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

[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?

[jumpthegun]

[That's much better. John starts to pull his shirt back on.]

Low dose is fine. I've been dealing with lighter stuff before that, and I need to stay sharp. [It's easy to talk to this bloke. He's nice. Deciding to do this is probably one of his better decisions for the day, even with the risk. A further thought occurs to him on that front.]

And, uh... I know this is asking a lot, and if it's outside regulations, no worries, but any chance I could just lie down on one of those beds until my ride turns up?

[gallowshumour]

[He nods, not about to argue with a fellow doctor and superior ranked officer, and heads into the back to grab a packet of 10mg morphine tablets, enough for two a day morning and evening.]

Well...

[He grins, easy and light, and gestures at the completely empty room.]

As you can see we're a little swamped at the moment, but I think I can find space for you. Take the bed in the corner, though I'll have to ask you to leave if I get one of our soldiers needing to come in for treatment. Confidentiality, you understand.

[jumpthegun]

[John perks up.]

Yeah, I understand completely. You're really a lifesaver, Lieutenant. Thank you!

[He makes a mental note to call in and provide a solid review for Lieutenant Havers tomorrow. Shouldn't be hard to find the number for the base online.

John finishes with his shirt, but doesn't put his tie and jacket back on. He moves over to the indicated bed and hangs those on a nearby chair before slipping his shoes off. Probably shouldn't get too comfortable, but he detests putting shoes on the furniture.]

[gallowshumour]

[Poor guy seems like he's been through a lot, losing his home that way. He doesn't know why he's here at the base, but he's happy to help as much as he can. So he leaves the Captain to rest, sleep if he can, for as long as he needs to.

Nobody will disturb him until a little over four hours later when his phone vibrates with a text.]

FROM: MOLLY HOOPER
TO: JOHN WATSON
I'm at the gate, but I don't have authorisation to come inside so you'll have to come out. Sorry it took so long, traffic is a nightmare. Molls. xx

[jumpthegun]

[The buzz of the phone rouses John from his light doze.]

FROM: JOHN WATSON
TO: MOLLY HOOPER
Great! I'll be out there in just a few minutes. You're a godsend, Molly. Really, I can't thank you enough.

[He gets fully dressed and checks around for Lieutenant Havers. If he finds the man, he'll thank him again and bid him goodbye. If not, he'll find a pad of paper and leave a quick thank you note on the bed for him to find. As he's walking out toward the gate, John texts Sherlock again.]

FROM: JOHN
TO: SHERLOCK
Still following Jim? Molly's only just arrived. She's coming back to the flat with me.

[gallowshumour]

[John will, unfortunately, not be able to find Lieutenant Havers before he has to leave, but someone else shows him out of the building and signs him out as a visitor. It's just as he's getting in the car that his phone goes off again, but it's not from Sherlock.]

FROM: SARAH SAWYER
TO: JOHN WATSON
Are you kidding me? Just an 'okay' and a stupid warning, and then nothing? What the hell is wrong with you?

[Molly gives him a smile as he gets in the car, and waves a bag of Burger King at him.]

So what are you doing all the way out here? It seems very hush-hush.

[jumpthegun]

[John wants to run his hands down his face at Sarah's text because really? She tells him they're through, he respects that, and he's an arsehole for it? Christ. He flashes a somewhat harried smile at Molly as he gets in.]

Summons. [He takes the bag and opens it, the scent of grease hitting him and making his stomach growl.] Thanks for this. I'm, uh... they're investigating me for war crimes and Jim turned up pretending to be some lawyer named James Davidson from Legal Aid. He acted like he didn't know me. It was mad.

[He'll deal with Sarah in a moment. It's going to be a long drive.]

[gallowshumour]

[Molly stalls the car abruptly, a look of shock and sick horror on her face. This is all-- it's going so far out of control so fast, and she's helped it get to this place.]

War-- war crimes?! That's ridiculous, isn't it? They can't have any evidence, surely they're just trying to scare you, right?

[jumpthegun]

[John makes a strangled noise of pain when he slams against the safety belt. Maybe he should have gone with the higher initial dose of morphine. The doctor takes in a few shallow breaths, easing himself back in the seat. His ribs need to stop being broken. Now.

It's a good half a minute before John can reply. His voice is tight.]

It's ridiculous, yeah. But the general they've put in charge of it, he already thinks I'm guilty. Jim wasn't helping, making me look and sound like a lunatic in the meeting. They had photos of me with some people I don't recognize. I'm guessing they have a lot of doctored evidence that Jim and Caroline provided.

[gallowshumour]

[Oops, she looks pretty flustered when she sees him wince. Why does she keep messing this up? Such a klutz, Molly, this is why all your friends are cadavers!]

Sorry.

[She sets off again contritely, brow furrowed in concern.]

This can't work, the forensics department has all sorts of technology to prove if a photo has been doctored or not, they can't just-- we'll find a way to make sure this doesn't go anywhere. What about Sherlock? Where is he?

[jumpthegun]

[John sets the Burger King down between his legs on the car floor and pulls out his mobile again. Sarah's text is glaring at him, and he opens that to reply.]

I'm not sure. I just texted him to ask. I let Detective Inspector Lestrade know to contact him and get on to watching him, though. [He's not going to let himself panic, yet. There are hours ahead of them on the road.]

FROM: JOHN WATSON
TO: SARAH SAWYER
Sarah, I'm not sure what you want from me. You told me to piss off.

[gallowshumour]

[Molly's face sets into a concerned frown, but there's not much she can offer to that other than what John's already thought to do. Besides, he seems to be busy with his phone right now--]

FROM: SARAH SAWYER
TO: JOHN WATSON
I thought that maybe your job and I meant a bit more to you than just an 'okay'. A proper in person explanation and apology might have been the decent thing to do, but forget it. Just forget it, John.

[--oh! His phone reminds her of the messages she has for him.]

Um, John? When you're done with that, DI Lestrade gave me some messages to pass along to you.

[jumpthegun]

[Is this where he's meant to fight more? Bloody hell...]

FROM: JOHN WATSON
TO: SARAH SAWYER
You mean more to me than a lot of things, Sarah. It's why I wanted you away in the first place. It's why I didn't want you involved. Me pissing off is safer for you. Someone is killing and kidnapping the people I care about, has access to bombs, can alter government CCTV footage, and can manage to fake their identity well enough to infiltrate a military base. I don't want you anywhere near this. Sherlock isn't the target this time, Sarah, it's me. It's nothing he's done, just some psychopath and her accomplice who've decided I'm the devil incarnate.

[John looks up from his phone.]

Hmm? Messages?

[gallowshumour]

It's okay. [Molly shoots him a brief awkward smile, before fixing her attention on the road again.] They can wait until you're done with your texting, I just mentioned it while I remembered. Otherwise I'd think about it, and then by the time you were done it would be gone again. I always do that, it's-- wait, you don't need to know.

[Stop rambling, Molly! She subsides into uncomfortable silence just as John's phone beeps again.]

FROM: SARAH SAWYER
TO: JOHN WATSON
Then come and talk to me, I'm not here to be protected. I deserve an explanation in person if nothing else. I'm worried about you, John. I still care even if you've been a real arse these past few days.

[jumpthegun]

[John pinches the bridge of his nose for a moment.]

FROM: JOHN WATSON
TO: SARAH SAWYER

Tomorrow, unless you want me turning up at midnight. I'm hours outside the city right now, but we're heading back in.

[John lowers his phone again.]

I'll take the messages now, Molls. Sorry. It's just Sarah. [A pause as he considers Molly's car is potentially bugged once more.] She runs the clinic I work locum at. Been trying to get her to shut down and head out of the country to keep her and everyone there safe from a bombing like Baker Street.