We'll be counting stars

Fixing the broken

Flashback:

John woke up and went to work in the morning, Gladston followed him to the door, probably in the hope for a walk.
John headed off to the doctors where he went into his room and started accepting the patients and going through the procedures of each.

After a seven hour shift john started the walk home, it was late and John figured it was around eight o'clock. He then heard someone walking near him and turned around to see a tall figure wearing a black trench coat and a blue scarf. He was stumbling around and John began to become concerned for this man so he steadily approached him in the attempt to not alarm him.

The man looked up at John in panic and tried to get away but stumbled and fell, hitting his head against the floor and then trying to cruel away. John approached the man slowly holding his hands in surrender to the man who was clearly in pain.

"I'm not going to hurt you" john told him gently.

"Then who are you?" the man choked, whimpering in pain as his head was pounding inside. He looked up at the man and tried to see who he was but his head hurt and his eyes felt fuzzy, all he wanted to do was sleep with an ice pack against his stomach and head.

"Can you just let me help you, I'm a doctor, my name is John Watson, I'll take you to the hospital."

"No, please no, I hate hospitals, anywhere but there" the man begged.

John looked at the man shaking on the floor in front of him, his head had a gash and he was bruised all over.

"Okay no hospitals, how about my flat?" John asked kindly crouching down next to the man. The man looked up at him and something made him trust the doctor so he allowed him to come closer and pick him off the floor.

John shrugged the mans arm around his neck and then gently snaked his arm around the taller mans waist so that he held his weight instead of the man.

John hailed a cab and told the driver the address and then he turned his attention to the man sat next to him, collapsed against the window. He had a bruised face, his nose bleeding, busted lip and a black eye and most likely other injuries hidden under his layers of clothing.

Once the cab pulled up John went round the other side to help out the man who was attempting to open he door. The man collapsed into Johns arms so john decided on carrying him up into the flat and after a lot of struggling, he laid him down on to the sofa.

The man whimpered in pain and held onto his stomach in pain gritting his teeth. John knelt over him and unbuttoned the mans coat, he then took off the mans scarf and draped it in the chair along with the coat.

"How many layers do you wear?" John asked as he came across the man was still wearing a blazer over a button up rouge shirt. The man chuckled slightly at this and leaned into the sofa.

John leaned over him and undid the blazer buttons and slid it off the mans shoulders. He then undid the buttons on the mans shirt and pulled it apart so that the mans torso was revealed. It was painted in bruises and blood, john knelt down next to the man holding his hands over the mans torso.

"Tell me if it hurts okay, hold my hand" he instructed holding his hand out for him to take, the man looked at it strangely and then took Johns hand holding on lightly. John then began to press against the mans ribs individually. A small gasp escaped the mans lips as John pressed down, and his grasp tightened on Johns hand.

"Sorry. your doing really good, hang on" John told him gently squeezing his hand in reassurance. He then continued pressing, mentally noting the ones which caused the most pain and the one he presumed broken. He appeared to have two broken ribs in total and a few others bruised, the man would require rest and bandages to keep his ribs in the right place whilst it healed.

"You have two broken ribs" John pointed out, the man nodded and tried to sit up but as he winced in pain he felt a strong hand push his shoulder back onto the sofa. "Don't move, I'll get the first aid kit" said John going off to his room to fetch his personal first aid kit that went from simple plasters to complex tools and creams.

He entered the room to see the man had not moved and he smiled at him. He placed his kit onto the coffee table and helped the man sit up completely supporting him on the sofa. He then took the mans shirt off him completely so his torso was completely bear covered in cuts and purple, blue, yellow and green bruises along with nasty red marks across his pale skin that looked sore and harsh.

"What happened to you?" John asked gently, holding onto the mans shoulder.

"Chasing criminals, ended up being caught in a fight, they caught them but the damage they did to me will take longer to go away" the man said with a weak smile, "the names Sherlock by the way, Sherlock Holmes"

"Nice to meet you Sherlock, now if you could just stay still whilst I fix you up and the damage they did, is that okay?" John asked picking up a few patches that he would cover over the cuts, but first he needed to clean the wounds and put antiseptic cream on them that would help the healing process and prevent bacteria in the cut.

John cleaned the cuts causing Sherlock to wince in pain as the alcohol caused  the raw flash to sting. He then covered them in cream which felt like being burnt as it reached the damaged skin and open wounds. Once done he positioned the patches over the worst cuts and then bandaged Sherlocks ribs so that they would heal and not move to much during the healing process.

John looked up at Sherlock, who had been watching him,  to see him biting his lip and his eyes watering slightly. His knuckles were white from where he had been clenching onto the end of the sofa during moments of agony.

"Now I've fixed that, better not put your shirt on for now, just relax a bit, I'm gonna check on that gash on your head now. Are you okay?" John asked looking at Sherlock as a tear slid down his face.

"Yeah, I'm fine."

"You don't have to act brave all the time" John assured him as he stood up and took the seat next to Sherlock.

Gladston woke shortly after and bounced up to Sherlock before settling on his lap, he looked down at the dog in confusion before he began to stroke its ears, the dog comforted him and helped him forget his pain. John smiled at them before leaning over Sherlock and inspecting the gash in his forehead. It was deep and bleeding a fair amount.

"Maybe don't run away in future unless your sure you can walk" John said gently stroking Sherlocks hair out of his eyes and away from the cut.