Sherlock: The Next Generation

Chapter 18

Chapter 18

"What?!" Sherlock's cold eyes glared at the air as he began to pace about the living room. John's tone on the other end was worried, yet also full of anger. Sherlock could feel the same emotions rising up within him.

"I'm at the hospital right now, Sher," John's reply came eventually, slightly strained. "Greg took Molly for me, he was picking up Arianna and Myc anyway."

"Good," Sherlock spoke in a rather short, clipped tone. "I'm coming right away."

"Bring Hamish. He's well enough to come."

"I will," Sherlock frowned lightly, considering what his son's reaction would be. Far from good, to say the least. "I'll be there soon." Sherlock hung up, slipping his phone into his trouser pocket. he grabbed his blue scarf and coat, pulling them both on as he walked into the twins' room. Hamish lay on his bed, reading a book with a slight frown.

"We're going out," Sherlock announced, receiving a shocked look from Hamish.

"Where?" Hamish got up, coughing slightly as he pulled on his own coat and scarf.

"The hospital."

"Why?"

"Martin... Martin got beaten up at school. Bad enough to be hospitalised."

"What?! No... no..." Hamish's deep blue eyes widened, panic fluttering through them. No. This was his fault. he hadn't been there for Martin. He hadn't protected him. They should have been together. They were twins. They always did things together. And they survived things together. But Martin had never told him about any bullying. Which made Hamish feel just a little bit hurt. But his main emotions now were panic. Martin had to be ok. He had to be.

Sherlock swiftly moved over to his son, putting an arm around the boy and pulling him close. He kept him in this tight grip at his side as they both moved down the stairs and out of the flat. Sherlock only released him when he got a taxi and ushered Hamish in. They sat in a tense and worried silence the whole way to the hospital.

Sherlock just barged right in, moving right up to the receptionist.

"I'm here for Martin Watson-Holmes." His cold gaze swept around the place.

"Doctor Watson is in the surgery waiting room," was the receptionist's reply before she went back to the computer in front of her. Surgery waiting room? Surgery? What. That couldn't be good. There was no way that that was good. Sherlock tried to push the worry out of his mind, wearing a rather emotionless mask. He put an almost comforting hand on Hamish's shoulder, whose panicking had increased, and carefully steered him towards the waiting room. John greeted them instantly, worry lining his face. He forced a smile, though, hugging Hamish. Hamish gripped onto John, trying to steady his breathing. He didn't like this. The uncertainty. He hoped Martin would be ok.

"One of the boys kicked him in the head," John whispered, loud enough so Sherlock could hear. But not Hamish. he didn't want to worry the nine year old any more than necessary. "There's a chance it could have blinded him... they're performing surgery to try and prevent it. We won't know anything really until he wakes up, though." He shook his head with narrowed eyes. "I can't believe other boys his age would do that."

Sherlock shrugged. He had his fair share of bullying when in school. Some of it had been bad enough to land him in hospital. None would have resulted in his blindness, though. But then again his eyes had been normal. Martin's weren't.

Sherlock didn't reply, watching John as he hugged Hamish comfortingly. Sherlock tilted his head before moving forward to put his slender arms around both his son and partner. They stood there for about five minutes before breaking apart. They were in a hospital, after all. A public place. And anyone who had come across the scene would have found it rather queer to say the least. A short blond man with a look between anger and worry pasted across his face hugging a distressed curly haired boy the same height as that. Add on top a tall, thin figure attempting to hide his emotions like he once so easily could and you have a rather strange hugging situation. At least to the onlooker. To the three participants it was a small comfort.

"Doctor Watson?" A rather prim looking male doctor stepped out of a door and looked at the small family group. "You may come see him now." John nodded, pushing Hamish in front of him gently. The boy stumbled slightly before walking purposefully forward. John twined his fingers through Sherlock's, tightly holding his hand. The tall man nodded slightly to the doctor as they entered.

Martin had been put in a room on his own (at John's request... well, his request with a slight amount of threatening), which in itself was rather small. But it was better than being in a ward even  though he hopefully wouldn't be here long. But Martin didn't really like people. Strangers least of all.

The young boy was lying on the single bed, covers pulled up to his chin. His eyes were shut tight and his skin was paler than normal. Occasionally he twitched in his sleep, a look of pain crossing his face. The only signs of damage from here was that look of pain and the slightly visible, small head wound under his thick black curls.

Hamish looked close to tears as they stood beside the bed. He hated seeing Martin hurt. They were so close. Both hated seeing the other in any form of pain. Hamish had once fallen over while in the park and badly sprained his wrist. The result from this had been a crying, in pain Hamish and Martin in absolute hysterics. It was strange to look back on but had been stressful for John and Sherlock at the time.

"I'm sorry, Marti," Hamish whispered, looking down at his twin. John and Sherlock shared a look as the doctor came back in behind them.

"We are unsure of the affects of the wound to the head," the doctor began, eyes on his patient. "We will not know until he wakes. He has suffered from a broken right arm, a couple of cracked ribs and his legs are also badly affected. The majority of his body will also be hurt." The doctor narrowed his eyes. "I have treated many case of bullying but this is one of the worse." Sherlock and John glanced at each other with identical frowns. "He could wake up at any time. If he doesn't wake up in a few days then his injuries are worse than anticipated." He looked at Sherlock and John. "As he is under eighteen someone it is recommended that someone stays overnight. I will leave you as to have some time alone." The doctor nodded before leaving.

"I'll stay." Sherlock spoke instantly, stopping John's protests with a look. "I don't need the sleep as much as you, John. If he wakes I will call you. It would be better if you are at home with Hamish and Molly." John sighed slightly, nodding his agreement. It was going to be a long night.

"Papa?" John looked up from his reading to see a thin figure in the door. He frowned, glancing at the time. It was just past midnight yet John had no thoughts of sleeping. he probably needed it.

"Yes, Hamish?" John watched his son as he walked into the room, moving over to the large double bed normally slept on by both John and Sherlock. But Sherlock was currently at the hospital.

"I can't sleep," Hamish murmured, sitting on the bed. "I can't sleep without Martin there." John nodded slightly, putting his book down on the bedside table. He shifted over, indicating for Hamish to get under the covers. Hamish shuffled in, moving over so that his head rested against John's shoulder. John gently hugged the young boy, turning off the night.

"Try to sleep, Mish."

"Okay Papa." Hamish closed his eyes, his breathing gradually growing deeper and slower. It took him a while but eventually the boy drifted into a deep slumber. John lay awake for a long time with his son curled up beside him. He hoped Martin was ok. When they found out who had done this John would make sure they got the punishment they deserved. No one did something like that to his little boy and got away with it. No one.