[Sherlock BB] --- Child's Compassion
Title: Child’s Compassion
Author: Alaylith
Rating: K+
Universe: BBC Sherlock
Characters: Sherlock, John
WordCount: 1.352
Warnings: (my English;) sad child; death mentioned, kid!Sherlock and kid!John; h/c
Summary: Entry for Watson's Woes challenge14 ~~~ In the hospital young Sherlock meets a boy and he is taught something new logic could not teach him.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Sherlock is bored.
Still looking down the hallway where his parents disappeared with Mycroft, Sherlock sighs slowly. Mycroft came to their parents with a stomach ache and even if it is obvious that he got a case of appendix their parents were extremely worried and rushed to the hospital. Sherlock had to go with them though being absorbed in a very interesting experiment.
“You are too young to stay home alone,” his mother had said, bundling him into his jacket and ushering him to the car.
As already said, Sherlock is bored.
Sherlock wanders to the waiting room and sits down. It's late so there are not many people waiting, only emergencies with almost no kith and kin are arriving at this hour.
Sherlock's eyes wander aimlessly over the people, but stop at a young boy. The boy’s just a bit older than Sherlock and sits completely alone at one wall of the room. His eyes are downcast and small sniffles are sometimes heard. Sherlock stares at the boy for a moment, observing everything about him and comes to his conclusions.
Sherlock’s still young and he always wishes to know everything and to prove himself. Normally he asks Mycroft for confirmation of his deductions and about anything that he has missed.
There's always something.
As Mycroft isn’t available, there is only one way to go about it.
“Father or Mother?”
Without realizing Sherlock crossed the room and stands now in front of the boy. Surprised the boy looks up and meets Sherlock’s eyes and for a moment Sherlock thinks it was a bad idea to approach the boy. The big eyes are full of pain and sorrow, tears pooling in the corners, but that is nothing compared with the resignation, fear and total hopelessness shining in their depths. Sherlock’s still staring and the boy slightly cocks his head, a tiny flicker of interest awakening in his eyes.
“What?”
Sherlock shakes himself mentally and returns to the reason why he approached the boy. “Who's dying - your father or your mother?”
The eyes widen and Sherlock fears for a moment that the tears are going to trail over the cheeks. But the cheeks stay dry and there is just curiosity birthed in the eyes.
“How do you know?”
“It's quite simple,” Sherlock answers and sits in the chair besides the boy.
“Most obvious is the fact that you are unhurt and there are no other indications that you were involved in any kind of accident. So that is not the reason for you to be here.
As you are fully clothed, even though it is so late and you should already be in bed, there was time enough for you to rise and dress, there was no frantic leaving of the house.
That’s suggests that the call to come to the hospital wasn't unexpected.
Another factor is that you are way too young to have come alone, there has to be a family member with you.
At this late hour only one of your parents would take you to the hospital; you may say that you're already longer here, but your hair is mused and your clothes in disarray, so you just dressed after being already in bed.
You are young, it is late and you are in a hospital - no parent would leave their child alone in such a situation only if there is one who needs them more. That means that one of your parents is the patient and the other is at their side.
If it were a sibling at least one of your parents would have stayed with you and there's no one else who could draw a parent from their child’s side.
And it's not possible that both are patients, it would contradict with the other points and you're not completely horrified - what you would be if you were going to lose them both.
Also you try to stay strong and to not cry, you try that for one of your parents who could return any moment and you do not wish to add to their own grief at losing their partner.
At last there is a certain level of acceptance in your eyes and even though you are sad, you are not shocked or desperate - meaning you were waiting for this; the death follows a longer sickness.
Only thing I can't be sure about is who is dying. I would assume your mother, because there is a high possibility that a mother would stay with their child when her husband is dying. A father would mostly try to lend strength to their wife.
So back to my question - father or mother?”
After rattling off all his deductions Sherlock returns his eyes to the boy and is surprised about the expression on the boy's face. The tears are almost gone and the eyes are wide with amazement, the mouth slightly open with wonderment. There even seems to be a bit of admiration in his eyes, but Sherlock cannot be sure. He’s never seen such in eyes looking at him.
People normally react quite differently to his observations.
“It is my mother,” the boy says finally with a low voice and his eyes wander back to the ground. “She's really sick, has been a long time and now…”
He swallows thickly and the tears return to his eyes. Sherlock shifts uneasily in his chair, emotional displays are not something he can understand or enjoy.
Logic’s always better.
“That's what people do.”
The boy sighs and nods slowly.
“Yes, they do.”
He may agree, but his shoulders start to shake slightly and Sherlock feels out of his depths.
Logic may be better but it's not helping. There must be something else to help the boy even though deep down Sherlock knows there's nothing he can do to lessen the pain.
There's only one thing…
“You can cry.”
The boy raises his head and looks at Sherlock and Sherlock is taken aback by the slight shimmer of … hope in the boy's eyes.
“There's no shame or weakness in crying,” Sherlock explains. “To love someone so much that you have to cry at loosing them - that is a gift, a gift you can be happy to have. So cry.”
The boy blinks slowly and one lonely tear is finally free to roll over his cheek. A watery smile curves his lips before more tears win their freedom and the boy lays a hand over his mouth to silence his sorrowful sobs. Before Sherlock felt uneasy but now there's a new feeling he never had before blossoming in his chest.
Compassion.
He moves his hand from his lap to the side of the chair so he can brush the hand of the boy and leaves his hands lightly touching the other.
Sherlock does not know how long they stay like this, when the boy stopped crying or when his hand was grabbed by another's warm hand, but he notices the man who steps into the waiting room, desperation and weariness reflected in the eyes which wander about the room.
“Your father’s here.”
The boy raises his head, deep sadness still in his eyes, but he is also radiating a kind of calmness.
The boy stands and turns, still holding Sherlock's hand in his own and smiles slightly.
“Thank you.”
Sherlock nods and their hands separate as the boy goes to his father, head held high and shoulders straightened. For a long time Sherlock’s still looking to where they went until a nurse gets him to bring him to his brother’s room.
With only one look at his brother, seeing that he is all right, Sherlock turns to his surprised mother and hugs her strongly. It's only logical to cherish your most important treasures as long as you have them.
And Sherlock is bored. That's all. Just bored…
+++
Both boys will always remember the lingering touch on their hands, even though everything else will fade. So when meeting each other decades later they will not recognize the other. But they'll always remember the compassion shown by a child.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Author: Alaylith
Rating: K+
Universe: BBC Sherlock
Characters: Sherlock, John
WordCount: 1.352
Warnings: (my English;) sad child; death mentioned, kid!Sherlock and kid!John; h/c
Summary: Entry for Watson's Woes challenge14 ~~~ In the hospital young Sherlock meets a boy and he is taught something new logic could not teach him.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Sherlock is bored.
Still looking down the hallway where his parents disappeared with Mycroft, Sherlock sighs slowly. Mycroft came to their parents with a stomach ache and even if it is obvious that he got a case of appendix their parents were extremely worried and rushed to the hospital. Sherlock had to go with them though being absorbed in a very interesting experiment.
“You are too young to stay home alone,” his mother had said, bundling him into his jacket and ushering him to the car.
As already said, Sherlock is bored.
Sherlock wanders to the waiting room and sits down. It's late so there are not many people waiting, only emergencies with almost no kith and kin are arriving at this hour.
Sherlock's eyes wander aimlessly over the people, but stop at a young boy. The boy’s just a bit older than Sherlock and sits completely alone at one wall of the room. His eyes are downcast and small sniffles are sometimes heard. Sherlock stares at the boy for a moment, observing everything about him and comes to his conclusions.
Sherlock’s still young and he always wishes to know everything and to prove himself. Normally he asks Mycroft for confirmation of his deductions and about anything that he has missed.
There's always something.
As Mycroft isn’t available, there is only one way to go about it.
“Father or Mother?”
Without realizing Sherlock crossed the room and stands now in front of the boy. Surprised the boy looks up and meets Sherlock’s eyes and for a moment Sherlock thinks it was a bad idea to approach the boy. The big eyes are full of pain and sorrow, tears pooling in the corners, but that is nothing compared with the resignation, fear and total hopelessness shining in their depths. Sherlock’s still staring and the boy slightly cocks his head, a tiny flicker of interest awakening in his eyes.
“What?”
Sherlock shakes himself mentally and returns to the reason why he approached the boy. “Who's dying - your father or your mother?”
The eyes widen and Sherlock fears for a moment that the tears are going to trail over the cheeks. But the cheeks stay dry and there is just curiosity birthed in the eyes.
“How do you know?”
“It's quite simple,” Sherlock answers and sits in the chair besides the boy.
“Most obvious is the fact that you are unhurt and there are no other indications that you were involved in any kind of accident. So that is not the reason for you to be here.
As you are fully clothed, even though it is so late and you should already be in bed, there was time enough for you to rise and dress, there was no frantic leaving of the house.
That’s suggests that the call to come to the hospital wasn't unexpected.
Another factor is that you are way too young to have come alone, there has to be a family member with you.
At this late hour only one of your parents would take you to the hospital; you may say that you're already longer here, but your hair is mused and your clothes in disarray, so you just dressed after being already in bed.
You are young, it is late and you are in a hospital - no parent would leave their child alone in such a situation only if there is one who needs them more. That means that one of your parents is the patient and the other is at their side.
If it were a sibling at least one of your parents would have stayed with you and there's no one else who could draw a parent from their child’s side.
And it's not possible that both are patients, it would contradict with the other points and you're not completely horrified - what you would be if you were going to lose them both.
Also you try to stay strong and to not cry, you try that for one of your parents who could return any moment and you do not wish to add to their own grief at losing their partner.
At last there is a certain level of acceptance in your eyes and even though you are sad, you are not shocked or desperate - meaning you were waiting for this; the death follows a longer sickness.
Only thing I can't be sure about is who is dying. I would assume your mother, because there is a high possibility that a mother would stay with their child when her husband is dying. A father would mostly try to lend strength to their wife.
So back to my question - father or mother?”
After rattling off all his deductions Sherlock returns his eyes to the boy and is surprised about the expression on the boy's face. The tears are almost gone and the eyes are wide with amazement, the mouth slightly open with wonderment. There even seems to be a bit of admiration in his eyes, but Sherlock cannot be sure. He’s never seen such in eyes looking at him.
People normally react quite differently to his observations.
“It is my mother,” the boy says finally with a low voice and his eyes wander back to the ground. “She's really sick, has been a long time and now…”
He swallows thickly and the tears return to his eyes. Sherlock shifts uneasily in his chair, emotional displays are not something he can understand or enjoy.
Logic’s always better.
“That's what people do.”
The boy sighs and nods slowly.
“Yes, they do.”
He may agree, but his shoulders start to shake slightly and Sherlock feels out of his depths.
Logic may be better but it's not helping. There must be something else to help the boy even though deep down Sherlock knows there's nothing he can do to lessen the pain.
There's only one thing…
“You can cry.”
The boy raises his head and looks at Sherlock and Sherlock is taken aback by the slight shimmer of … hope in the boy's eyes.
“There's no shame or weakness in crying,” Sherlock explains. “To love someone so much that you have to cry at loosing them - that is a gift, a gift you can be happy to have. So cry.”
The boy blinks slowly and one lonely tear is finally free to roll over his cheek. A watery smile curves his lips before more tears win their freedom and the boy lays a hand over his mouth to silence his sorrowful sobs. Before Sherlock felt uneasy but now there's a new feeling he never had before blossoming in his chest.
Compassion.
He moves his hand from his lap to the side of the chair so he can brush the hand of the boy and leaves his hands lightly touching the other.
Sherlock does not know how long they stay like this, when the boy stopped crying or when his hand was grabbed by another's warm hand, but he notices the man who steps into the waiting room, desperation and weariness reflected in the eyes which wander about the room.
“Your father’s here.”
The boy raises his head, deep sadness still in his eyes, but he is also radiating a kind of calmness.
The boy stands and turns, still holding Sherlock's hand in his own and smiles slightly.
“Thank you.”
Sherlock nods and their hands separate as the boy goes to his father, head held high and shoulders straightened. For a long time Sherlock’s still looking to where they went until a nurse gets him to bring him to his brother’s room.
With only one look at his brother, seeing that he is all right, Sherlock turns to his surprised mother and hugs her strongly. It's only logical to cherish your most important treasures as long as you have them.
And Sherlock is bored. That's all. Just bored…
+++
Both boys will always remember the lingering touch on their hands, even though everything else will fade. So when meeting each other decades later they will not recognize the other. But they'll always remember the compassion shown by a child.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~