donutsweeper (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
donutsweeper) wrote2011-08-04 11:14 pm
donutsweeper) wrote2011-08-04 11:14 pm
The Road To Recovery
Title: The Road To Recovery
Fandom/Warning/Rating: Sherlock BBC, none, rated G
Word Count: 434
Beta:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
_medley_
Summary: John worried about returning home.
Author's Note: Written for the![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
watsons_woes amnesty prompts wherein 10 fics are written for 10 prompts and all are part of the same story arc. This is the ninth story, for the prompt "Gratuitous and shameless H/C/Schmoop."
It was often said that doctors made the worst patients. In John's case it was definitely true. He argued with the nurses, he argued with the therapists, he argued with Harry and he argued with Sherlock. Sherlock, however, was the only one who argued back.
"Don't be stupid, John. Of course you are returning to Baker Street with me." Sherlock had already made arrangements for when John was to be released from hospital later that week and considered the matter closed.
"No. No." John had been improving by 'leaps and bounds' (according to his doctors anyway), but it still took time for him to find the correct words when he needed them. "Brain damage. I have brain damage."
"Yes, I am well aware of that fact, as I was by your side the entire length of your coma and then experienced your confusion and impairments as you discovered them. But you have been working with physical and occupational therapists and have already achieved significant motor and cognitive improvement. And it appears likely you will continue to do so."
"I need too much help. Everyday stuff. You'd have to help me."
"I'm sure I can manage buttoning a few buttons for you. Or, if that is unacceptable to you we could hire help, someone to do all that and make tea and maybe tidy up the place a bit. Actually, that is a rather brilliant idea, if I do say so myself. Let's hire an aide, it shouldn't be a problem- Mycroft has all the connections and money we'll need."
"You only want one because... Because you hate cleaning."
"That is completely immaterial." Sherlock waved away John's comment. "It solves your perceived problem and enables you to come home. That is what matters."
"I can't write or text."
"You just need to work on your grip strength. And, until then, I believe there is a feature of the mobile that allows users to speak to one another."
"There is?" John gave Sherlock a lopsided grin. "Who knew?"
"Oh, a joke. How very funny. Perhaps whilst you are working on improving your various physical and mental abilities we can have someone help you with your sense of humour."
"Sherlock." John stared down at the blanket covering his legs and began to pick at it. "I don't want to prevent you from. From you. Doing what you want. Being what you want."
Sherlock rested his hand over John's. "I guarantee that will never happen. It is rather more likely you will be under that pressure yourself. You haven't seen the state of the flat recently, have you?"
The story continues in The Road To Recovery Addendum, aka, The Scrapbook Sherlock Would Never Admit He Owns. The masterpost to this entire verse can be found here.
Fandom/Warning/Rating: Sherlock BBC, none, rated G
Word Count: 434
Beta:
_medley_Summary: John worried about returning home.
Author's Note: Written for the
watsons_woes amnesty prompts wherein 10 fics are written for 10 prompts and all are part of the same story arc. This is the ninth story, for the prompt "Gratuitous and shameless H/C/Schmoop."It was often said that doctors made the worst patients. In John's case it was definitely true. He argued with the nurses, he argued with the therapists, he argued with Harry and he argued with Sherlock. Sherlock, however, was the only one who argued back.
"Don't be stupid, John. Of course you are returning to Baker Street with me." Sherlock had already made arrangements for when John was to be released from hospital later that week and considered the matter closed.
"No. No." John had been improving by 'leaps and bounds' (according to his doctors anyway), but it still took time for him to find the correct words when he needed them. "Brain damage. I have brain damage."
"Yes, I am well aware of that fact, as I was by your side the entire length of your coma and then experienced your confusion and impairments as you discovered them. But you have been working with physical and occupational therapists and have already achieved significant motor and cognitive improvement. And it appears likely you will continue to do so."
"I need too much help. Everyday stuff. You'd have to help me."
"I'm sure I can manage buttoning a few buttons for you. Or, if that is unacceptable to you we could hire help, someone to do all that and make tea and maybe tidy up the place a bit. Actually, that is a rather brilliant idea, if I do say so myself. Let's hire an aide, it shouldn't be a problem- Mycroft has all the connections and money we'll need."
"You only want one because... Because you hate cleaning."
"That is completely immaterial." Sherlock waved away John's comment. "It solves your perceived problem and enables you to come home. That is what matters."
"I can't write or text."
"You just need to work on your grip strength. And, until then, I believe there is a feature of the mobile that allows users to speak to one another."
"There is?" John gave Sherlock a lopsided grin. "Who knew?"
"Oh, a joke. How very funny. Perhaps whilst you are working on improving your various physical and mental abilities we can have someone help you with your sense of humour."
"Sherlock." John stared down at the blanket covering his legs and began to pick at it. "I don't want to prevent you from. From you. Doing what you want. Being what you want."
Sherlock rested his hand over John's. "I guarantee that will never happen. It is rather more likely you will be under that pressure yourself. You haven't seen the state of the flat recently, have you?"
The story continues in The Road To Recovery Addendum, aka, The Scrapbook Sherlock Would Never Admit He Owns. The masterpost to this entire verse can be found here.