Fic: The Reluctant Patient (prompt fill)
Another prompt fill for Make Me A Monday. Enjoy!
Title: The Reluctant Patient
Words: 1418
Rating: PG
Warnings: brief mentioning of a child being mistreated by doctors
Pairings : Sherlock/John (gen or pre-slash if you like)
Beta: this is a prompt fill, so written rather quickly and not beta'd
Disclaimer: Sadly the characters are not mine and no money is made (that would be sooo cool!).
Summary: Fill for this Make Me A Monday prompt: Mycroft informs John that John is now responsible for making sure Sherlock takes medical appointments (checkup/dentist/eye doctor/whatever). The problem is that getting Sherlock to go is like taking a pet to the vet. (You might try and hide the fact from them, but they KNOW and they are NOT PLEASED.)
The first time it happened, John thought nothing of it.
He had made a doctor's appointment for Sherlock for his annual check-up, a duty he took over from Mycroft after some gentle persuasion.
Apparently it had been his job until John came into the picture, a fact that did nothing to help the brothers' already complicated relationship. Therefore Mycroft, whose constant worrying wasn't appreciated anyway, gladly handed the responsibility over to John.
Without ever mentioning that there was a problem, of course. Or the fact that he had to threaten Sherlock with Mummy most of the time.
So John took the little notebook with all the information concerning Sherlock's doctors without much thinking about it. He was a doctor and he lived together with Sherlock after all, which more or less meant that he was taking care of him anyway. So how much trouble could it be?
He had no idea!
~°~
When the time of the annual check up drew near he made a call to the surgery to make an appointment. He was a little confused when the receptionist offered him two alternative dates, but thought that this was probably something Sherlock insisted on should there be a case.
He wrote the date on a post-it and stuck it on Sherlock's door. When he came home that day the post-it was gone, so he was convinced that he had done his duty and forgot about it.
Until the receptionist called and informed him that Sherlock had missed all three dates.
John made three new dates.
~°~
The next evening, Sherlock was lying on the sofa typing away on his laptop, John wandered over from the kitchen with his tea.
"Your surgery called to inform you that you missed your doctor's appointment. Didn't you see my post-it a few weeks back?"
"Hm?"
"Your annual check-up. You missed it. Did you forget?"
A raised eyebrow told him that please, Sherlock did never forget anything.
"Then what happened?"
"Case. Busy."
"Ok, well, anyway, I made you a new appointment. Do you think one of these dates will work?"
He handed Sherlock the piece of paper, who threw a quick look at it and then stuffed it into his pocket with a sort of affirmative hum.
John sat down in his armchair to read the newspaper and forgot about the whole thing again.
Until the receptionist called and informed him that Sherlock had missed all three dates again.
This time John began to wonder and asked her if that happened a lot. She told him that Sherlock usually appeared on the sixth date in a very foul mood.
John started to get the feeling that Mycroft had not told him everything. But he refused to back down or call for advice. He made three new dates.
~°~
He had to wait four days before he could talk to Sherlock, because he was working somewhere in the outskirts of London and never came home. At least not when John was there.
John got a little suspicious and called Lestrade who informed him that the case was over since yesterday and Sherlock had gone home. John grinned to himself. Sherlock was trying to avoid him just to escape his doctor's appointment? This was really getting ridiculous.
~°~
Over the next few weeks the two men played a game that both were very much inclined to win. Of course John had the more difficult part in this, because he had to come up with new ideas all the time.
At first he tried to bribe Sherlock. Then he tried to threaten him, which went particularly bad.
He tried reasoning with him, telling him that he had to stay healthy if he wanted to keep on living the way he did. Sherlock just huffed.
He tried accompanying him, but Sherlock managed to escape him in a crowded tube. He actually sneaked away like a cat in the dark. John was impressed against his will.
Finally he cornered him in the living room one evening.
"Ok, out with it. What is this whole doctor avoidance thing really about?"
"I don't like people touching me."
"Nonsense. I touch you all the time."
Sherlock opened his mouth, closed it again and - blushed!
"Did you just blush?"
"No."
"Yes, you did!" John giggled, but turned sober almost immediately when he saw Sherlock's face.
"Hey, it's nothing to be ashamed of. Happens to the best of us."
"It doesn't happen to me. Usually."
Sherlock looked extremely displeased, so John took pity on him.
"I won't mention it again, if it makes you uncomfortable. I don't understand though. You don't like other people to touch you. My touch you can tolerate. That actually is a compliment to me. Why are you embarrassed about it?"
By now Sherlock was effectively squirming and obviously looking for a way out of this conversation.
"Can we drop the subject if I agree to go to the doctor's appointment?"
"Nice try. No. Because that might be a solution for this appointment, but I don't want to repeat this charade every time you need to see a doctor."
"I don't need a doctor. I have you."
"Sherlock, I am your friend, I can't be your doctor. I am perfectly happy with stitching you up or anything like that, but you need to see another doctor from time to time."
Sherlock just glared at him. John sighed. They would get nowhere like this.
"Come here."
He waved and Sherlock moved slowly until he was standing next to him.
"Sit down." He waited until Sherlock found a comfortable position, and then sat down on the ground as well, until they were sitting back to back.
"What are you doing?" There was impatience in Sherlock's voice, but also uncertainty.
"I learned this in a rehabilitation centre. Sometimes it helps people to talk about things they don't want to talk about, because you don't have to look at the other person. You can find reassurance in physical contact if you want to nevertheless."
Sherlock huffed, but he did not move.
"Explain it to me, please." John said softly.
Sherlock was silent for a long time. Finally John felt a slight movement. Sherlock leaned back until there was the smallest of contact between their two bodies, then he exhaled and started to talk.
What followed was a tale that sounded like a bad novel. Sherlock had always been very slim and pale, so his parents sent him to take a cure at the sea side. The doctors there were amazed by the brilliant little boy and they did a lot of unpleasant and even painful tests on his brain.
They gave him puzzles to solve while making him sit in a tub full of cold water just to see how long it would take for his body to destroy his ability to think. What he remembered most though were the fingers digging into his skin to hold his almost naked body still during those tests.
Since then he hated the feeling of others touching his skin.
While he told John his story he put more and more weight into their contact until he was leaning fully against John's back. After a while they were breathing in perfect synchronisation.
When he finished his story, they sat in silence for a while. John thought that this explained the long-sleeved shirts, the gloves and his overall disgust for bodily reactions.
John carefully extended his hand and put it on the ground, palm up. After what felt like an awful long time Sherlock hesitantly put his hand over John's, just softly pressing their palms together.
"With you it is different. I don't know why, but I don't mind you touching me."
"You know me and you trust me.”
“No. I mean, yes, I do, but it’s not just that. You have been different from the beginning.”
John did not know what to say, so he just slightly pressed Sherlock’s hand.
“I think might have a solution for the problem. Do you think it would help if I came with you? I could explain the situation to the doctor and ensure that there will be as little touch as possible.”
“Why is it so important to you that I go?”
“Because I care about you.”
Silence.
Then, very softly, “You’ll come with me?”
“Yes.”
“Every time?” Softer still.
“Every time. As long as you need me.”
“Thank you.” So softly it was barely audible.
They sat in silence, pressed together from shoulder to hip, until the sun came up.
------------------
AN: This was supposed to be a cracky mini-fill... But apparently my ability to do short is starting to assimilate Verity's. And then Sherlock decided to be difficult again. *sighs*
Please ignore the stupid experiment thing. I just needed a reason for Sherlock's dislike of being touched.
I am not hinting on sexual abuse in any form here!
Thanks and kisses to Verity for the brainstorming and the title!
And to disassembly_rsn for the beta reading!