A Study In Love - A Johnlock Fanfiction

Chapter Nineteen

Hi there! Not really much to say except thanks for 6,000 reads!! And also thanks for the comments guys! I would answer them all individually but that would be a giant comment and I don't want to make a bunch of them 'cause I want to keep the 'stats' for this story unaffected by me. But I will say thank you guys so much. And I saw a question about the updating schedule, at first it was around every 3 days, but it's gotten kind of messed up now. I still try to keep it around 3 or 4 days if I can though. :)

Also, I feel the need to say that this story is not rated M, and will not be. Sorry if anyone's disappointed but I'm just not comfortable with writing that stuff yet. Maybe some time in the future but not now. :/

Okay, that's all, thanks again for reading, and here's chapter nineteen!

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The ride to the hospital had been long and arduous. Sherlock, who had refused to ride in a separate ambulance, had remained sitting beside John while he was lying in the stretcher, one hand pressing something against his forehead to stop his cut from bleeding, the other one gently smoothing down John's hair. John was sure that everyone in the ambulance thought they were a couple, and he couldn't blame them. After all, they had been cuddling in the car when the ambulance came, and he was pretty sure that hair stroking was a bit too intimate a gesture for them to be thought of as 'just friends'. John himself was a bit confused as to why Sherlock was doing it, but it felt nice, so he didn't complain.

In fact, when John found himself lying down on some table getting his leg x-rayed, he'd wished that Sherlock was standing beside him, running his hands over his hair, rather than in a completely different part of the hospital getting the gash in his forehead stitched up.

The next time John saw Sherlock was when he was lying in a hospital bed waiting for a doctor to come and give him the results of his x-ray. He'd heard a soft knocking at the door, and he turned his head to see Sherlock leaning against the door frame. All of the blood had been wiped from his face, and his hair was covering the majority of the stitches, but John could still see the bruising on his cheek. Despite the pain he felt in his chest at seeing Sherlock's face like that, he smiled at him.

"May I come in?" Sherlock asked. John's smile grew and he rolled his eyes.

"Of course you can." Sherlock nodded his head, then came inside, standing at John's bedside. When he was close enough, John reached up towards him. Sherlock looked confused, but bent down enough for John to lightly brush his fingers over the purple marks on his face. He heard someone behind Sherlock clear their throat, and he let his hand fall to his side while Sherlock turned around. Perhaps John was just seeing things, but he could've sworn Sherlock was glaring at the doctor and nurse standing just inside the room, looking down at something on the clipboard in his hands.

"Well, it appears you have a fibular fracture," he said, not looking up. "There's no need to worry, but since you aren't exactly a 'spring chicken' anymore it might take a bit longer to heal than it would for some younger people. I say we get you in a cast, and you'll have to wear it for at least a month." John sighed and nodded his head, and felt Sherlock place his hand on his shoulder, giving it a light squeeze. The doctor pulled a pen out and held it poised in his hand, ready to write.

"I can prescribe you some medication for the pain, if you'd like," he said, and John told him he'd appreciate it. The doctor nodded his head and began scribbling something down. "Okay, now, would you like crutches or a cane? I'd suggest the crutches but it's your choice."

"Well, I already have a cane at home," John said, looking up at Sherlock, "Maybe I should get the crutches." The doctor began scribbling something down and nodded.