bakerstreet | On Your Doorstep

On Your Doorstep

They ended up on your doorstep, quite literally. Bloody, possibly. Bruised, most definitely, though the wounds may be mental. You probably don't know them from Adam, yet you couldn't find it in you to turn them away - whether they wanted you to or not. So you opened up your home, just for a little while.

But it's getting to be more than a little while. Both of you are finding a comfort zone, because you didn't simply open up your home. Admit it or don't, but you've opened up your heart all the same.

Their's is slowly following, if its reluctant at all.

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[ If it were John, he'd hold Sherlock's nose and force it down. But like hell was he telling Sherlock that.

He keeps his head turned away, ]

I'd rather pass out.

John, you've got a crying newborn downstairs and you want me to let you pass out? You're wasting time.

[Sherlock's frustrated, so he sets the glass on the edge of the table so John can lean over and pick it up if he wants. He needs to clean the wound and sterilise his instruments, which he starts to do by picking up his bottle of distilled water - the same one he uses for his kitchen experiments - and holds it over John's arm.]

I'm going to flush the wound, then I'll clean it with alcohol.

[ He whips his head around to look at the other man, ignoring for the moment how the room was spinning. ]

You are wasting time. Get on with it!

[ He has had a long, trying night to say the least. He is in no mood to be pushed around further. Even if Sherlock has a valid point. ]

Am I?

[Sherlock shakes the distilled water bottle a bit before he squeezes it and sends a steady stream of water into the wound.]

I guess that means you don't want me to warn you about what I'm doing.

[It doesn't matter much on his end since he isn't the one that will need to brace himself for the onslaught of pain. All of this is his way of trying to be gentle and caring, but it's discouraging with a grumpy patient.]

Your drink's right there. Feel free to take it up any time.

I don't want it!

[ John yells it as a means of dealing with the pain of the wound being flushed out and cleaned. His eyes squeeze tight enough tears come out. He's trembling after, panting at staring up at the ceiling, not bothering to wipe at his eyes. ]

Then don't drink it.

[Sherlock grits his teeth a bit while he's working. It's easy enough to flush his own wounds, but it's different doing it to someone else's.]

Do you have anything for the pain?

[He sets the distilled water down and scoots the glass of regular water to the edge of the table next to the pickled one.]

Local anaesthesia? I think the morphine I've got's been expired for three years.

If it's not here, how could I have it?

[ His words are slurred and he looks dazed. ]

Should've gone to hospital. But she's safer here.

[ Safer with Sherlock. He felt safer with him, too. ]

If you're not going to drink anything, keep your head down.

[Sherlock takes out his phone and sends a text to Molly telling her to bring by what he needs for an IV and some pain medication. He's sure to put it's for John because he doesn't need her thinking he's drug seeking. He also adds in that it's an emergency situation.

When he's finished, he sets his phone down to the side and picks up the bag of cotton swabs. He saturates them with the rubbing alcohol and moves closer to John again.]

This may hurt.

[He presses the saturated swabs on the skin around the wound first, but he eventually needs to clean the edges and that's when the alcohol will sting.]

Molly will be here soon with an IV. You're going to be alright, John.

[Whether he stays conscious for the whole procedure or not.]

[ John only lasts long enough to hear Sherlock say Molly would be coming with an IV. He doesn't even realize his eyes closed until the next time he opens them and he has said IV in him.

He looks at it with bleary eyes and then calls for Sherlock, voice rough and cracking, ]

Sherlock?

[Sherlock won't be far. In fact, he's in his bedroom with Mrs. Hudson talking in hushed voices. As soon as he hears John's voice, he rushes back to the main room to check on him.]

I'm here.

[He glances over him, figuring he's probably going to need to have a piss sooner rather than later now that he's hydrated. He hadn't thought to ask for a urinary catheter.]

Try not to sit up too fast. You're on a healthy dose of morphine.

[It's a relief that he's coming to so soon. It's only been three hours since he finished stitching him up with Molly's assistance.]

[ John doesn't even feel like he can move let alone sit up. ]

Are you alright?

Alice?

What? I'm fine...

[Sherlock's eyebrows pinch together when he tries to go through his mind looking for the name 'Alice', but it only lasts a few seconds before the realisation hits.]

Oh, the baby. She's fine. Wait here.

[He holds his hands up, then he turns back around. When he comes back, he'll be holding a clean looking baby wearing a cute pink and yellow onesie. He carries her over to the sofa and kneels down in front of it to be closer to John.]

Molly brought some supplies round after we finished patching you up.

[ He finally smiles at the sight of his daughter, all clean and snug in Sherlock's arms.

But his smile falters, his expression becoming more grim as he finally admits, ]

It was Mary. And David. They attacked me at the flat. Tried to kill me and take Alice with them.

[Sherlock had been unwilling to hold Alice the first two hours after he sewed John up, but since Mrs. Hudson handed her off to him, he hasn't really wanted to put her down.]

Mary and David... did they say anything to you during all of that?

[He'll need to contact his brother with the information... well, chances are Mycroft already knows the details. But he'll do it just in case.]

[ John slowly shakes his head, ]

I tried to get answers, asked 'why'. They never said anything.

[ He reaches out to caress the baby's cheek as she continued to nod off, sucking on a pacifier. ]

She likes you. Normally, she squirms when other people hold her.

She likes Mrs. Hudson, too.

[Sherlock looks down at the baby for a second, then he looks back at John.]

Or maybe she could just tell that mummy and her ex-boyfriend were going to betray daddy.

[He wants to know why. After everything they've been through, why would Mary do this? Does it have something to do with Moriarty re-emerging?]

I'll solve it, John.

[ John can feel his eyes watering again and he will later blame it on the pain meds and wonky mental state he is in. ]

Why did you make me go back to her, Sherlock?

[Sherlock frowns when John asks him, then he adjusts the way he's crouching down so Alice is facing her father.]

Look at me, John. No. Look at your daughter.

[He'll let him do as he asks.]

If you hadn't gone back to Mary, where would Alice be now?

[Really, he'd assumed that Mary was telling the truth about changing her ways and giving up her past. Then again, Sherlock could never tell when Mary was lying, yet Mary seemed to always be able to tell with him.]

[ John does look at her for a long moment before looking back up Sherlock. ]

And you think her being born into this kind of life is better?

You tell me.

[Sherlock presses the baby back to his shoulder so she can rest more comfortably.]

Mrs. Hudson's good with children.

No, I'm asking you. You always have an answer.

[ He watches as Alice seems to nuzzle into Sherlock's shoulder once she's back there. ]

What about you?

[Sherlock stares at John for several seconds. He's already got himself attached to the baby, but he doesn't want him to know about it.]

It should be fine. Can't be all that different than raising a dog.

[He gives her back a gentle pat when he says it.]

She can sleep upstairs in your room and Mrs. Hudson can take care of her when we're working.

... did you just compare my daughter to a dog?

[ Because really, Sherlock. ]

What?

[Sherlock just smiles at John. Alice doesn't seem to mind the comparison.]

I like dogs.

[ John stares at Sherlock before sighing tiredly, turning his head away. ]

I am far too lightheaded to argue with you right now.

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