smallhobbit | Enter Big Brother

Fandom: Sherlock BBC
Characters: John Watson, Sherlock Holmes, Molly Hooper, Greg Lestrade
Rating: PG
Word Count: 720
Prompt: Illness
Notes: Written rapidly for the thirteenth day of the July Writing Prompts on

watsons_woes

Follows on directly from The Long Jump

To Molly’s relief when she looked down the lane she saw a police car approaching, followed by a large black car. She ran to wave down the police car and once it stopped she showed the officers where John and Greg were sitting, still propped up against the tree.

Meanwhile Mycroft got out of the black car and waited whilst Molly explained briefly what had happened to them. Then he said, “Could you tell me where my brother is, Ms Hooper?”

“He leapt over the drainage ditch and fell into the secondary ditch.” She tried very hard not to smile at the memory of Sherlock’s sudden disappearance from sight.

“Sherlock never did learn the value of looking before you leap.” Mycroft started to laugh.

“Shut up, Mycroft, and get me out of here!”

“Patience, little brother. This must be done properly. I would hate to think that someone would fall on top of you.”

Mycroft ignored Sherlock’s remark that if it were Mycroft he would be utterly squashed and went to ensure that Molly was able to accompany John and Greg on their way to hospital.

The men under Mycroft’s command soon had some planks across the ditches and whilst they made preparations to immobilise Sherlock’s ankle and lift him out of his ditch, Mycroft stood on one of the planks and told his brother that the gang had been apprehended and he was hopeful of shortly obtaining some useful information from them; however Moran had evaded capture. Mycroft wasn’t sure whether Sherlock’s groan was in response to this piece of information or in pain as he was moved onto a stretcher. He waved farewell as they took Sherlock away to have his ankle x-rayed.

*****

That evening Mycroft heard Sherlock’s arrival before he saw him.

“I don’t need to be in a wheelchair. I am quite able to walk if you let me. And I would if you hadn’t tied me into the chair.”

As Mycroft appeared in the hallway the tirade continued. “I told them to take me to Baker Street. It’s only a sprain, not a break and John can take care of me for a few days. So I fail to understand why they have insisted on bringing me to your house.”

Sherlock banged on the armrests of his wheelchair and Mycroft was reminded of the times when as a toddler Sherlock had thrown a tantrum. On those occasions Nanny had left him strapped in his pushchair until he calmed down. He would usually escape, but he quickly learnt that he needed to control his temper sufficiently to undo the buckles, which achieved Nanny’s desired result anyway.

However this time Mycroft did not feel he could apply the same principle. He was sure that Sherlock would quickly work out how to untie himself; but the subsequent stomping off would do the ankle no good.

“Unfortunately, Dr Watson is in no condition to take care of you. Whilst he seems to be over the worst effects of the concussion, today has taken its toll on him. You are aware that it is not that long since he recovered from the pneumonia your bacterial experiments caused and it is important that he has sufficient rest. Since I am equally aware that he will not be permitted that rest if he returns to Baker Street, I have taken the decision that both he and you will reside in my house until such time as you are both properly recovered. I am sure you understand that the speediest way to achieve your return home is by completely complying with medical instructions.”

Sherlock glared at Mycroft, but was apparently unable to find a suitable reply. Mycroft pushed him into the sitting room. Once there he could see John curled up on the settee, looking very pale, but at least sleeping peacefully.

“And what are you doing here?” Sherlock had spotted Greg sitting in one of the chairs.

“One of the bones in my arm is broken, so your brother was kind enough to say that as he had two invalids staying here, he might as well have a third.”

“Grandmama always used to talk about having wounded officers in the house during the war,” Mycroft said. “I thought it would be interesting to see what it would have been like.”