Best of Intentions 3/?
anonymous
August 5 2011, 07:07:10 UTC
Hospital. Sherlock knew where he was the moment he awoke. He moved to sit, and abandon the bed when he felt the firm pressure of a hand on his chest.
"I think not."
Sherlock turned and faced Mycroft, who appeared absorbed in a newspaper. Sherlock made to speak but nothing save a harsh cough escaped his throat.
Never lifting his eyes from the paper, Mycroft poured water from the hospital carafe into the cup that came with it, he slipped a straw in and handed it to Sherlock. Sherlock drank all the water, cleared his throat and once again began to speak.
Mycroft turned a page of the newspaper "John is in another room. As you know, he sustained far more serious injuries than you." At this, Mycrofts eyes flicked to Sherlock and back to the paper in a mere second. "He is stable and expected to make a complete physical recovery."
"Physical." Sherlock closed his eyes.
Mycroft folded the paper and placed it in his lap, he turned to Sherlock "If the doctors deem you sufficiently recovered, you will be allowed to stay with Dr. Watson. If you disturb the nurses or other staff however, I will have you removed."
Sherlock shifted, he wanted to bolt from the room and find John "Where' s the doctor?"
Mycroft pushed the call button by Sherlock's bed "Give them time." Mycroft reached for Sherlock's hand, he grabbed it and refused to allow Sherlock to release his grip "Dr. Watson needs to know that you are healthy, that you are, as he is so fond of saying 'fine'. It is almost all he needs to ensure a complete recovery Sherlock. You know this."
Sherlock relaxed his own hold. With only his brother in the room, Sherlock allowed his face to reflect the overwhelming grief and fear he was feeling "I don't."
Mycroft frowned "Sherloc--"
Sherlock lowered his head and tightened his grip on Mycroft's hand "He did it to break me. I-I thought playing the part, making him believe he was succeeding, with all those words and pictures and-would-"
"Sherlock." Mycroft grasped his brothers chin firmly "Are you fool enough to believe this is your fault?" Mycroft shook Sherlock's head gently "Are you?"
Sherlock merely looked back.
"He was ready to die for you. He's already killed. He's seen more, experienced more than you ever have."
Sherlock scowled slightly "That has-"
"All that mattered was you. Full stop. The moment he sees you are alive and intact in every way possible he will return."
Sherlock stilled for a few moments "You nearly slapped me."
"I would have. You have a concussion."
The door opened and a nurse entered.
"Took you long enough" Sherlock scowled.
"I'll fetch the doctor." The nurse hurried out.
"Continue to behave like that and you'll have to adhere to hospital visting hours. I'll also make sure one of my men stays with you."
Oh wow. WOW. I don't think I dared to breathe while reading this. So intense and dramatic! I love it. I like how Sherlock's "performance" of being worse off than he was ended up feeding into John's PTSD. And I love the fact Mycroft gives John his due as being as tough as he is, yet realizes John needs to see Sherlock is well in order to recover. I can't wait for more. I'm really loving this. Fantastic job!
Re: Best of Intentions 3/?
anonymous
August 5 2011, 12:21:48 UTC
Oh, well done! Full of suspense, and the dialogue between the brothers sounded very IC.
But... but... was it Lestrade, then, who opened that door? What happened? Is he hurt? Is Mycroft's smile a clue that he is not? I need to know more, author!
Best of Intentions 4/?
anonymous
August 9 2011, 08:01:51 UTC
He stated repeatedly to Mycroft that he belived the doctors insisting he use a wheelchair was an indication of their 'gnat like' minds. Mycroft raised an eybrow and told Sherlock that his usage of the phrase 'gnat like' proved the doctors correct.
Sherlock did, however, feel he had won something; he had been allowed to wear his pyjamas. He had tried to convince Mycroft that trousers and a shirt were the best items of clothing to wear. That had earned Sherlock the one look from Mycroft that made his hairs stand on end and his stomach tighten. It was the same one Mycroft, who had been fifteen, had bestowed upon him when Sherlock was eight years old and had been discovered dragging the settee to the back garden with a can of petrol, a dead toad and a box of matches.
Mycroft was walking at a infuriating slow pace in front of Sherlock. When his brother stopped, Sherlock yelled out "this isn't John's room" he made to move beyond Mycroft but stopped when he heard Mycroft declare;
"Detective Inspector?"
Sherlock rolled his wheelchair back and was caught by the image before him. Lestrade, lying pale and very bruised. Two IV bags hung from a pole and a nasel cannula sat under his nose. "Lestrade?" Sherlock rolled in very slowly, taking in every inch of the DI.
Lestrade had a cast on his right arm that snaked up to cover his elbow, both eyes were blackened, one tightly shut, his bottom lip had ten--no eighteen--stiches that led to the point of his chin. His face was swollen, his nose broken and his left had was bandaged to the knuckles, blood still staining the gauze. From his breathing, Sherlock knew that more than one rib had been broken.
"Who did this to you?" Sherlocks voice was almost feral, it carried with it immense anger and a tinge of fear. For the rest of his life, Lestrade would always remember that moment and bring it forth when Sherlock was at his most irksome, most troubling and most hearless. For it proved that Sherlock was far from the Sociopath he pretended to be, and carried a heart for those he cared for deep beneath his iron exterior.
"'ohn" Lestrade slurred out, for his tongue held several stiches too.
"W-w-what?" Sherlock was completely nonplussed, yet another expression Lestrade would hold with him. It almost made him smile, Sherlock so comepletely taken aback as to not only break that mask of his but to actually stammer.
"We thought it most prudent for the DI to appear first to Dr. Watson. We believed a familiar face would be helpful."
Lestrade tried to let out a huff, but it came out as a pained moan.
"Upon seeing the DI, Dr.Watson attacked him. The DI did not resist. He tried his best to ensure that the doctor did not injure himself further, thus the many injuries he himself has sustained."
At this point, Lestrade glared at Mycroft.
"Mycroft shifted his feet, a clear sign to Sherlock that he was uneasy. My men did not intervene untill Dr.Watson passed out. I assure you that the DI did nothing to harm the doctor.
"Obviously." Sherlock was scathing at his brother. "He'd never hurt John."
Lestrade felt his throat tighten and his eyes water at Sherlock's comment.
Sherlock's eyes flicked over Lestrade as if he were a piece of vital evidence.
"I must say, I am seriously considering placing Dr. Watson amongst my most trusted associates."
Sherlock whirled to his brother, his face a furious shade of red, he began to stand when Mycroft raised a hand;
"A jest Sherlock. Merely a jest. I believe we are tiring the DI. He should be released in a day or two, you may visit him as you like." Mycroft turned and exited the room.
Sherlock lowered his eyes to the floor and then raised them again, his features had softened, it was a look that, untill that moment only John and his brother had ever been privy too "Thank you."
Lestrade nodded his head once and moved his bandaged hand towards Sherlock. Sherlock clasped it gently between both his hands and then wheeled out of the room.
OMG, this is beautiful. I love Sherlock's outrage, wanting to know who did this to Lestrade. I love his absolute certainty that Lestrade would never hurt John.
The fact Lestrade didn't even fight back, but just took the abuse and tried to prevent John from hurting himself... oh, my heart! I love how you underscore his quiet heroism here, and I love even more how he's moved by Sherlock's reaction to his injuries and his confidence that Lestrade wouldn't harm John. Not only does it mean a lot to us, the readers, but it means a lot to Lestrade, too. The last moments, with Sherlock thanking him and taking his hand, put tears in my eyes. *flails*
I am so happy you are enjoying this. I was a bit worried because I didn't have sherlock be in actual trouble, but the bunny bit.
This is turning out to be a far more massive story than I planned. I had hoped to do an update every day or two but it's taking me longer. I have all the plot points and ideas worked out, so I will finish this but it could take some time. I'm trying my damndest to avoid 'americanisms' so, I apologize if anything sticks out.
Many more parts to come. John care, investigation and the like. If you have any plot points that you'd like included please let me know and I'll try and fit them in!
Oh, no worries about Sherlock; I really liked the twist that he was cleverly fooling everyone about his condition. That's so him.
Please don't feel rushed on my account. I'm not going anywhere! And it's really thrilling, to think you've got ideas worked out, and it's going to be an involved and plotted story with many more parts to come. Sounds absolutely delicious!
If you have any plot points that you'd like included please let me know and I'll try and fit them in!
Oh, you're so kind! :) Thank you. I love investigation and plot, so this sounds marvelous. John care is ideal. He's such a BAMF, even when he's wounded and confused. I'd love to see John and Lestrade have a moment sometime, just dealing with what happened (I suspect John won't like the fact he did this to his would-be rescuer, and I also suspect Lestrade doesn't hold him accountable at all - can you tell I adore both John and Lestrade? such great characters), but only if it fits in your plan. Whatever you have mapped out, I know it will be fantastic!
"I think not."
Sherlock turned and faced Mycroft, who appeared absorbed in a newspaper. Sherlock made to speak but nothing save a harsh cough escaped his throat.
Never lifting his eyes from the paper, Mycroft poured water from the hospital carafe into the cup that came with it, he slipped a straw in and handed it to Sherlock. Sherlock drank all the water, cleared his throat and once again began to speak.
Mycroft turned a page of the newspaper "John is in another room. As you know, he sustained far more serious injuries than you." At this, Mycrofts eyes flicked to Sherlock and back to the paper in a mere second. "He is stable and expected to make a complete physical recovery."
"Physical." Sherlock closed his eyes.
Mycroft folded the paper and placed it in his lap, he turned to Sherlock "If the doctors deem you sufficiently recovered, you will be allowed to stay with Dr. Watson. If you disturb the nurses or other staff however, I will have you removed."
Sherlock shifted, he wanted to bolt from the room and find John "Where' s the doctor?"
Mycroft pushed the call button by Sherlock's bed "Give them time." Mycroft reached for Sherlock's hand, he grabbed it and refused to allow Sherlock to release his grip "Dr. Watson needs to know that you are healthy, that you are, as he is so fond of saying 'fine'. It is almost all he needs to ensure a complete recovery Sherlock. You know this."
Sherlock relaxed his own hold. With only his brother in the room, Sherlock allowed his face to reflect the overwhelming grief and fear he was feeling "I don't."
Mycroft frowned "Sherloc--"
Sherlock lowered his head and tightened his grip on Mycroft's hand "He did it to break me. I-I thought playing the part, making him believe he was succeeding, with all those words and pictures and-would-"
"Sherlock." Mycroft grasped his brothers chin firmly "Are you fool enough to believe this is your fault?" Mycroft shook Sherlock's head gently "Are you?"
Sherlock merely looked back.
"He was ready to die for you. He's already killed. He's seen more, experienced more than you ever have."
Sherlock scowled slightly "That has-"
"All that mattered was you. Full stop. The moment he sees you are alive and intact in every way possible he will return."
Sherlock stilled for a few moments "You nearly slapped me."
"I would have. You have a concussion."
The door opened and a nurse entered.
"Took you long enough" Sherlock scowled.
"I'll fetch the doctor." The nurse hurried out.
"Continue to behave like that and you'll have to adhere to hospital visting hours. I'll also make sure one of my men stays with you."
"Please, that nurse is under your employ."
Mycroft smiled and picked up the newspaper.
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But... but... was it Lestrade, then, who opened that door? What happened? Is he hurt? Is Mycroft's smile a clue that he is not? I need to know more, author!
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Sherlock did, however, feel he had won something; he had been allowed to wear his pyjamas. He had tried to convince Mycroft that trousers and a shirt were the best items of clothing to wear. That had earned Sherlock the one look from Mycroft that made his hairs stand on end and his stomach tighten. It was the same one Mycroft, who had been fifteen, had bestowed upon him when Sherlock was eight years old and had been discovered dragging the settee to the back garden with a can of petrol, a dead toad and a box of matches.
Mycroft was walking at a infuriating slow pace in front of Sherlock. When his brother stopped, Sherlock yelled out "this isn't John's room" he made to move beyond Mycroft but stopped when he heard Mycroft declare;
"Detective Inspector?"
Sherlock rolled his wheelchair back and was caught by the image before him. Lestrade, lying pale and very bruised. Two IV bags hung from a pole and a nasel cannula sat under his nose. "Lestrade?" Sherlock rolled in very slowly, taking in every inch of the DI.
Lestrade had a cast on his right arm that snaked up to cover his elbow, both eyes were blackened, one tightly shut, his bottom lip had ten--no eighteen--stiches that led to the point of his chin. His face was swollen, his nose broken and his left had was bandaged to the knuckles, blood still staining the gauze. From his breathing, Sherlock knew that more than one rib had been broken.
"Who did this to you?" Sherlocks voice was almost feral, it carried with it immense anger and a tinge of fear. For the rest of his life, Lestrade would always remember that moment and bring it forth when Sherlock was at his most irksome, most troubling and most hearless. For it proved that Sherlock was far from the Sociopath he pretended to be, and carried a heart for those he cared for deep beneath his iron exterior.
"'ohn" Lestrade slurred out, for his tongue held several stiches too.
"W-w-what?" Sherlock was completely nonplussed, yet another expression Lestrade would hold with him. It almost made him smile, Sherlock so comepletely taken aback as to not only break that mask of his but to actually stammer.
"We thought it most prudent for the DI to appear first to Dr. Watson. We believed a familiar face would be helpful."
Lestrade tried to let out a huff, but it came out as a pained moan.
"Upon seeing the DI, Dr.Watson attacked him. The DI did not resist. He tried his best to ensure that the doctor did not injure himself further, thus the many injuries he himself has sustained."
At this point, Lestrade glared at Mycroft.
"Mycroft shifted his feet, a clear sign to Sherlock that he was uneasy. My men did not intervene untill Dr.Watson passed out. I assure you that the DI did nothing to harm the doctor.
"Obviously." Sherlock was scathing at his brother. "He'd never hurt John."
Lestrade felt his throat tighten and his eyes water at Sherlock's comment.
Sherlock's eyes flicked over Lestrade as if he were a piece of vital evidence.
"I must say, I am seriously considering placing Dr. Watson amongst my most trusted associates."
Sherlock whirled to his brother, his face a furious shade of red, he began to stand when Mycroft raised a hand;
"A jest Sherlock. Merely a jest. I believe we are tiring the DI. He should be released in a day or two, you may visit him as you like." Mycroft turned and exited the room.
Sherlock lowered his eyes to the floor and then raised them again, his features had softened, it was a look that, untill that moment only John and his brother had ever been privy too "Thank you."
Lestrade nodded his head once and moved his bandaged hand towards Sherlock. Sherlock clasped it gently between both his hands and then wheeled out of the room.
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The fact Lestrade didn't even fight back, but just took the abuse and tried to prevent John from hurting himself... oh, my heart! I love how you underscore his quiet heroism here, and I love even more how he's moved by Sherlock's reaction to his injuries and his confidence that Lestrade wouldn't harm John. Not only does it mean a lot to us, the readers, but it means a lot to Lestrade, too. The last moments, with Sherlock thanking him and taking his hand, put tears in my eyes. *flails*
This is all I could've wanted and more.
You, anon, are brilliant. And so is your story.
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This is turning out to be a far more massive story than I planned. I had hoped to do an update every day or two but it's taking me longer. I have all the plot points and ideas worked out, so I will finish this but it could take some time. I'm trying my damndest to avoid 'americanisms' so, I apologize if anything sticks out.
Many more parts to come. John care, investigation and the like. If you have any plot points that you'd like included please let me know and I'll try and fit them in!
Reply
Oh, no worries about Sherlock; I really liked the twist that he was cleverly fooling everyone about his condition. That's so him.
Please don't feel rushed on my account. I'm not going anywhere! And it's really thrilling, to think you've got ideas worked out, and it's going to be an involved and plotted story with many more parts to come. Sounds absolutely delicious!
If you have any plot points that you'd like included please let me know and I'll try and fit them in!
Oh, you're so kind! :) Thank you. I love investigation and plot, so this sounds marvelous. John care is ideal. He's such a BAMF, even when he's wounded and confused. I'd love to see John and Lestrade have a moment sometime, just dealing with what happened (I suspect John won't like the fact he did this to his would-be rescuer, and I also suspect Lestrade doesn't hold him accountable at all - can you tell I adore both John and Lestrade? such great characters), but only if it fits in your plan. Whatever you have mapped out, I know it will be fantastic!
Thanks again!
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