John thought he might have passed out but he wasn't sure. The ride was a big blur. He knew they gave him something for the pain and that might have caused the confusion. He never did handle pain killers very well.
When he finally came to he was lying in a bed in a room by himself. His shoulder was tender but didn't hurt so much. He looked down to see his arm was in a sting. His wrist was in a brace of it's own. Do doubt he had strained it. Had he landed on it? That didn't seem right. Maybe he had rolled on it.
The whole fight was kind of a blur. He had never seen Sherlock so angry. They always bickered from time to time but they had never got that carried away. The fact that Sherlock hit him made me angry as hell. The fact that John had been so scared of him right before he hit him really scared him.
Why had he told Sherlock it was ok to lie? He would never tell any woman it was ok to lie about a way they had got an injury. He would never want Isabell or Wisteria to lie about something a guy had to done to them?
Perhaps he had told him it was ok to lie because they were men. It was ok for men to fight wasn't it?
John was lost in his thoughts when the door to his room opened a nurse walked in.
"Hi," she said looking down at the chart in her hands. "How are you?"
"A little sore," John admitted.
"Well you had to have ten stitches," the woman explained. "And you have a sprained wrist. The report that came in with you said that you tripped."
"Yes," John said. "I have two children. Toys are always all over the place. I tripped and landed on the coffee table. "
"I know how it is," she said with a laugh. "I have four. How old are they?"
John couldn't believe he had lied again. The words were slipping out easier every time he said it.
"My oldest is Four years and the little one is ten months," John said.
The nurse was looking over the paper work. She frowned and flipped through it again.
"I guess," she said, looking up at him, "that I'm a bit confused. You say that you tripped but it is clear by the injurys that you fell backwords. Maybe it's just me but when I trip I fall forward. Plus you seemed pretty panakied when they tried to exam you."
Damn. She wasn't buying his story at all. He guessed she heard that kind of stuff all day.
"I don't know," John said. "I guess I just got turned around somehow. I fell. That's all I know. I was in pain. What do you expect from me?"
"I see," she said. "I'll just write that down. Your husband called and hes on the way. There is a Greg Lestrade here to see you. Do you want to talk to him?"
"Of course," John said.
The nurse nodded, turned, and left the let out a deep breath and looked around the room. That woman had really put him on the stop. He felt like the bad guy in all this.
Bad guy? Sherlock wasn't a bad guy. He had just lost his temper. It wouldn't happen again. John was willing to let it slip by once. Never again. If Sherlock ever put his hands on him again he'd leave him. He'd take the kids and go.
The door opened and Lestrade walked in. He wasn't smiling. That made John nervous.
"Hi John," he said sitting down in one of the chairs. "Mrs. Hudson called me and told me what happened. I wanted to see how you were."
"I'm fine," John lied. "Just a little banged up."
"I'm not stupid," Greg said. "I'm a cop. I see this all the time. You're lying and I don't know why."
"I'm not lying," John said getting a bit defensive. "I told the truth."
"There are holes in your story and I could push this. Mrs. Hudson already told me you two were fighting. She could hear you two going at it and then there was a crash." Lestrade said. "If there is evidence that someone has been abused I don't need your testimoney. I don't want to do that. It could make a big mess. You have two very young children. I don't want to see child services getting involved. I want the two of you to work this
out."
John didn't know what to say. He didn't want all this to happen. It didn't want all this trouble. He didn't know lying would cause this. Abused? What's Lestrade taking it a bit too far. After all Sherlock had never hit him before.
"I just want you to think about this," Greg said. "Just think. I think you both need help. If he did this you need to tell me. I promise I won't arrest him unless you want to press charges. If he did do this he needs a very long talking to."
"I fell," John said through clinched teeth.
Without another word Greg up and walked out of the room. John curled up into his pillow. He felt alone and lost.
-
"Papa fell," Isabell answered for Sherlock when he found no words.
"Fell?" Mycroft asked spinng his unbrella a bit. "He fell hard enough to need an ambalance?"
"He cut himself bad," Sherlock said nodding to mess of glass.
"Well," Mycroft said. "I'm still going to take the kids. You need
to be with him Sherlock. You still want to go with me Isabell?"
"Yes," the young girl said. "I'll get my bag."
Mycroft didn't say anything as he collected Wisteria's diaper bag. He slung it over his shoulder and took Wisteria into his arms.
"This place needs a cleaning," Mycroft said looking around the
room. "No wonder he tripped. Best get on that soon."
Part of Sherlock wondered if Mycroft already knew what happened.
Perhaps he even had video of it. He swore there were no cameras in that flat but Sherlock didn't believe him.
"I'm going to be at the hosptial," Sherlock said. "They took him to Bards so I have to go. I have to see him."
"I hope everything will be alright," Mycroft said in a soft voice.
Isabell appeared at the door again. Despite everything she was smiling. She loved being with her Uncle. She could always forget her troubles.
"Hug?" Sherlock asked his daughter.
Isabell's smile waved for a second. She seemed to be forcing it now. She walked over to her father and allowed him to hug her. It didn't feel natural. She backed away quickly and ran beside Mycroft.
"Alright," Mycroft said. "I'll bring the kids by the hosptial in a couple of hours."
Sherlock watched as he brother and children left the room. He stood there for the longest time looking at the broken glass and the blood. It made him sick.
He quickly left the room and headed to the hosptial.
-
When Sherlock entered the waiting room he wasn't surprised to see Mrs. Hudson wasn't the only one there. Lestrade sat next to her drinking a cup of coffee. He walked over to them.
"How is he?" Sherlock questioned.
"As good as can be expected," Mrs. Hudson said getting to her feet. "I have to use the restroom."
She walked past him without another word. Sherlock looked at Lestrade with a questioning look.
"Something you would like to say?" Lestrade said leaning back in his seat.
"How bad is it?" the consulting detective asked walking closer to him.
"I don't know how many stitches he needed," Lestrade said. "But I do know his wrist was also sprained."
"I have to see him," Sherlock said walking to the front desk.
"Really nasty fall that was," Greg said to Sherlock's retreacting back.
Sherlock felt the hairs stand up on his neck. Lestrade knew what had happened. He had to have. Had John told him? Sherlock wouldn't blame if he did. Part of him wanted to turn around and confess his crime but he couldn't bring himself to do it.
The nurse quickly gave him John's room number and led him there. She walked back towards the desk.
Sherlock sighed and he opened the door. John was lying in the bed and for a second Sherlock thought he might be asleep.
"Is that you Sherlock?" John asked in a soft voice.
"Yes," Sherlock said sitting down in the chair next to the bed. "Is it ok for me to be here?"
"Yes," John said simply. "Does Mycroft have the kids?"
"He came by right after they took you," his husband explained. "Did you tell Lestrade? He seems to know."
"No," the good doctor said still not facing Sherlock. "He has his mind made up though. Mrs. Hudson heard us fighting."
"Are you going to tell him?" Sherlock asked.
"No," John said rolling over to look at him. "I'm going to pretend as if this never happened. If you want to tell thats your buisness. I'm going to give you a second chance. But I promise you that if you ever put your hands on me again I'll press charges, leave, and take the kids."
"Never John," Sherlock said placing an hand on his injurged arm. "Never. Is there anything you need?"
"Smuggle me some good food in here," John said with a chuckle. "I know how hosptial food is. I'm going to be staying the night. They haven't told me I have to but I'm going to stay. I need the rest."
"Of course," Sherlock said getting up. "I'll go get you some chinese perhaps."
"Sounds good," John said giving him a little smile.
Sherlock patted his arm and walked out of the room.
-
Little Isabell manged to forget her troubles as soon as she was in the pool. The cool water felt so good.
Mycroft always reserved the whole pool so they could have it to them selves. She could swim pretty good. She could even go in water of her head.
She had no idea she was swimming in the pool where her real father had nearly taken the lives of her adoptive parents. Mycroft hoped she would never come into that knowledge.
The eldest home sat in a chair off to the side. Young Wisteria sat in his lap with a sippy cup in her hands. He never did take a liking to little child but it was different with his nieces.
Isabell climbed out of the pool and sat on the edge dipping her feet in it.
"Everything alright little one?" Mycroft asked.
"I guess," she said kicking her feet in the water.
"Is this about what happened with your parents?" he questioned.
Of course he knew what had happened that room. He didn't have cameras in there anymore but he didn't have to be Sherlock to know what happened.
"Yes," she said glancing up at him. "I saw it."
"Don't worry to much about it," her uncle said. "Sometimes adults fight. What happened was bad but I know it won't happen again."
"I don't want them to fight anymore," Isabell confessed on the verge of tears. "I don't like it."
"I have an idea," he said not wanting to see the little one so upset. "How would you like to meet an old friend of mine?"