Sherlock story
Deleted Memories, Chapter five
Author's note: I will be moving back in time until we come to the present. There are prompt to prevent confusion. As always, thanks to everyone who takes the time to review. It is deeply appreciation and I learn from it. Warning: post Reichenbach spoilers. Hope you enjoy
17 days ago
Yesterday was a blur John thought to himself. Finding Sherlock; the ambulance ride, cardiac resuscitation, emergency surgery.
Lestrade stayed with John until it was certain Sherlock was out of immediate danger. He then left briefly returning only now. John had manhandled his way into intensive care. John was told only family could stay with Sherlock, but he would not take no for an answer.
Lestrade had taken the hospital official aside and whatever he said had worked.
Lestrade could not convince John to go home and rest. In the end, a nurse had taken pity on John and directed him to an unoccupied room.
"You need to shower and change, don't want to frighten the other patients," she said as she looked pointedly at his undershirt and jacket.
Both were stained with dry blood. She smiled sympathetically and left when he nodded his understanding. He quickly showered and changed into fresh clothes that Lestrade had one of the officers to fetch.
John observed Sherlock now.
His skin was an incredibly pale contrasts next to his dark curly hair and bruises. Bandages were wrapped around his torso, and various places on his body. Both wrists were heavily bandaged.
Machines beeped away in soft rhythm. Oxygen, monitors, tubes, and fluids crowded the room.
It unnerved John to see Sherlock so incredibly still.
Sherlock was never still.
Sherlock had always seemed very strong, bigger than life, his whole presence filling a room. Now he looked unbelievably fragile, as if he would break when touched.
John sat cross-legged in the chair that had materialized while he took the shower. He would not leave.
Now that the crisis was over, John gave Lestrade the details of what he knew; what Sherlock had told him. Lestrade's face grew stone-like at the mention of Nidal Ayyad's name.
He was the third in command in Moriarty's collapsed kingdom. Ayyad was assumed dead for seven months. He asked John a few questions as he pulled out his phone. Donovan and another officer joined him. Lestrade left the group and pulled John aside privately.
"I'm leaving an officer outside Sherlock's room for a few days," Lestrade said while holding a phone up to his ear. He said goodbye to whoever was on the other end and disconnected the call.
John grew concerned. "Greg, I thought you said the suspect in the warehouse where Sherlock was found, was dead."
"Strictly speaking yes, but if Nidal Ayyad is alive and involved in Sherlock's abduction in any way, this may not be over." Greg handed John a cup of coffee one of the officers had retrieved.
"Don't worry; the officer is just a precaution… for now." Lestrade's phone buzzed, he glanced briefly at the screen. "Sorry," he said to John, "needed at the Yard."
"Thanks Greg, for everything I mean." He shook Lestrade's hand.
Lestrade turned to look at Sherlock.
"He drives me to madness sometimes, but the truth is I'm quite fond of him… though if you repeat it I'll deny the whole thing," Lestrade said with some emotion.
Lestrade looked at Sherlock one last time before turning to leave. Sherlock was alive, the shock was still settling in. He decided then he would do everything in his power to make sure Sherlock stayed that way.
John sat down in the hard plastic chair woodenly, he then caved in on himself; the adrenaline was gone. There was nothing to be done now, except wait.
He always hated that part.