(no subject)

[notanamateur]

[Shooting the vest had turned out exactly as one might expect. The bomb exploded. Both John and Sherlock had survived, but not unscathed.  Puling John into the pool hand not been enough to stop them getting injured, although when Lestrade and his team had arrived, there was no sign of Jim.

Lying in a hospital bed, Sherlock is currently sporting a broken collar bone, a sprained wrist  and more than a few cuts and bruises. But he's in better shape than John, who's asleep in the other bed. It's late now, the doctors had   patches them up as best they could  and Lestrade had already come and gone.

Sherlock fells he should be allowed to go home but both the doctors and his meddlesome brother have made it clear he's to stay overnight for observation. Luckily he has his phone to keep him company and distract him from worrying over John.]

Comments

[thatswhatppl-do.livejournal.com]

Jim is in a similar situation. Lying in a bed somewhere, not twenty miles away from where Sherlock is right now, quiet and bored as he watches the IV slowly drip into his wrist. Boring, it's all so boring. His favorite suit jacket was torn to shreds, there were numerous cuts from the shrapnel- he'd even gotten sliced across the cheek.

Oh, Sherlock would pay for that one.

There's nothing to do now, though. Not while his men are scrambling to track down one of the only men who knew he existed. And while they work on tracking him, Jim sends a cheery text.

How's the recovery?

[notanamateur.livejournal.com]

He blinks when his phone goes off. Lestde has been staunchly refusing to text him, insisting Sherlock needs his rest and Mycroft seem to be doing the same. His reaction to the message is mixed, but the crushing boredom is enough to make him respond.

Slowly. And Yours?

[thatswhatppl-do.livejournal.com]

Just peachy.

That's all he sends. A moment later, Sherlock's phone buzzes again.

Bold move.

[notanamateur.livejournal.com]

He looks over at John once, before replying.

It was wasn't it. Better chances for survival than just larking about while you shoot us.

[thatswhatppl-do.livejournal.com]

Well, seeing as to how you're out of commission for awhile, I think it's the perfect time to raise a little Hell.

[notanamateur.livejournal.com]

I'm not the only one who's out of commission.

Sherlock frowns at the phone and reaches for the iv in his arm.

[thatswhatppl-do.livejournal.com]

That's right. Your pet is too, isn't it? All the more reason.

[notanamateur.livejournal.com]

And I'm meant to believe you're in perfect shape?

[thatswhatppl-do.livejournal.com]

Now that is none of your business.

[notanamateur.livejournal.com]

Neither is John's condition. Or mine for that matter. But you're welcome to speculate.