"Of course we knew him. He hired us and he paid us when Kathy told him about us being homeless. But now that he, well you know, what happened three years ago. We've had to earn ourselves more money than usual. But we've coped well enough." said Daniel, who stood up and started to head away from him, "I need to help Wiggins get supplies since we're losing stock. Johnson's here to look after you."
Once he was gone, Kathy shuffled closer towards John, but never let go of his hand, "I'm sorry sir, about Sherly going away," she said. John grimaced at the thought of it all again. The fall. The blood. The years. Again, he started to breath heavily and was nearly at the point of tears, but because of Kathy's gesture of holding his hand; he calmed down and told himself not to cry in front of her, "I liked him, and his coat. I asked if I could wear his coat. He said it was too big for me."
"You know it probably was." said John. Since he didn't feel much pain, he raised his other hand and placed it over hers, "How old are you?"
"I'm nine years old sir. But it's my birthday soon so I'm going to be ten, and ten is-" she paused, and John could see her counting the numbers in her head, "-a double number, so it's really important."
"I bet it is." he said. Still, Johnson did nothing. All he'd done besides say three words was look at the river; and only the river, "But don't you have a family? A mum? A dad?"
"Well, I don't remember sir. I was too young to remember, it was long ago though, because I remember having four birthdays." she said with pride.
"Wait, so you've been like this since you were five?" He asked in a shocking manner that the girl ended up giggling at him.
"Yes, well maybe. But I was five before Sherly went away. Maybe that's why he wouldn't let me wear the coat, because he needed it-" she was cut short by the large sounds of steps growing faster towards them, followed by the sounds of sirens. Johnson quickly stood up and gathered all his things in a bag; Kathy did the same.
"He called a bloody ambulance!" called Ines, who ran under the bridge to kick the fire into the water, "Myc called an ambulance. I thought he was going to bring one of those black cars?"
"That's what I thought!" called Tom, who ran to Ines's side and picked up the other bags, "Wiggins! Hurry up, we need to get out of here!"
All five of them began running out from under the bridge; he could hear Kathy calling John to say goodbye, but it sounded too far away. However-when he felt he was on his own- he sensed someone crouch down near him to replace the cloth on his head.
"John, if you can hear me then listen," said Wiggins, who was out of breath from running, "That ambulance is for you. Mycroft called them and told them you were here. We need to leave. They can't see us or else we'll get sent to a foster home. None of us want that. You'll be fine. I've treated the wound well enough for it to be easily healed by medical help." Wiggins stood back up and started to run away from the confused John, but stopped and turned to say, "It was a pleasure speaking with you, Doctor Watson."
And with that, he was gone. So John was on his own, but for some reason he couldn't feel the pain in his shoulder, or even his leg, even if he was stabbed there moments ago. He couldn't even feel the pain he had suffered in the years. It all seemed to melt away, but he wasn't sure why. The ambulance grew nearer and nearer until he heard the vehicle stop just on top of the bridge and the sound of the paramedics travelling down towards him.
Even when they tried to talk to him, he couldn't reply. Whether it was under the bridge or in the ambulance. Maybe he was still getting over the fact that he accused his friend for Sherlock's death, begged to be killed, got stabbed in his shoulder and met the youngest homeless people he had ever met.
John had the feeling that he would meet the Baker Street Irregulars again.
Hello, just would like to say- now that I've revealed them- that I don't own Sherlock, except for Kathy, Ines, Daniel, Tom and Johnson :)
Constructive criticism is very much appreciated :)
Update will be in a week :)
SJ