fossilised | For John Watson

For John Watson

[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.]

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I can try, sir.

[Something about this young man, despite being shorter than he is by a good foot, seems to have an air of command enough that he doesn't hesitate in obeying. He's never done anything like this before, but he starts to lean out of the cab.]

My name is Reuben, and I can't say as I've ever hung out of a train before, you sure you can keep me from falling while I get him?

Just as long as you're all right with us getting a bit familiar, Reuben. It's my first train track rescue, too. New experiences all 'round. [He offers the man a crooked smile before moving to wrap his arms around Reuben's waist from behind. His shoulders protest and John grimaces as he sets his feet to catch the outside of the door.]

Molly, grab another bloke just in case we need it.

[Just in case. He's not going to let go of the other man, and he'd really rather they both don't go out.]

[Molly rushes over as John braces against Reuben and the other man starts trying to lean out, her face set in concern and anger.]

No! Someone else can brace him, you're going to be no good at administering first aid if you're on the floor yourself. John!

[God, it's like she's babysitting, and the annoyance at him ignoring his injuries again is enough to break through her usual deference and awkwardness.]

[He grits his teeth, irritation flashing hot and bright as he set his jaw and he keeps hold of Reuben.]

I won't be on the floor. Just get someone else if you don't want me doing this alone.

[She immediately looks around the carriage for more support, but most people are studiously trying not to get involved now. Some are trying to move down to further carriages, and others are focusing only on themselves.

She glares around and then goes to grab the back of John's jacket herself, she still has one good arm after all.]

Fine, I've got you.

Molly... [He doesn't turn to look back at her, but his tone is very annoyed, indeed. Still, he doesn't want to have Reuben panicking. There's just added incentive for him to take the pain and make sure she isn't actually needed.]

Close to hooking him, by chance, Reuben.

Almost, sir, pole keeps sliding out from his belt.

[He's doing his best, okay! He leans out further, allowing John to take more of his weight, trusting him to hold on.]

Just a bit... further...

Take your time. I'd rather get it right the first go. [He grits his teeth and locks his fingers together so that his hands don't shake as his shoulders burn.] You've got this, mate. Molly and I have you.

[Molly braces by wrapping the arm that's in a cast around one of the poles, it hurts but she needs her other hand to hold John's shirt.

And all of a sudden the weight doubles as Reuben successfully hooks the unconscious man and his dead weight is added to what needs to be pulled back into the tube carriage.]

[John feels the strain, knows he can't take everything and that Molly is hurting herself, as well. In frustration, he just shouts to the people in the carriage.]

Bloody hell if the person nearest us doesn't help Molly, I'm putting you out on the tracks next. We're trying to save someone's life.

[He doesn't think about the implication of those words, he's just angry that Molly couldn't get someone bigger and less injured than her to help apart from Reuben. Maybe he should have waited, gotten a second man, himself.]

[That's unfortunately one of the problems with large crowds of people, nobody wants to be the one to step forward and help, especially not after being threatened by an angry doctor.

Molly grunts as her arm throbs under the pressure, but she's not about to let go. Thankfully, Reuben is up and in the cab again in about a minute, then he can help lift the unconscious man the rest of the way in. It feels like it takes hours, though, and Molly can't help but cradle her arm to her chest when she's not needed for bracing any more, sucking in slightly shaky breaths. And if she's hurting then she's worried that John must be hurting much worse.

Reuben steps back, looking half proud of himself.]

Alright, now what? Can I still help?

[Luckily, when the angry doctor lets go of Reuben, it's not rage that he's shaking with. His whole upper back and shoulders are on fire and he's starting to feel dizzy. John shoves it aside, tries to focus.]

Let me check his pulse.

[That's really what will determine the next course of action. They may have just rescued a corpse.

John presses his fingers to the man's neck as a first check.]

[Molly is watching John nervously, trying to figure out how close he is to his body just giving up on him. There's only so many times that a man can push aside his own mortality before it comes knocking. She should know, she works around enough corpses.

Thankfully, there isn't one in the cab with them. The man is unconscious, not dead, though his pulse is weak and thready. His front is patterned with the distinctive burns that come from an electric shock.]

[A quick palm held up near the man's nose tells John he's also breathing without an issue, which is positive.]

Let's get him up on the seats. Clear out of the way, you lot.

[He goes to help Reuben get the man up, but his he gets halfway to hefting when his back just refuses. Molly will see the moment John's body gives out as drops the unconscious man, and he goes down onto his knees. He tries to will himself up immediately, fight through the pain and sudden vertigo, but it's not happening.]

Sorry. Sorry, just a minute. Bad back. [Bad back and bad everything else. He very strongly suspects that he might be bleeding through his bandages.]

[Damn it all.

Molly is at John's side in a moment, half shielding him from the view of everyone else in there to help save his stupid prickly pride, and half supporting him with her good arm.]

It's okay, you got him off the tracks so someone else can take it from here. You should sit back, breathe, and I'll try and find a signal to call for help.

[Actual police and paramedics sound good.]

[John's only a little grateful that she cordons him off from view of the other onlookers.]

I'll be fine in a moment. [His voice is low.] Just lost my balance, that's all. [Which is a bad sign, but he's the only doctor here at the moment. There's a man with a thready pulse, and they're stuck in the tube. They'll have to send someone along soon, at least. London likes its trains running on time and an engine without the rest is going to look odd pulling through the next station.]

We need to find the on-board medkit if there's one, too. He's got burns along his chest. Might get infected.

[Not that John would know anything about that.]

[Molly isn't buying that for a moment, she's not nearly stupid enough to think that he's just off kilter, she's seen what he's hiding under his shirt and it's bad enough that he should be the one getting tended to be a doctor.]

Infected burns, huh?

[She might be a little sharper than usual, but she's worried and John keeps being an idiot.]

I haven't seen that recently, but I'm sure it's nothing, he'll probably be fine to discharge himself tomorrow.

Molly... [The irritation in his tone is accompanied by a glare.] Can we argue about this when there isn't someone in more danger of immediately dying than I am?

If you can stand up without help, then we can argue about it later.

[Otherwise they're going to argue about it now, because it's not like John will be able to be a proper doctor to the other man anyway.]

[At least Reuben seems to have taken his cue in the interim to get their injured man up and over to the seats without John's help. The doctor grits his teeth as he mentally and physically prepares himself to stand. He just needs to do this long enough to get Molly off his back.

Taking a breath, John surges to his feet. He looks down at Molly, jaw set. His head is spinning, his back is agony, and nausea's hitting him again in a rolling wave.]

'M fine, Molls.

[He steps forward, trying to discreetly use the seats to hold himself up and balanced.]

[She honestly thought that Sherlock Holmes would be the most stubborn man that she would ever meet, but now she's starting to understand just why the two men are such good friends. John is even more stubborn, and he does it in a way that makes it hard to be angry at him.

She watches him use the seats as a crutch and the look on her face says that she isn't even slightly convinced about his 'fine' status.]

If any other doctor tried to work like this you'd stop them. You could do more damage than good if you're working with your concentration compromised.

I don't need to be standing to tend to him. That's only problem. Please find a phone and send out a signal, Molly.

[He's aware that she's right but there aren't any other doctors in this carriage. John's worked under pressure before. Heavy fire, scorching sun, the screams of people dying around them. He can manage this. He has to. Caroline's snarls about her husband are in his mind. Her husband who didn't get the care he needed in time, who was irreparably damaged. There's no one else coming sooner. It has to be him.]

[She scowls at him for a moment or two, before her expression softens in resignation and she nods. It only takes her a few seconds to run back through to another carriage and start looking for a phone, leaving John with the strangers left in this carriage.

The man who had been on the tracks is badly burned, he'll probably need a skin graft, but his breathing doesn't appear to be getting worse. The problems will come if he wakes up and goes into shock.

Molly won't reappear for a good twenty minutes or so.]

[John only half-collapses next to the injured man. He goes down on his knees and that's fine. He can work from here.]

Does anyone have any sedatives or painkillers? I need to keep this man unconscious or at least reduce his pain. He's going to wake up screaming if we don't get to paramedics soon.

[The passengers are, once more, reluctant, but the woman who had first told John about the man on the tracks offers some acetaminophen she has in her purse. Another person, a young woman in a suit offers a small bottle of hand sanitizer. As Reuben still seems the most reliable assistant, John asks him to go and check for an on-board medkit. He suspects it was in the engine, but he has to hope they have a back-up in one of the carriages.

In the meanwhile, John's eyeing the painkillers for himself, but resists the temptation when there are so many people looking on. He gets a handkerchief from an older gentleman after demanding it, and pours some of the sanitizer on that. He doesn't press directly to the man's wounds--that would probably wake him up, but John tries to delicately peel back some of the fabric of his shirt and clean along the edges while he waits for Molly.]

Edited 2018-08-06 15:25 (UTC)

[There's a nasty wetness to this man's burns that aren't exactly blood, but more a mixture of that and the first layers of skin and fat being fried together. He groans very quietly, on the edge of consciousness, when John starts to dab around his wounds, but thankfully remains under for now.

Molly comes running back into the carriage at full pelt, face pale and a frightened look in her eyes. But she just about manages to stop blurting out her news where it might cause a stampeding panic amongst the other passengers.]

John? [Voice tight.] Could I have a private word, please?

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