Here's the first chapter after tranquil. I enjoy writing this story and will hopefully upload more chapters within the week. Please tell me if I got the characters right or completely messed up. Again I do not own Sherlock (Even though I wish I did). Happy reading. Please review, I'd like to hear what you think.
Hospital Nightmares: 19-20/02/10
John Watson stood at the opposite end of the bed to which the unconscious Sherlock laid. He looked almost dead but his pale skin would probably deceive you into thinking that. A nurse had walked into the ward.
"Um, excuse me." John whispered, so that he didn't disturb the other patients that were asleep.
"Yes. How can I help?" The nurse replied back in the same level of volume.
"Will he be alright? No one has told me anything yet. He will live won't he?" John was getting very concerned.
"Yes. He will be fine. There was an infection inside the tranquilliser as your friend expected, but it's nothing our doctors can't handle. If you hadn't have brought him here, he would have probably been dead within the next three days."
"When do you think he will wake up?"
"He should still be out for the next..." She looked at her watch. "Thirteen, fourteen hours." She finished off with a smile.
"Yes well you should treasure that time well. And might I suggest that it may be safer if you put him in a room of his own."
"Dr Watson, I assure you, no one is going to break into the hospital and try to kill him."
"It's not people from outside that I'm worried about; it's the ones on the inside. He um... he can easily make enemies out of people that he doesn't even know yet. Just a word of advice for when he gets too much to handle. Oh, and by the way, I know it's a lot of information to take in but please do keep an eye on him when he's awake, as a friend of his I do feel that he may try to escape. He gets bored easily. And keep him away from anything electrical that he doesn't need, he will try to do experiments. They don't always end well. Good luck. And thanks for everything." John explained as much as he knew about Sherlock and his habits of keeping his boredom away. As John walked towards the door the nurse just stood there with an apprehensive smile, she turned to look at the man lying peacefully in bed then shook her head in disbelief and walked calmly out of the ward.
Although Sherlock seamed at rest in his sleep, he really wasn't. Deep in the unusual cleverness of his mind bad dreams were occurring. They each individually had enemies of Sherlock's which were sent out to kill him; every dream involved him running for his life. But in this very one Sherlock was at home sat down in a chair, but he couldn't move due to the fact that his arms and legs were tied to it. John Watson was standing, looking out of the window. But there was nobody else in the room with them.
"Sherlock, you do realise that I don't want to kill you now. I do much prefer slow and painful. Like everybody else who has the time to do so." John had a fly land on his face so he swiped at it and scratched.
"John, why are you doing this to me? I thought that you told me we were friends." Sherlock insisted innocently.
"No Sherlock, we are sworn enemies. And we have been for years on end." John turned to face Sherlock, who wasn't even struggling to escape; he just sat there with a casual expression on his face. Sherlock watched Johns every move, never taking his eyes off him.
"Now then, tell me, when were you planning on informing me that you are in fact not John? But you are just the pathetic little man called Edgar! Who clearly thinks he is clever but not smart enough for me."
"I AM NOT PATHETIC!" Edgar, who was recently disguised as John but had somehow turned back to his normal self in that incredibly short space of time, hit Sherlock around the face with the back of his hand. To which Sherlock reacted to, his cheek went bright pink. "Why put such talent to waste, boy?" Edgar began circling Sherlock and focusing on his prisoners emotions and physicality's that caught his attention most. "Tell me then, how'd you know?"
"Well you had me going for a while, but as you were blatantly tying my right wrist to the arm of the chair, I noticed your watch." Sherlock said smugly.
"Yes, your watch. You see John wears it on the Left arm, not the right. And as you were doing my feet, I saw the faintest of lines on the back of your neck, just to show where the wig finished off. Also when you were looking out of the window I noticed that in your reflection you scratched your face but along with your fingers came a lot more wrinkled skin. Now I don't really think that was real skin if it wrinkles up like that. Did you think this plan through completely?"
"Oh it did work, enough of it happened to get you where I wanted you. You're mine now Sherlock. Try not to scream. Don't want to disturb the neighbours." Edgar lunged forward at the defenceless Sherlock.
And then it happened.
"NO!" Sherlock sat bolt upright in his hospital bed and placed a hand on the side of his head and wiped some of his hair that went all over his face with his hand. Everybody in the ward jumped out of their skins and turned to face what all the fuss was about. A nurse ran into the ward to see who was making the noise. She ran to Sherlock's side, whose hand was now resting on the back of his head.
"Mr Holmes, are you alright? Are you in pain? Do you need anything?"
"It was just a dream." He fell back into the pillows. He wiped the sleep from his eyes with both hands, which travelled down his face and placed them by his sides. "No, I don't need anything thank you. But... how long have I been asleep?"
"I'd say more than a day and a half, Mr Holmes." The nurse replied back. She was the same nurse that John Watson was talking to.
"What did he say to you?" Sherlock asked with a straight face.
"I'm sorry sir, who?"
"John Watson. My friend, colleague. He told you things about me."
"How could you possibly know that?" She seemed confused and scared at the same time.
"Well for starters, that's just him. Also you're acting cautious around me as if someone has told you something which is a lot of information to handle. Now then it was either my brother or John, but unlike John, my brother would prefer to see me when I am awake. So therefore it must be John Watson, now stop wasting my time with stupid questions and tell me what he said!"
"Just to keep an eye on you, he said that you may make a run for it if you get too bored, and also to keep you away from any electrical items that you don't really need."
"Did he say by any chance that you should put me in a room of my own?"
"Yes, he did. But only if you get to the point where the people in here want to kill you. I doubt that will happen though, sir." the nurse assured him and she left the ward leaving Sherlock in a room full of people he didn't even know. He looked down to the side of the bed to find a teddy bear and a vase full of flowers for him there were a couple of balloons saying 'Get well soon' on them. He moved his hands to push himself up so he was sat upright and leant forward to see who they were from and as he probably guessed, they were from Molly Hooper. He also had two cards standing on the bedside table, one from Molly and the other from a person called Anonymous. Sherlock picked up the card and opened it to find an unusual greeting.
It has come to my attention that I should inform you of this note in advance. I know you will not sit around all day in the hospital, and that you will break loose from here. Keep this for the days to come.
Love, Anonymous XxXx
There were a series of letters and numbers that went like, A=1 B=2 C=3 and so on, but they were all in different colours. Sherlock looked at the card in confusion. He could clearly see that it was the same Anonymous person from his blog, 'The science of deduction', or it was just someone who wanted him to think that. But what was he to do now? The person seemed as though they were waiting to get at him for something. But they were right; Sherlock wasn't planning on staying there forever, let alone a day. He had to leave tonight. But he still had at least five hours to kill before all of the lights went out, he would never last five hours in the hell hole that people call a hospital. Sherlock fell back into his bed looking at the card. It was a light blue with a vase on the front and a message saying 'Get well soon' above. It wasn't suspicious in any way, until you opened it up. There was a woman sitting in a bed opposite to him, you could tell that she had taken a fancy to Sherlock, as she was grooming her hair, hoping that he would notice her. She looked about the same age as Sherlock, she had mid-length blonde hair which she was constantly stroking, and in other words she didn't interest Sherlock one bit.
"What's your name?" Sherlock asked not looking at her.
"Who me?" She asked excitedly.
"No, the person in bed next to me who is asleep. Yes you!"
"Oh, my name's Amber, Amber Talis."
"Well then Amber. Could you do me a favour?"
"Stop stroking your hair, it's a terrible way to flirt. And you might as well not try any other way of flirting with me. I will not go for you."Sherlock explained in a very casual way.
"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't know you were married."
"Oh, I'm not." Sherlock said, still not looking at her or wondering why she thought he was married in the first place. But now Amber was confused, then a thought popped into her head which depressed her, she was about to talk when Sherlock suddenly answered her thought. "And before you ask, I'm not gay."
"Well I've told you my name. So you might as well tell me yours!" She was getting annoyed at Sherlock now within the few seconds of dialogue she had known him. This is proof of how people don't get along well with him.
"The name is Sherlock Holmes. Don't wear it out." Sherlock still didn't look at Amber, but the fact that he had just said all of that without looking her, made Amber incredibly irritated. "Amber, there really is no need to get all annoyed at me. You will never see me again after tonight. I promise you." Sherlock finally looked at the woman he was talking to, her expression lit up on her face.
"Your eyes are so beautiful; I never saw them when you were asleep." Amber was now at the end of the bed and she was still trying to flirt with Sherlock.
"Amber, please don't, how did you get there so quickly? And, you watched me when I was sleeping?" Sherlock was scared now.
"No! I mean. Yes. I was just wondering when you would wake up. You were the only one my age, I thought you would be easier to talk to. But I guess I was wrong."
"Amber? Did you see the person who brought this?" Sherlock handed her the anonymous card.
"Yes and no. I couldn't really see his face, but he was tall and-"
"Yes, it was a man. He didn't have a woman's figure, and that is what a man looks like. But he was not very tall and sort of thin, I think he was gay."
"He's not gay, just a very good actor. When did he appear?" Sherlock felt as though he was getting on to his mystery stalker even though he knew who it was, this was just the evidence that had been left out between the introduction and the conclusion.
"He came about an hour before you woke up. Why?"
"Moriarty, definitely." Sherlock whispered the single word, his voice was cold.
"What did you say?" Amber tone of voice was apprehensive.
"I'm sorry what?" Sherlock said drifting away from the conversation.
"You said something -arty. What does that mean?"
"Moriarty. He's a-" Sherlock was suddenly rudely interrupted by an older male figure.
"I'm sorry my dear but can I pinch this young man for a second?"Mycroft had walked into the ward, surprisingly on his own.
"Young man? That's a new one." Sherlock wasn't impressed to see him. "Oh, and you do know how rude it is to intervene in a conversation."
"Aren't you with the government?" Amber asked.
"Yes, heard of me? It's Mycroft by the way."
"You are disgusting, Mycroft. She's at least ten years younger than you! My age! Why does everybody bloody flirt these days?" Sherlock shook his head in disgust.
"Excuse us." Mycroft smiled at Amber and then closed the curtain to Sherlock's bed. He turned to face him but Sherlock wouldn't return a glance. "You were very stubborn when you were young. You're just as stubborn now."
"Brilliant minds never change." Sherlock finally looked up at Mycroft, but he wasn't impressed. "What are you doing here anyway?"
"I just came like any other brother would do to comfort their bedridden family."
"Yes, thank you for that. But you don't have any need to stay. Now what else do you want?"
"Nothing, nothing. Well there is one thing. I don't want you to get into any trouble while you are here. There are a few of my men downstairs looking out for anyone suspicious that comes by. If it was a gun that got you in here, it may be a gun that gets you out."
"Like that's going to scare me. Bye, bye, Mycroft. Don't come back soon!" Sherlock did a pathetic wave and cheap smile, and then rolled his eyes as soon as Mycroft had turned his back, drawn back the curtain and walked out of the ward shaking his head.
"You'll regret this Sherlock! Call me if you need me!" Mycroft said without turning his back.
"Like I'll need you." Sherlock muttered under his breath.
"I couldn't help but listen, but... Is he your brother?" Amber was now stood at the side of Sherlock's bed, and she looked interested.
"Yes, and do you have to stand so close? I mean spacial awareness, please."
"Oh, yes, of course. Sorry about that." She took a step back but Sherlock insisted on going further back until she reached her bed.
"Now if you get on the bed or even in it, you'll be the correct distance that I like for my comfort."
"It's time for lunch now so I might as well sit in bed."
"Tell me Amber. Why are you here?" Sherlock had been talking to her all this time but never asked why she was here.
"I'd not like to talk about that."
"I'm sorry for your loss."
"Loss? You don't know the meaning of loss!"
"You don't have the right to say that to me. YOU DON'T KNOW WHO I'VE LOST IN MY LIFE! IN FACT YOU DON'T KNOW ANYTHING ABOUT ME APART FROM MY NAME AND MY BROTHER'S!" Sherlock cried out. There was silence in the room when the lunches were passed around. Sherlock and Amber stared at each other with hatred in their eyes for hours on end; Dinner was passed around at six o'clock. Then eventually, Amber gave in to the silence.
"It was my younger brother." Amber revealed which made Sherlock suddenly look interested. "I loved him with all my heart. We were going on a camping trip to meet some mates. He hadn't learnt to drive yet so I was the one who drove us there. And as we were halfway there-" Amber broke off, a single tear rolled down her cheek. "A deer ran out onto the road. I swerved the car but then it crashed into a tree. It crushed Danny to death, and I had to watch it happen. I killed my own brother. It's all my fault." A flood of tears were streaming down her face. Sherlock had made a person cry, by not using an offensive comment. When Amber got a grip she finally asked Sherlock the same question. "So, what's someone like you doing in a place like this?" She managed a smile.
"I got shot."
"Oh my God! Where? If it's suitable enough to show me."
"It wasn't that sort of shot. I mean it was a tranquilliser gun. But it was infected. Seems to me that the man who did it wished to kill me nice and slow. Don't ask me why I said nice." Sherlock finally took notice to the food he had on his dinner tray, it would have been clap-cold by now and, to be honest, it stank. "What is this?" Sherlock asked the person next to him.
"Food." They replied back with a mouthful of their lunch.
"Yes, I know that! But it's a pathetic excuse for food. I'm going out." Sherlock threw the covers off to find himself in a hospital patient's outfit, he sighed.
"Have you ever been in a hospital before? It's just you seem agitated by it."
"Of course! This is my millionth time in a hospital. Where do you get decent food from around here anyway?" Sherlock started to get out of bed but found it almost impossible, after his long two days. His legs were straining to keep him upright. A nurse had walked into the ward at this very moment, as usual; it was the same nurse as before. She saw Sherlock and dashed over to him.
"Mr Holmes, would you please sit down and eat your dinner." The nurse insisted trying to put him back into bed but he wouldn't go. His legs had strengthened up now and he wasn't going to give up that easily. "MR HOLMES! PLEASE, SIT DOWN!" She yelled. Sherlock was thrown down in the chair next to the bed by the nurse; he folded his arms in a huff and looked away.
"Thank you." She turned away. "Are you going to eat this? Because I'm cleaning it up now."
"No." Sherlock said the one word with such venom the nurse had to calm herself down before she got too annoyed. As soon as she started to go to the other patients, Sherlock slowly got up. He grabbed his coat from the chair and then his other clothes from the top of a table and went into the disabled toilets. After about five minutes he came out a new man. Fully clothed in his black suit with a white shirt, he put his coat on and looked for the nurse, she was still in the ward talking to one of the patients, it was Amber. Amber spotted Sherlock, and she smiled then mouthed the word 'go'. The nurse didn't notice what she did even though it was very prominent. Sherlock smiled back at her slightly, and then went back into action. He headed for the lift then he remembered Mycroft's men at the bottom, it also applied to the stairs. He needed an emergency exit, but where? Sherlock looked all around him for a sign, and there it was. His sign of freedom. It took him a while to find the very end and to get there; he was dodging in and out of people sneaking into places where he shouldn't have been. With one last look around to see if anybody was there, he didn't care about the security cameras they would never be able to follow him around London. As soon as he was about to open the door a voice shouted to him. It was a man this time so he wouldn't be recognised, hopefully.
"Turn around. I am a doctor. There's no need to feel threatened or anything." The man said calmly. But Sherlock recognised something in the voice. He slowly started pushing the door open without turning around. "I don't think that you want to do something like that, you know you won't be leaving without this."
"How did you know where to find me?"
"Does that need answering, Sherlock?"
"Maybe so, John. What have you got?" Sherlock turned around to look at what John was holding; he had a laptop inside a case and the card given to him by anonymous. "Why do I need all of this?"Sherlock continued.
"To keep in touch. And I've given you a bit of cash in case you need something to eat or drink. I threw in a few nicotine patches, can't have you wasting the money on cigarettes. Don't come back to the flat yet, Sherlock. It's still not safe. There's Mycroft who keeps on hanging around." John was being serious about all of this. He handed everything to Sherlock and gave a weak smile.
"Thank you, John. You don't know what this means to me." Sherlock gave a small smile, put the Laptop strap over his head so that it crossed over his body and left out of the emergency exit without a moment's hesitation. Leaving John standing there wondering what to do next.