John blinked slowly feeling the world blur together, a pair of very inquisitive gray eyes were staring down at him. Once more John felt an edge of déjà vu, except those eyes weren't viewing him like he would a specimen under his microscope.
There was a hint of worry and an exhaustion that crept over the familiar insipid face.
"You blacked out." Came the rough whisper.
The doctor couldn't stop the grin starting to pull at the edges of his lips, "Not the first time, or the last I guess. You okay? Is Moran-" John tried to sit up, wincing immediately from the sharp pain in his side.
Strong hands were pushing him back onto the pillows. "Of course I'm fine. And Moran is dead. For a minute there I thought. I thought it was your blood soaking the ground but it was him. He didn't make it off the roof. Anyway he doesn't matter. You do."
John allowed his friend to adjust the pillows behind him and offer him something to drink.
John couldn't believe it, Moran was dead, the threat was over. And his own friend, John's best friend was alive. What a dirty, awful, brilliant and a bloody genius trick. And here he was Sherlock Holmes, alive. Alive!
The ex soldier reached out and squeezed his friends forearm, startling the man who was about to leave and fetch a nurse.
"It can wait. Sit." John nodded towards the chair his friend obviously had been occupying.
"You've broken more ribs and have a slight concussion. The idiot doctor my dear brother has employed to take over your care, thinks it best to allow you your rest. I was just here until you-"
"Shut up." John cut the younger man off. Gray eyes shot away from the one of the monitors and locking onto the doctor's blue. "You sit."
Sherlock visibly gulped and then nodded doing as his friend instructed. The now blond detective slowly took his seat grimacing as he plopped down slowly into the uncomfortable chair. John remembered his friends wound, the doctor in him wanted to look it over, he needed to be sure it was taken care of. John tried to keep a straight face but Sherlock was looking down at his hands like a beaten puppy. It was amusing to see the younger man fidget and try to look anywhere but at John.
"So here's how this works, I'm getting the hell out of here as soon as one of Mycroft's minions gets the paperwork rolling. Then I hear we are going to the beach. As in you and I. As in you aren't going anywhere until that has been properly looked over. I can see it still hurts and if you catch an infection and die I'll revive you just to kill you myself."
"John-"
"Shut it. I'm not done." John growled. "You have a hell of a lot to explain, and I mean a hell of a lot. That and we really need to get that awful color out of your hair. Blond makes you look a bit washed out."
Sherlock frowned his face still pale he looked slowly up towards his friend. "We'll figure out what to do. I guess it's only fair to give you back 221B but I hope you'll give Hamish and I a week or two to find something else."
"You're moving?"
"Yeah. I don't suppose you want a growing four year old underfoot."
"Almost five." Sherlock corrected, his eyes roaming over his friends face. "And I don't mind the boy. He's curious and interesting. Not at all dull."
"Oh? You wouldnt mind living with us? I mean it can get a bit cramped but I haven't touched the things in your room." a smile spread over Sherlock's face.
"He's tolerable. And he does like pirates."
"You've met him then?"
"Yes. He's nothing like you were John. He's much more adventurous. Except there is one thing."
"Oh?" John queried.
"He does have that annoying trait of idolizing Mycroft. We have to put a stop to it. The boy already wants to work for the Government. The GOVERNMENT John. Can you believe it. It's a ploy my brother knows this would annoy us."
"I'm sure that's exactly it." John laughed hissing in pain immediately after. "Sherlock I missed you, you idiot."
"John I'm sorry if I make you regret becoming my friend."
"No, like I said you have a lot of explaining to do. As does Mycroft. The one time you two work together-" The ex soldier shakes his head.
"John it-"
"I know. I know. It was to protect me. I get it. I don't like it but I get it. At this point I just want to get out of here and see my son."
"He really is a surprisingly intelligent boy."
"Well, he gets it from his mother." John sighed "And maybe all the time he spends with his uncle Myc. You know he's better at manipulating the poor man than you ever were."
Sherlock frowned, "Really? Interesting. I'll have to test this theory. Perhaps we can make him a double agent of some kind."
"Oh no you don't Sherlock Holmes. You will not be teaching my son to pick pocket his uncle and whatever else you have in mind."
Sherlock put a hand to his chest, pouting as if John had really hurt him. "John, I'm shocked you would think me capable of such things."
"Sherlock." John warned.
"I'll go find the minion that can release you."
John rolled his eyes, "Speaking of the British Government. Where is your brother?"
"Hiding. Or playing at damage control. You chose."
"Why would he be hiding? What have you said to him?" John narrowed his blue eyes on his friend.
"I haven't said a word. You know Mycroft. He thinks you are going to be angry."
"I am angry." John frowned, gingerly massaging his temples.
"He thinks you wont want to speak to him again." Sherlock's voice lowered and he didn't want to admit he assumed the same for them both.
"Oh? Oh. I get it. He thinks like you. I swear you two. You would think knowing me this long-you know what never mind. Ugh, I suppose it's cruel to let him stew any longer. Do you think he's lurking about? Maybe you can send him in?"
"I think you should allow him to contemplate his sins. This was partly his idea."
"Sherlock." John warned.
"But John-" the consulting detective couldn't help but whine.
"Send the prat in. And I'm going to need another change of clothes. I suppose the others have Moran's blood all over them."
"Fine." Sherlock grumbled walking out into the hall.
Lestrade entered shortly after. "John. Glad to see you well-alive. For a minute there I thought you were well you know." Lestrade plopped down into the chair Sherlock vacated.
"I swear these Holmes are going to turn me gray, I mean all the way gray."
John nodded with a smile "Yeah, well I'm not far behind you."
"So, not dead then." Lestrade sighed running a hand over his face. "Cant wait to see Anderson and Donavan's face when they see him strutting in onto the crime scene. Well that's if I get one he finds interesting. I m sure nothing is going to be able to top whatever adventures he's been on without us."
John nodded and there was an awkward silence between the two men.
"Well then I'll get going. Molly wanted to pop in and see you but she's got a body and all. You know Moran-"
Lestrade cleared his throat "Never mind. I hear you're going on a holiday. We can talk about it later. And I'm sure you'll be filling me in some."
John smiled "As soon as I can."
"Tell the kid Molly and I say hello."
"I will. " John looked over at the DI who was making a hasty exit. "Greg." He called out.
"Yeah?"
"Thanks for trying to keep an eye on him."
"He's gotten slippery. I'm a bit rusty but after today's events I think I might put a tracking device on him. Wonder if Mycroft can get us a chip, we can tag his ear. While he's sleeping. Well anyway. I'm off."
The DI waved and left John in the room alone, the sounds of beeping machines and the buzz of the monitors to keep him company.