He gazed up at John, just as his young soldier's eyes opened.
John squinted and frowned, due to the light and he was evidently confused. His eyes were a greyish brown and they looked so young.
Before Sherlock could dim the lights down, a nurse (or what appeared to be a nurse) came in through the door. He nodded at Sherlock and went around him to do something to John's medication. Sherlock smirked, sometimes he did love his brother's role as 'part of' the government.
The man looked at the chart and observed John.
"Hello John, my name's James."
John hesitated after that, his face showed he wanted to say something. James interrupted his train of thought,
"Do you know where you are John?"
John hesitated again, but spoke out this time,
"Umm...I-I'm in a, well, a-a hospital?" He asked the question, whilst observing everything. However the way he said it made Sherlock cringed, it was like he was asking or seeking approval to speak. He kept his anger at bay, for now. His voice was definitely from London. A bit more softer and definitely not cockney, it was just right. Sherlock thought to himself.
"Yes you are..." James interrupted his thoughts once more.
John sat up at this. Sherlock could see the confusion on his face. Unfortunately Sherlock was also the one to see realisation dawn on his face, several seconds later. John's eyes saddened, immediately. The sight of his eyes, made Sherlock think of Redbeard. No, now is not the time, his inner voice reminded him. As he gazed once more at John. He looked distraught,
"It's all my fault..." John had whispered to himself then anybody else, but Sherlock heard him and immediately stood up,
"It is not your fault."
John jumped at this, he hadn't seen Sherlock. James looked between them,
"I'll just go, press the call button if you need anything, Mr Holmes." His Irish accent drawled into Sherlock's ears. Sherlock didn't have a response and just ignored him, as James went out the room. What he didn't see was James smiling, almost laughing when out the door.
"Hello, my name is Sherlock Holmes." John looked up at him. His hair could be mistaken for blonde, was it blonde? No very light blondish brownish. Sherlock's thoughts all gathered together until he heard a noise,
"Hello M-my name is John." Sherlock smiled at this, then frowned. He wasn't good at sympathy,
"I, well, I'm sorry about your mum." John frowned at this and nodded. A lot of seconds passed, before John spoke,
"Will-will I have to..." He stopped and sniffed, tears were forming in his eyes. He continued, "...Will I have to live on the streets? Mother always told me, told me that I belonged there. That I should be there." At this tears dragged their way through.
"What?..." Sherlock found his voice.
"I just, please, need food, water and some medicine..."
Anger seized Sherlock,
"You will not have to live there."
John looked up once more, confusion invaded his face,
"But..."
"John, please trust me, you will not have to live there."
John gazed at Sherlock and tears of joy formed in his eyes. He smiled and quietly whispered,
"Thank you."
Sherlock stood stunned, he definitely wasn't expecting that. Then he remembered.
"Umm John..."
"Y-yes?"
"There is something, something I have to tell you...I'm..." Sherlock stopped suddenly, "...did you mother ever tell you what happened to your father?"
"My father?...I've never had one..."
"I'm afraid you have...I am him."
A/N: This was actually quite a hard chapter to write. I was really tempted to put, "John, I am your father." Again, thank you putting this as a favourite and for following it. :)