Sherlock & Sebastian (violent)

Sherlock staggered back and into the fireplace. He looked down at himself and saw his shirt was covered with blood. He didn't look too great but then, neither was the other guy.

As he grabbed hold of the mantlepiece to steady himself, his hand fell upon his trusty skull. Keeping his eyes trained on Sebastian, he took the skull into his hand and quickly whipped it round, whacking it hard into the side of his head. Sebastian fell to the floor with a bang.

Sherlock creeped up and leaned over him. His eyes were closed. He crouched down and felt for a pulse. Still alive. Standing up again, Sherlock grabbed his coat and headed out to the hospital.



(( Sorry to knock you out lol, but I had to move the story forward a bit, we did do A LOT of fighting. Sherlock will go to the hospital and have a couple of scenes with John, then I guess Seb will wake up in Baker Street and possibly want revenge on Sherlock and John...so you should think of something and then catch up with us later, maybe even at the hospital for a good change of location. ))

((Oh my xD I actually can't stop laughing. That's hilarious. We'll need our John back at this point and I can just wait a while before Sebastian wakes up. I'll try and think of something in the meantime.))

(( I know right...just had to use the skull...hilarious. ))


Outside on Baker Street, Sherlock had a hard time hailing a cab whilst covered in blood. Everytime one slowed down to stop, they'd take off again as soon as they saw the state he was in. Cursing he limped towards the tube station.

Half an hour later after a nightmare tube ride during which everyone stared at him with looks of horror on their face, Sherlock finally arrived at St Barts. He headed straight for the reception desk.

"The name's Sherlock Holmes. I'm here to see John Watson. Could you tell me what ward he's in?" The receptionist looked him up and down questioningly.
"You look as if you could do with a bed yourself." Sherlock grinned sarcastically at her.
"Just the ward number please."
She pointed. "First right, second left. Ward 6."
"Thank you."

John had been into surgery for one hour, before the doctors decided to stitch him up again. There had been a bloody mess to patch up, but he seemed to be stable enough to make it.
Now he just had to wake up.

He was moved to a single room, courtesy of old friends he still had there, and he laid unconscious in a white bed, with a cute nurse coming to check on him every now and then, hoping he would wake up soon.

Sherlock walked through Ward 6 and spotted John's room right away - unable to miss the words "Watson, J", written outside on a small whiteboard. He slowly opened the door, peering in. John was asleep. He let himself in and quietly closed the door behind him, pulling up a chair to sit by his friend's bedside.

He checked his watch. Well, he would just have to wait until John woke up. Everything else was on hold. Not that he actually had anything else to do anyway. He took out his phone and switched it off, just in case anyone tried to call. He really didn't want to be disturbed right now. Even if the most thrilling murder in the world had just taken place, there was no point trying to solve any crimes without his trusty blogger. Sherlock sighed, realising just how much he needed and relied on John these days.

It was only once he'd finally sat down properly and started to rest did he become aware of the excruciating pain he was actually in. There was a mirror on the other side of the bed and he looked at himself in it. His face was a real mess and blood everywhere, all down his shirt, on his hands, and his knuckles sore and cut from all the punching he'd been doing. Well, he was in the perfect place. He decided that when the nurse next came in to check on John, he'd ask if they could do a basic patch up job on him. He just hated people fussing.

When the pretty nurse came back to check on the handsome doctor, he found Sherlock in the room, she shrieked, scared. "Are you okay?" she asked worriedly after she realized it was not an angry ghost, blood seemed to be all over the man, so he had to be hurt.

She looked at John, who was still asleep. "He hasn't woken up yet, we don't know about permanent damages," she muttered, realizing the man sitting there had to be a friend if he had sneaked in here.

"Are you a friend? You should get a doctor to look at you... I don't think John would be happy to see you this way if he woke up now..."

Sherlock realised his appearance was frightening the nurse. He tried to offer her a friendly smile but his teeth were covered with blood and it probably looked quite ghastly.

He nodded, "I'm sure a plaster wouldn't go amiss...if it's not too much trouble." It was difficult and painful to talk with his swollen up tongue but the nurse smiled and a few minutes later came back to clean his wounds and patch him up. All the while Sherlock kept his eyes on John, anxious for his friend to wake up.

John had no idea how long he had been gone when he actually came to. His mind was fuzzy, his whole body sore, and he had the vague feeling he shouldn't move at all if he didn't want to pass out again.

He remembered then that Sherlock had been left with Sebastian Moran, that he hadn't followed him in the ambulance and panic rose in his chest.
"Sher-" he groaned, unable to sit up, laying back on the bed with the hand of a pretty nurse keeping him still.
"Take it easy, John," she said with a smile, and only then he realized he was not alone in the room.

Sherlock's heart beat a little faster when he noticed John was coming to. He was feeling a lot better himself now he'd been patched up a bit. He leaned forward in his seat and grabbed John's hand.

"John....you OK?" he asked softly.

John felt the warmth on his hand, the familiar voice, and he looked down to find Sherlock's battered face. He was injured and bruised, but he seemed to be very much alive. It was a relief, but also a reminded of the horrible job he had done with Sebastian.

"Who are you?" he asked, teasing as he turned his hand around and fingers instinctively wrapped around Sherlock's.

For a moment Sherlock's heart leapt in his chest as he genuinely believed John might have some kind of memory loss. Then he saw the familiar glint in his eye and hit him on his arm playfully, grinning.

"Good to see you still have your humour anyway..." he squeezed John's hand a little then let go and stood up. "Have they said what's wrong with you yet?" He leaned over and grabbed John's chart but it was just graphs and numbers, didn't really make much sense. He showed it to John with a quizzical expression.

((Amnesia should be a theme for another RP by the way))

John frowned when he felt Sherlock's touch move away, he missed it now, as improper as he knew it was. He didn't like his thoughts, he didn't like his feelings in that moment. They made him feel so lonely.

"If you didn't notice, Sherlock, I just woke up... maybe if you hand me the chart, I will be able to tell you a bit more..." he commented, holding his hand out, but it fell on the bed, he was too weak. "Damn..."

He took in a deep breath, "Where did the pretty nurse go?" he asked, looking at the door, he was sure she was there a few moments before.

Sherlock was surprised and rather upset to see his friend so weak. He was normally so strong and unbeatable. It made him feel....strange.

"It's OK John," he reassured him with a pat on the hand, before holding the chart in front of his face. "I'll hold it up for you..."

"Pretty nurse?" he scoffed and glanced around. "She must have gone out. What was so pretty about her anyway? Looked fairly ordinary to me."

John frowned at his weakness, but he looked at the chart and paled considerably. There was something about reading of his own condition that felt terribly wrong.
"I am fine... they will probably discharge me in a few days," he lied, there was no point in worrying Sherlock any way.

He looked at the door again. "She fancies me, she always comes around when I visit Mike... she has nice grey eyes," he commented, with a very small shrug, he felt so bloody weak.

"Good," Sherlock replied, snatching the chart out of John's hands and returning it to the stand above the bed. "I need you back at Baker Street."

But Sherlock had seen the look in his friend's eyes and he knew there was something he wasn't telling him. He decided not to push it for now, and instead tried changing the subject.

"Um...is there...anything I can get you at all?" he asked with a friendly smile. His eyes darted out into the corridor as he spoke. He needed to grab a nurse and find out what was wrong with John.

John ignored Sherlock's question, he knew the man wanted to gather information behind his back. He wished he was a better actor sometimes, Sherlock was always able to read through him.

"What happened with Moran? You don't look too good..." he said, his eyes moving over the bruises he could see. "Did you kill him?" he asked, his voice dropping lower.



((Want to do a reversed Alone on the water? XDDD jk XD where did you plan to go with this? Should we make John seriously sick? Or just, staying in the hospital longer than expected? Dark Sherlock was sexy btw >> John thought so >> ))

(( You've insinuated that John's pretty ill. I'm not sure what kind of serious internal injuries you can get as the result of fighting so maybe a bit of quick research required. Please don't make me cry too much! Whatever happens it will make Sherlock very angry and he'll want revenge on Sebastian in a sick and evil way. ))


Sherlock turned his eyes back from the corridor, mildly annoyed that John had ignored him. He looked at the cuts and bruises that were all over him, his bloodstained shirt. He did kind of look a mess. He idly rubbed at a stain on his cuff.

"No, he's not dead," he replied slowly. "Not yet. We had a fight. A rather fun one actually. But I swore I'd kill him if anything were to happen to you."

John grimaced at the word fun, he didn't particularly find it fun, looking at Sebastian he had had a clear view of what he could be at the moment had Sherlock not come back to him. The rest of the words took him by surprise, his eyes moving on Sherlock's face.

"Why?" he heard his voice ask. "Why would you do that?" he wondered surprised, Sherlock had never seemed like the guy who would give in to feelings such as those leading to revenge. Wasn't that too emotional for him?



((Well, it doesn't have to be caused by the fight, it could be that when they opened him up to fix the bleeding they found something else >> or that the organ that was bleeding is in a bad shape and needs a transplant and/or dialyses. But it doesn't have to be that serious, John could just be hiding that he needs to stay longer in the hospital, and doesn't say it because he doesn't want to worry Sherlock, you know because of Sherlock being a bit obsessive about things and all...))

"Why?" Sherlock repeated. "Why...well...because...because you're my friend. And...and I won't let anyone hurt you. Ever."

Sherlock got to his feet, uncomfortable with the level of emotion he'd just expressed. He felt exposed and weak. He walked towards the window and stared out onto the traffic below. He decided to deal with his feelings by turning them back on John.

"Tell me what's really wrong with you," he suddenly demanded. "You know you can't hide it from me, I'll just go out and ask the Nurse. And don't say they won't tell me because I'm not a relative because I already told them we were married which is probably the reason the pretty nurse is no longer interested in you."


(( you can make it as dramatic as you like really...seeing as we know he's not going to die so whatever happens we'll have a happy ending!! ))

John wanted to point out that people didn't avenge friends usually, they protected family, but were they family? Sherlock hardly cared for him, why would he go as far as killing someone for him?
"Nonsense, you don't need an excuse to go after Moran..."

His eyes snapped up when he heard the rest of the words, he wanted to say just that, that they wouldn't tell him anything, but of course Sherlock had thought ahead of that.
"You said /what/?" He exclaimed, his cheeks burning red, anger suddenly twisting his guts. "Sherlock, that's not fair, that's a breach of my privacy, how healthy I am is none of your business! And it's nothing to do with Moran anyway," he snapped, regretting his words as soon as they passed his lips.

((Do you have a preference? Do you want something life-threatening or just mildly serious, or a chronic condition?
"Sherlock, I am pregnant, it's yours" XD ))

"You're right. I don't need an excuse...I'd go after him anyway, but..." Sherlock trailed off the end of the sentence, feeling a blockage in his chest preventing him from saying any more words. He closed his eyes and breathed out slowly, temporarily flushing out his mind of thoughts and feelings, then he refocused his attention on the line of traffic outside the window.

Sherlock smirked at how angry John was when he found out what he'd told the nurses. He'd expected that reaction and enjoyed it immensely.

"It is my business," he interupted, "because I need you back at Baker Street as soon as possible. I've got a bunch of files we need to look through to find any clues about Moriarty's network and - " he stopped suddenly, as the rest of John's words processed in his mind. "Hang on...what do you mean it's nothing to do with Moran? If it's not the fighting injuries keeping you here then what?" Sherlock snapped his head away from the window and stared at John, frowning.


(( Oh God, can't decide....depends how angsty you want to get...I honestly don't mind either way because Sherlock is basically going to just freak out whatever it is and be all over-protective and crazy, and then probably go and take out all his frustrations by torturing Sebastian again. XD ))

((Sorry to butt in - John could have an infarction from the trauma - leading to him needing a kidney...that way Seb can get the arse kicked out of him still))

John laughed dryly, "Of course you need me for your files," he hissed sarcastic, he really didn't want to talk about work now, for God's sake, was that all Sherlock ever thought about?
He shook his head at himself, of course it was all Sherlock thought about, he knew that, he lived with the man and knew about his priorities.

He was tired though.
He relaxed back on the bed and closed his eyes. Sherlock was going to find out anyway, "My blood and urine tests have been off for a while, and now they are worse than ever, I am afraid you are going to have to find yourself a new blogger," he explained slowly.





((argh, too late for the infraction, John already implied it was a pre-existing condition... I would like to make it so that he kept it from Sherlock for a while >> thank you for your input though <3 do you think maybe it makes sense that his kidneys weren't working well, and the injury made it worse? So he needs dialysis and a transplant... If they find a donor ))

Sherlock moved from the window to hover over John's bedside, trying to digest the words. Blood and urine tests...new blogger....

"No..." he shook his head. "Tell me what's going on John? What do you mean? What is it?" He grabbed John's chart off the wall, but the numbers and abbreviations really meant nothing to him, just like a secret message he was yet to decipher.

"Kidneys..." he muttered, he had no intention of aggravating Sherlock further, but the man always wanted everything right away, he was never fast enough. "I've done a few dialysis in the last six months... I was put on the transplant list after last time..."

His fingers motioned to the chart in Sherlock's hand, even though he was moving as little as possible. "I imagine the trauma... made things worse..." And he needed a transplant now, as soon as possible if he wanted to survive. He was surprised they hadn't started a new dialysis already. Maybe he wasn't as badly off as he thought.