For John Watson

[howdull]

[Sherlock is still finding pieces of the melted laptop in the carpet.

It had actually been quite an ingenious booby trap to be devised by a fourteen year old boy with only household chemicals to work with but, as Sherlock surmised, rather overkill to keep his mother from finding his extensive porn collection. Not one of their more illustrious cases, but it had been quite entertaining to watch both the boy and mother's faces as he revealed that he did know the how and why. He lost interest after the mother started shouting and John started shouting and the whole thing turned tedious.

He rather thinks John won't actually be doing a full write-up of this one on his blog.

It's been two days since their last case and he's beginning to get more than a little antsy. Lestrade has sent him nothing, just a boring hit and run that he refused to even leave the flat for, and nobody interesting has appeared through the blog. Said blog he is currently scrolling through on John's laptop, having borrowed it again.

He did ask, it's not his fault John hadn't been in the room at the time.]

Bored, John.

[He doesn't even know if his flatmate is even in, but that's hardly a necessity for him to actually speak to John. Frustrated, he throws the laptop across the room to hit the wall, where it summarily breaks. Which is where he can be found whenever John appears, sulking amidst pieces of laptop, both from the melted one of their last case and John's poor broken one.]

Comments

[gallowshumour]

[Unlike with the other two, Molly's response comes almost immediately. She's been playing with her phone most of the day, turning it on and off to make sure there's been no missed messages, so to get one is a relief. Not that she's worried about these stupid boys or anything.]

I've been thinking maybe I could come and help you? I have some portable equipment that I could bring to Sherlock's flat in case any testing needed to be done, and I don't mind sleeping on the sofa.

[She wants to help.

Not just because she worries about them, but because she feels intensely sick with guilt. She's the one Jim used to get to them, she's the one that might have inadvertently provided the information that could have got Harry killed or the flat bombed. Which makes this partly her fault, and she's desperate to do anything she can to try and fix what can be fixed.]

[jumpthegun]

[John sighs as he stops just short of the guarded gate. If Molly is offering... and this would ensure she's not around for Jim or Caroline to grab. But it's asking so much of her.]

Yeah, that could work. I'm not sure when Sherlock's going to be back there, and I'm hitchhiking back into the city, so it'll be a while before either of us are around, I'm afraid.

[gallowshumour]

Do you need to hitchhike back? Is it too dangerous for me to offer a lift?

[She wants to help, but she doesn't want to push herself in where she's not wanted. Maybe John thinks she's being followed or monitored and doesn't want her around.]

[jumpthegun]

It's not too dangerous, but it's a long drive, Molly. It took us three hours just to get out here.

[For a meeting that he spent more time waiting for than actually being a part of. It'll be midnight by the time they're back. Midnight. On Wednesday. God damn it!

John hastily texts Sarah. At least that's one number he memorized.]

TO: SARAH SAWYER
FROM: JOHN WATSON

I'm sorry I wasn't at the clinic today. I was summoned to a hearing at the local Army base.
-John

[gallowshumour]

FROM: MOLLY HOOPER
TO: JOHN WATSON
Text me the address, I'm on my way.

[She'll ask why Sherlock isn't there and can't get them a taxi later, for now she's already heading for her car. Sarah's reply comes in almost on top of Molly's, she's obviously also been pretty near her phone all day.]

FROM: SARAH SAWYER
TO: JOHN WATSON
Forget it, I'm fed up of your excuses. Don't come back to the clinic, I'll post you a reference if you need one, but that's it. I'm done, John.

[jumpthegun]

[John texts Molly the address along with instructions to call or text him when she's getting close. When Sarah's text comes in, he just stares at it for a long moment. A part of him is relieved. If she has no connection to him, if she hates him, then maybe she'll be safe. But it's not as though he'd been terribly close to Harry anymore and she was still targeted.]

TO: SARAH SAWYER
FROM: JOHN WATSON
Okay. Please stay safe, Sarah. Make sure you're with someone for the next while. Friends or family. Goodbye.

[He hits send as he steps back into the reception area and goes to sit down. John sets his phone in his lap and just lets his head hang for a long few moments. His body hurts again from standing to attention and sitting in an uncomfortable chair. It does occur that this is a base and he's not technically disgraced, yet.]

I beg your pardon, but is there a hospital on-base or any kind of medical unit that I could access as a veteran while I'm here?

[gallowshumour]

[The receptionist's brow furrows in mild concern as she looks him up and down, he does look a little ragged.]

Can I ask what the problem is? I might be able to get you in to see the on-call doctor here, but if it's something serious then I'll need to call an ambulance.

[jumpthegun]

No ambulance! [It's said too quickly, and John dials back.] I just have some broken ribs... and a few burns. I wasn't expecting to get stranded here without medication for so long. [He really should have his burns tended to again after the shower. John imagines they don't look bad enough for someone to want to hospitalize him now. He hopes they don't look bad enough.]

[gallowshumour]

[Her eyebrows raise, but she's not about to call an ambulance out here for no reason. Odd that he looks so concerned about it.]

I'll ring through to the medical barracks and see if anyone can see you.

[jumpthegun]

I really appreciate that. Thanks so much. [A pause as he considers the last time he called out for assistance. What if they send one of Jim and Caroline's people?] Ah... any chance you can not tell them exactly who it's for when you're asking for help?

[gallowshumour]

No, I can't do that, your name would need to be filed in our records and they have to be able to access your current NHS patient records to treat you.

[What a weird request.]

Do you still want me to call them, or not?

[jumpthegun]

[John glances off to the side, weighing the options and trying to tamp down on his paranoia. He just needs medication. He knows what pain meds look like, even if they try to trick him.]

Yes, please, that's fine.

[He goes to sit and wait like a good soldier for the doctor to arrive. Just his luck, they'll send Caroline or something mad like that.]

[gallowshumour]

[She calls through, her voice quiet so as not to be overheard, and nods to indicate that someone will come through to fetch him.

He only has to wait about fifteen minutes before a young man, obviously fresh out of medical school and into the Army, appears and offers him a smile.]

Captain Watson? I'm Lieutenant Havers, do you want follow me?

[jumpthegun]

Evening, Lieutenant. [John smiles back as he rises slowly from the chair. He'll follow wherever the other man leads. He seems nice enough.] Thank you for seeing me on short notice. Wasn't quite expecting to be here this long. You lot are a ways out from where I live.

[gallowshumour]

We're a ways out from most places, makes it easier to get on with training without annoying the locals.

[He leads John through the base and to a fairly large clinical room with four permanent beds and one temporary examination couch.]

Hop up on there and tell me what the problem is, please?

[jumpthegun]

[Hopping isn't happening any time soon, but John removes his suit jacket before sitting. He knows the doctor is going to want to examine him.]

Couple of broken ribs and some burns on my shoulders. Just hoping to get some bandages for the back and some ibuprofen.

[He wants something more than ibuprofen and should probably be taking something more. Fewer questions if he doesn't ask for narcotics, though.]

[gallowshumour]

Alright, let's just pop your shirt off and--

[He stops as if suddenly aware of his own babying language, embarrassed.]

Sorry, Captain, I was a paediatrician before I decided to join up, it's a hard habit to get out of. How did you manage to break your ribs and get those burns?

[He snaps on latex gloves as he talks, ready to examine.]

[jumpthegun]

[John's brow rises, but he smiles, more amused than offended. A pediatrician who went into the Army? That's one of the more unusual shifts he's seen. He pulls off his tie and unbuttons his shirt, though.]

Explosion at my flat about... five or six days ago. Nasty business. Healing up, just still hurts, y'know?

[And he really hasn't been taking care of himself like he should. His chest is a mass of bruising when his shirt comes off, and his back is t much better.]

[gallowshumour]

Sorry to hear that, but sounds like you got lucky if you made it out of an explosion and you're still on your feet.

[He assumes it was a gas leak or something, he doesn't like to pry. So instead he gets down to the business of examining John's various injuries.]

It doesn't look like you're infected, but I want to put some antibacterial cream on before I redress the bandages, and then I'll give you a week's supply of low-dose morphine tablets for the pain.

[jumpthegun]

[Oh, god. He's in love with this man and his easy offer of morphine.]

That'd be great! Thank you, Lieutenant.

So, what caused the jump from pediatrics to the military?

[gallowshumour]

No problem, that's what I'm here for. It's more interesting than most things I get to treat on base, the worst that usually happens here is a case of flu from night training in winter.

[He grins back and reaches for the antiseptic cream to start rubbing it in gently, though the grin fades a little at the question.]

I know I don't look it, but I'm half Iraqi. My mum stayed over there when she separated with my Dad and had more kids, they were killed in one of the bomb raids while I was working at Great Ormond Street, I wanted to help make sure that didn't happen again. Paediatrics wasn't a natural speciality to move to trauma surgery, but I'm taking more courses alongside my residency here on base.

[jumpthegun]

[John's brows knit.]

I'm sorry. That's... [A lot of people might have simply resented the military for something like that, turned to hatred.] The Army's lucky to have you. Did a couple of tours in Afghanistan, but I never made it over to Iraq. Have you ever been over there?

[gallowshumour]

[He shrugs, there's obvious pain in his eyes but it's not overwhelming.]

Not since I enlisted, and the war is technically over now, but I might get out there to do protection detail.

[The last of the antiseptic goes on and he gets a roll of bandages to start winding them on.]

So what made you enlist, sir?

[jumpthegun]

I was trained in A&E. Knew I wanted to be a trauma surgeon pretty early on. I wanted to help people who had some of the worst injuries. I'd also thought about the military when I was a kid. Always liked the idea of traveling, fighting to protect innocent people to stop them being hurt in the first place. It was a natural fit. Joined up and was able to work with a combat battalion, act as their field medic, and work on base as one of the resident surgeons, as well.

[His dream job, really.]

[gallowshumour]

Sounds like you definitely had it all planned out, much more organised than my career jumping.

[He snorts, and finishes tying up the bandages, snapping off his gloves and throwing them into the medical waste bin.]

How bad is the pain at the moment, do you need one dose of something stronger, or can you cope on the low dose morphine from the off?