Sherlock story
Deleted Memories, Chapter 102
Warning: post Reichenbach spoilers. Hope you enjoy
*As always thanks for reading, a special thanks to all of you who take the time to review, comment, and favorite.
"There has to be evil so that good can prove its purity above it." ~ Buddha
Present Day
Twelve Minutes Later.
John walked in and saw Sherlock on the floor. He closed his eyes and said a silent thank you while looking up. Most of the room had cleared now except for a few officers and Anderson who was about to leave. The body and suspect had already been transported.
One male and one female emergency worker were in the corner eyeing Sherlock suspiciously. They were apparently waiting for Sherlock to pass out or collapse so that they would have a right to take him to the hospital. As John looked at Sherlock he considered the fact that they may not have long to wait.
John considered Sherlock quietly for a moment. John was surprised that he found Sherlock on the floor sitting. He normally would not sit on the floor in public since he considered it undignified. There was no furniture in the room. It demonstrated how tired he was.
Sherlock sat on the floor with his head leaning against the wall with his eyes closed. He had one leg straight. His other leg was bent at the knee. The top of Sherlock's shirt was open at the chest and missing buttons. His shirt sleeve had a rip on one arm with a small amount of blood on that arm and shirt. His face sported a new bruise and new split lip. His hair was also more unruly than normal.
Two things surprised John; one was then he still had the orange shock blanket on, the other was that he had at least let the emergency workers dress his right side. John was told the it was a bullet that had luckily just superficially grazed his side.
He sighed again and walked over next to Sherlock. Sherlock's eyes remained closed. John thought for a moment then lowered himself to sit on the floor next to Sherlock.
Mycroft considered the two briefly then he continued his conversation on the phone.
Sherlock's eyes remained close.
Sherlock spoke without opening his eyes.
"The next time that I call you John Watson, answer the phone," Sherlock replied calmly.
"Oh. Yeah. Sorry. I was researching private airfield within a specific radius. I had a crazy idea that they were going to take you there and try to get you out of the country."
Sherlock opened one eye then the other and looked at John.
"Headache?" John asked.
Sherlock nodded once. This made him grimace. He thought it wise to speak an answer after that and said, "Yes."
''Actually from what I've overheard in the ambulance, they were headed there before they were… stopped. Very good, John."
John waited for the usual unintentional insult the followed a compliment but it never came.
John frowned, "How bad is that headache?"
"Can I not give a compliment?" Sherlock sighed long-sufferingly.
"Yeah…, sorry." John smiled now.
John was almost afraid to say it. He looked at Mycroft who raised an eyebrow but kept talking on the phone. He then looked at Lestrade who nodded but made no move to come closer.
"Cowards," John thought to himself. John took a deep breath then opened his mouth.
"No," Sherlock interrupted with his eyes closed again.
"You've been drugged, shot…," at Sherlock's raised eyebrow John clarified, "… ok, grazed with a bullet. I'm sure that you've managed to leak all the fluids out that was put back into you earlier, you're sweating like a pig. I'm sure you've re-injured your ribs and you're breathing so harshly, I can hear it." John wanted to say more but thought it best to stop there.
"Are you done?" Sherlock asked.
"Yes."
"Hum, let me think about it…, noooo." Sherlock opened one eye again then the other. He pointedly looked at Mycroft then Lestrade. Mycroft chose that moment to turn his back and end his call. Lestrade found the door to the hallway suddenly fascinating.
"Ok," John said as he pursed his lips and sat cross-ankled beside Sherlock.
Sherlock sat quietly for a few minutes until he could not stand it and said.
"That's it?" Sherlock asked.
"That's it," John confirmed.
John gesture with his head to the corner of the room where the emergency personnel were. "By the way, why are they looking terrified?"
Sherlock smiled for the first time, "That's my secret."
"You let them put dressings on the side with the bullet wounded… um, I mean where the bullet grazed you." John stated surprised.
"I thought that I could hold it over your head and that it would help me with my, see I don't need the hospital John, argument," Sherlock replied honestly.
"Oh" John looked over to the two emergency personnel still in the corner. They looked like petulant children that had been punished and were waiting for permission to come out.
John sighed, "You do know terrifying them will make it harder for me to sweet-talk supplies out of them."
Sherlock looked at them and looked at John with a raised eyebrow, "Don't worry, you'll be successful when you ask for the supplies, John."
John was curious. "Why?"
"You are being…," Sherlock looked up briefly. Sherlock searched his data for an acceptable word or phrase,… "Checked out… sexually." Sherlock added smirking now. "They're both looking your way John, take your pick, maybe both." Sherlock was now fully smiling.
John looked in the corner.
"Smile John, tell them you're a doctor, say your friend is a bit of a nutter. It'll work." Sherlock instructed.
"So, you're saying, tell the truth." John asked with a suddenly serious face.
Despite Sherlock's glare, he had a half smile on his face.
John raised himself up and walked off to the corner.
Mycroft headed over to Sherlock. He leaned against the wall and had one hand on his umbrella. He looked down at Sherlock. "I made sure that they swept your flat to make sure that it was not bugged. It was cleared. We can head there now."
Sherlock looked up, curious. "You ran recently."
Mycroft said nothing he only looked at Sherlock.
"Um, thank you Mycroft, I mean for everything." Sherlock did not look away from his brother's eyes.
Mycroft frowned slightly, "Sherlock do you realize that you've just said thank you?"
"I was drugged. Strictly speaking, I'm not responsible for my actions." Sherlock offered.
Sherlock hesitated slightly before adding, "Mycroft… do you realize that you let me have my way without world war three breaking out between us."
"As you pointed out, dear brother, I ran. You know how much sweat disorients me."
Sherlock raised an eyebrow as he smiled. He noticed John walking back with a bag of supplies.
Lestrade was walking back after ending a call.
Mycroft looked at the three men and said, "Let's go, shall we."
"Sorry Mycroft, there's one small problem," Sherlock said hoping only they could hear, "I cannot seem to get up."
Both John and Mycroft looked at Sherlock.
Lestrade reached and then asked, "Problem?"
"I can't seem to get up; I've informed my body of its traitorous nature. It doesn't seem to care."
"Oh," Lestrade said. John, Mycroft, and Lestrade looked at each other.
Mycroft and John put out a hand.
Sherlock sighed, extended one hand to Mycroft's and one hand to John
Sherlock grunted as he was pulled up. Lestrade helped as well. They had to practically lift Sherlock to his feet.
"Ok," John asked a little concerned. He knew that any adrenaline had left. He could tell that Sherlock was crashing physically.
"I need a second," Sherlock blinked away the dizziness. He was grateful that most of the people were gone, especially Anderson.
The four men did not realize or notice what the few people still in the room did. The three men had formed a protective cluster around Sherlock. Mycroft positioned himself to Sherlock's right. John positioned himself on Sherlock's left, and Lestrade positioned himself directly behind.
They moved slowly. Sherlock was limping slightly again.
"Oy, wait a minute," John said while holding up one finger. He jogged back to one officer and retrieved an object then ran back. He extended his arm to Sherlock.
Sherlock stared as he swallowed hard with emotion and looked at John.
"Thought you might need this," John shrugged.
Sherlock nodded wordlessly as he held John's gaze for a moment. Then he smiled gratefully a real smile that few ever saw but John. One that was not calculating or manipulative. The smile lit up Sherlock's face and melted the sarcasm, harshness, and hardness away. He looked his age with that smile.
He looked at the orange shock blanket and let it fall where he stood. Lestrade helped him into his coat.
He nodded again at John.
For John, his smile was more than thanks enough and he smiled back. John suddenly looked apologetic and said, "Sorry Sherlock, I did not see your scarf."
"Oh it's on my ankle." Sherlock responded simply. John frowned confused but said nothing. He took up his position again and they started to move.
"Oh Mycroft, I'll need a new phone immediately."
"Sherlock you can use one of mine temporarily."
"I need my phone with my number in it. I need to be able to … text."
Mycroft sighed, "Give me three days Sherlock and you'll have it."
"One Mycroft, You can have them install your entire spy on your brother gadgets faster than that. Have the GPS installed faster."
Mycroft rolled his eyes, "One day," he agreed.
Lestrade agreed to drive.
A/N: a nutter is a crazy person.