Sherlock story

Deleted Memories, Chapter 155

Warning: post Reichenbach spoilers. Hope you enjoy

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A/N: A few post left.

"Our sorrows and wounds are healed only when we touch them with compassion." Buddha

Present Day - Day One in the Hospital.

Thomas opened his eyes slowly. Disjoined images merged and pieced themselves together. He frowned as he saw a face looking at him. He tried to speak but the cotton in his throat prevented him and he coughed. At least it felt like someone had stuffed cotton down his throat.

He heard a grunt coming from the chair beside his bed and within a minute, a shaky hand helped him to drink some water. He looked at his left leg that was elevated in a cast and then he looked at the man sitting in the chair next to him.

"Mr. Holmes," he looked him up and down and smile sleepily, "Alive I see."

"Your deductive skills are in top form, Thomas," Sherlock said with raised eyebrows; his voice held no hint of mockery however.

Thomas closed his eyes briefly then opened them thinking. "Doctor Watson?"

"A little beat up, but he's okay. Better than the rest of us apparently. He's getting intravenous fluids. He's not happy about the fact." Sherlock smirked at the idea of John not wanting medical treatment. His mind wondered briefly as he considered how the universe had finally shifted in his favors.

"Was I hallucinating or did I hear that Mycroft Holmes was injured?" Thomas asked unsure of the memory.

Sherlock mood changed dramatically. "Yes, but he is ok. I kept sneaking into recovery. The staff threatened me. Mycroft opened his eyes long enough to order them to leave me alone. He then ordered them to transfer him to my room. They finally agreed to the transfer. They're in the process of moving him now." Sherlock's voice was barely above a whisper now.

Mycroft had really scared him. He vaguely wondered if that was how Mycroft felt when he was the one in the hospital bed and Mycroft was staring down.

Thomas took in Sherlock battered appearance and sunken eyes; he wondered how he was even upright much less running around the hospital with an IV pole and tubes hanging from his arm. He knew Holmes; at least he had not taken the IV out of his vein yet. Mr. Holmes had his own dressing gown from home. They had not needed to use the short gown trick this time to keep him in the hospital. Thomas knew he would not leave as long as Mycroft Holmes was a patient.

Thomas sighed.

"How did you get out of your room, there should be guards on both you and Mycroft?" Thomas wondered out loud.

Sherlock raised his eyebrows and gave him the don't be an idiot look.

Thomas partially raised his hands in surrender.

Thomas smiled as he folded his arms, "You came to check on me."

"Don't be ridiculous, I was simply passing your room and was bored."

Thomas frowned, "Oh, am I next door to your room or something?"

"Close," Sherlock looked around suddenly. His hands played with the edge of his dressing gown.

"How close," Thomas was suddenly suspicious.

Sherlock cleared his throat before answering. "A floor or two, maybe four," he said waving his hands dismissively.

Thomas started to smile again.

Sherlock sighed at Thomas' smile before asking. "So, how are you feeling?"

Thomas eyes were getting heavy now. "I feel no pain, Mr. Holmes, whatever they have me on is the goooood stuff."

"I'll better be getting back now; you need to sleep. By the way, I'll speak to the security detail; it only makes sense that you're transferred closer to where we are. Four floors away is ridiculous."

"Four f… floor, huh." Thomas smirked as he started to slur.

"Shut up," Sherlock commented as he struggled to get upright. He held on to the IV pole and used it to steady himself. He waited a few second for the dizziness to pass and then slowly, gingerly he made his way to the door.

"Can you make it?" A sleepy Thomas asked concerned.

"Don't I always." Sherlock called over his shoulder as he made his way to the door.

He glanced at the door and smirked, "Mycroft should have reached the room by now. Mycroft will be furious that I am not there, right before he passes out again, of course." Sherlock reached the doorway. With his back still to the door, he added as he turned his head only, "Thank you, Thomas." Sherlock looked him in the eyes.

Thomas looked back smiled and nodded as he watched Holmes disappear down the hall.

As the pull of darkness claimed him, he smiled as he thought about how the pain medication was even better than he thought, because he believed he just heard Sherlock Holmes say, thank you.