The power of medicine was incredible, as John hardly felt pain at all when he woke up again in the hospital bed. All John could remember-after being rolled into the ambulance- was people trying to talk to him and ask him what happened; obviously John didn't reply to anyone, as all he wanted to do was go to sleep.
So when John woke up- as the sun's light entered through the blinds- all John was able to do was think. The drugs given to him was still in his system after the operation, so he couldn't feel anything in his shoulder or his limping leg. The thought of hopping to close the blinds more fully was considered, but then as he tried to move, as sharp pain stabbed in the back of his head, so dropped his head and told himself not to do it again.
Soon nurses and doctors would come in to-more likely- make this pain worse, which John wasn't prepared for, so he wondered how long he would be in the room. Around him was none of his belongings, so his clothes must be in the drawers next to him. On the table was a phone used to call the reception area; a jug of water (accompanied with a glass); and a leaflet with the title: 'Top 10 reasons as to why you shouldn't drink'. Straight away, when he is able to move, the leaflet is going in the bin.
After two hours of waiting, a nurse came in to open the blinds and window, and after- when he saw John was awake- he ran back out the room again, leaving the door open. The sounds of people shouting; the smell of hospital food; and the wind from outside filled the room instantly, which made John feel as if he was going to throw up.
"Ah, Dr John Watson." said the doctor- a man with broad shoulders and a slouched back which made him look like death if he was to wear black- who had black hair; following behind him was the same doctor who ran out the room moments ago, "I see you're awake then. I'm Doctor Carlton. How are you feeling?"
"Well, I'm not enjoying myself, if that's what you want to know." he said. Slowly- trying not to make the pain worse- he lifted himself so that his neck was up straight, "So when can I leave?"
The doctor just laughed as he walked over to him and patted John on the shoulder; unfortunately he chose the wrong shoulder, making John wince at the pain, "Ohm, not for a day or two. We have to make sure that you recover fully before we release you. Use this time to catch up with rest, even read that leaflet provided by us. You were in a drunken state when we fixed your wound, which should heal nicely with time. All I want to do now doctor is ask a few questions before we let your visitors in."
John just nodded, not believing that there were people visiting him. Doctor Carlton continued, "Do you feel any pain besides your shoulder?"
"Only in my head, but that's just from the drinking." said John, "Oh, and my leg, but I already know about that."
"Okay." he said, writing it down on a clipboard, "Next, do you take any medication or pills?"
"Just painkillers." said John bluntly.
"Right." he said, then telling the nurse to collect John's visitors from reception, "And the final question. Do you feel have the impulse to vomit? As this is a sign of nausea."
"Only when I woke up." said John.
"Well we can give you medicine for that, but for now that's all I need to ask. The nurse is bringing in your visitors now. I have to warn you there are two of them, just in case you might want to prepare yourself."
"Nope. I'm good." said John. The doctor finally left the room and closed the door behind him, leaving him in the silence again which was becoming better than hearing anything else. Only John enjoyed this silence for a few minutes until the door opened again, entering the nurse followed by two people behind him. Greg and Mycroft.
"Doctor Carlton says you have to take it easy on him, as he's only just woken up. Use the telephone if you need anything else Mr Holmes." said the nurse, who turned around and exited the room again, closing the door behind him.
John didn't really want to see either of them; he was hoping one of the visitors was Mrs Hudson, or a member of his family. Anyone besides these two, "Greg. Mycroft." he said, nodding at the pair.
"Jesus John," said Greg, who pulled up a chair and sat down next to the bed. On the outside Greg looked as worried when they were talking in the pub; Mycroft just looked like Mycroft: emotionless and still, "Mycroft told me what happened. I just couldn't believe it. I feel as if it's my fault, you know. I left you. I should have walked you home or called you a cab."
"Well, never mind." said John, "But hey, shit happens."
"John, I can assure you that humour isn't necessary at this moment-" said Mycroft, but John quickly cut him off.
"Well, I'll use humour as much as I want to. It's more fun." he said, then asking Mycroft, "So you called the ambulance then?"
"I don't know what you're talking about. I was informed by the hospital that you were currently in surgery for your wound and so I thought it was best to call DI Lestrade." said Mycroft, who walked over to the window to stare down into the streets.
"Don't play bullshit with me Mycroft. They told me what you did. Don't pretend they don't exist!" said John. He still hadn't forgotten about those kids who found him.
Mycroft looked over at John and sighed at him in- John guessed-pity, before turning his head towards Greg, "DI Lestrade. If you would kindly wait outside the room while John and I talk for a moment?"
Greg gave each of them a curious look-obviously he wanted to stay longer to get a chance to talk to John- before getting up off his chair and walking towards the door while looking back a couple of times. When Greg finally left the room and closed the door behind him, Mycroft looked back at John and was- this time- looking at him with impatience.
"They are paid to not be seen; only Sherlock and I were able to see them. They're paid to give us information without being seen or caught by anyone. This morning you shouldn't have seen them, and you won't see them again." he said. John looked over and saw Mycroft gripped the top of his umbrella so much that his knuckles turned to white.
"Yeah, they told me all of this. But they also told me they're homeless, so why would you pay children to stay homeless?! Why don't you just get them a place to stay, since they have none?" Now John was getting fully irritated with Mycroft's excuse of not giving them a home.
"They told Sherlock on the first day he hired them, that they don't want to go to a home as they want to stay with each other. If you ask me it's all rather a waste of time-"
"A waste of time?!" John was about to jump out of his bed to show properly how he felt, but his shoulders started to tense again, so decided against the idea, "There's a nine year old in that group, Mycroft! Didn't you know that?!"
"Of course I knew that! That is why I urged them to accept accommodation that I offered, but they refused."
"But surely they don't want to stay out there all the time? And then you hear on the news about kidnapping. And that isn't the worst of it, isn't it? You've seen the news recently, how do you know they'll be safe?" said John. It was true: John did worry for them immensely, even if he only knew they existed for less than a day. Looking back at the window, Mycroft rested his body on the wall next to it and heaved a sigh towards John.
"Believe me John, I'm trying to persuade them to get safe lodgings for the time being, but they have told me themselves they would prefer to live out there rather than somewhere secure." A buzz came from Mycroft's phone. John was expecting him to look at the phone, but instead he straightened his whole body; brushed down his suit; and started to head towards the door, "It seems as though I am late for an important meeting. It doesn't matter who with, before you ask. DI Lestrade will be with you for a couple of minutes before the nurse orders him to leave." he opened the door to let Greg in as Mycroft was walking out. Through the room entrance, Mycroft called in the hallway, "Don't worry John! I'll be seeing you very shortly!"
Now that was the last thing John needed for the start of the day: an appearance by Mycroft followed by a guaranteed appearance from Mycroft. When they first met, it's not like he didn't like the man, but at the start of those three years, he's grown to like him less and less until he reached the point that he didn't want to look at him anymore. Today, he had to talk to him.
All those teenagers- and a child- were at a great risk considering what has happened to homeless teenagers like themselves. Again, John wasn't sure why he cared so much. Maybe because they reminded him of all the teenagers and children that had lost their parents in a case that Scotland Yard had to solve. When Sherlock would take these cases, John worried constantly for them. John wondered if Sherlock would care now just as much as he does.
Author's Note: So I decided to upload this early for fun. I also realised I can upload whenever I want because it's the summer holidays :) There will still be an update on Sunday. If you would like this story to go in a certain direction then just comment and I'll consider it :)