Eastern Winds (JohnLock)

Chapter 30 - Back to Baker Street

John's P.O.V;

I was awoken with Sherlocks arms wrapped tightly around my waist with his head burried in the crook of my neck. He was planting soft open-mouthed kisses over the quickly fading love bites he left days ago (but it seemed like only yesterday to me) in an attempt to rekindle the fire from our first night together. I hummed appreciatively but It was only as my eyelids fluttered open that I remembered what had awoken me in the first place. There was a rather disaproved-looking Mycroft' as he towered over the foot of the bed. "Little Brother, preheaps it would be best if you could keep your activities"  the word drawn out with caution "to the confines of the bedroom..."

"Brother mine, you seem to have forgotten we are in a room, with a bed." He mumbled into the skin of my neck before he continued to run his lips along my jugular. It was clear he was trying to make Mycroft uncomfortable in hopes that he'd bugger off but I found it was only making my cheeks redden.

"Sherlock, why must you be so perverse? There is no time for your games right now so I would love if you could stop trying to seduce your boyfriend whilst we have more pressing matters to discuss. Also Doctor Watson, it's a pleasure to see you awake, truly." Mycroft was most likely under strict instructions to behave as he tried his best to smile at me, it was pathetic really, not quite toothy enough but an almost smile was a feat for the goverment offical. Then again you cannot exactly ridicule the man who took a bullet for their brother. I only nodded as I shifted my weight sitting up to rest my back against the headboard. White hot pain rippled through my shoulder and I winced once again registering I have a second hole in my left shoulder now. Sherlock had immediately rose from his place on the bed next to me in order to rearrange the pillows ensuring I was comfortable. Despite Mycroft being in the room I tugged on his sleeve so that he would join me on the bed again.

Sherlock saw his brothers brows almost shooting off the top of his head in shock. "Sherlock, look at you helping another human being. Mummy and Daddy would be so proud."

"This is no time to patronise me, John is in pain. I am simply soothing it. What's your excuse?" an inquisitive brow was raised between brothers. "Oh Mycroft, you cannot think I would notice where you have just come from? Your lips are swollen, your hair is ever so slightly out of place-you poorly swept it down on your way here did you not? Also your waistcoat has multiple creases from somebody grabbing it. That someone I assume was the Detective Inspector Lestrade... A heated morning prehaps?"

The eldest Holmes brother cleared his throat "I'm not here to be deduced Sherlock, I am here to offer my sincerest apologies. Myself and Gregory believed you two would be safer with us in the house. Although outnumbered Moriarty has clearly left behind yet more troubles for you two to deal with." He gestured to my sholder, and I was becoming very aware of my bare chest accompanied by my poor attempt of lifting the sheets over it. "I only guaranteed your lives, not your livelyhood, and for that I should apologise. I appear to have caused you great strife little brother but I needed the two of you in the house to end Moriarty one way and for that to happen I mislead you. In the future if you need anything, I am merely a phonecall away." He turned on his heel to make the usual kind of flamboyant exit. "Oh and I'm sending in the nurses now..."

Sherlock groaned before dragging himself from my bed.

_____

Two nurses entered the room and spent the next half an hour prodding and poking me and my shoulder. It was becoming ridiculous and I had to intervine, for god's sake, I am a doctor after all. I told them I should be fine to leave as Sherlock was more than capable as a carer, especially with my guidance. I told them to prescribe me  3 medications, two for pain relif and the third, antibiotics to prevent infection. It took another half an hour for them to change the dressings and to convince them that I knew the risks as they talked me through the usual procedure of discharging a patient early. Already in my pyjama bottoms I cautiously let Sherlock pull a white cotton shirt to cover me up before he aided me down to the cab waiting.

The ride home was one we had made hundreds of times together during cases, but this was different. Sherlock hands wrapped around my legs when he pulled me onto his lap and a hauntingly quiet silence lingered, his mind was obviously going ten to the dozen. I let him think and just snuggled in closer inhaling the smell of him all the way home. I didn't really have much to remember, I know it was Moriarty who shot me, and I remember the feint cries of Sherlock, but he had much more to assess, he had to sort and sift his memories of the traumatic few days he had to endure while I laid comatosed in the bed beside him without any worries. Sherlock even paid for the cab before he lifted me up the stairs again placing me back in our bed before stalking back into the kitchen. Maybe being shot wasn't too bad after all with Sherlock Holmes at my disposal. This poor bugger was ready to wait on me hand and foot for the next few weeks but I'm not letting him otherwise he'll find another way to drug my coffee again... The dip of the matress pulled me back to reality again as Sherlock slid under the sheet beside me while holding a tray steady with one hand above his head.

He lowered his arms revealing a greasy mountain made up of my favourite breakfast foods a tall glass of fresh orange juice and a cup of tea in my favourite mug. The mug was chipped on the handle but drawn onto the side was our silhouette's, there was fan merchandise galore now that my blog was a hit, but this particular piece always brought a smile to my face... As the familiar smell of bacon hit me I grabbed my knife and fork and piled in. I hadn't noticed how ravenous I was until I was shoving eggs down my throat like there was no tommorow.

"fanc mcrft"

"Pardon, John?"

I gulped down my mouthful of food, smiling apologetically I tried to speak again. "I said to thank Mycroft for getting me the food, dont think I didn't notice you texting in the hospital..." Before even waiting for a reply my knife and fork were once again at war with the food on my lap.

"Nothing gets past you does it?" Sherlock chuckled as he pressed his lips to my hairline "Except for me 99 percent of the time... I still cannot believe you drank the coffee that time in Baskerville, shouldn't your soldier senses have been tingling?"

I shoved him playfully, "I was trying to be polite. Something you wouldn't know much about, would you Mr. 'You seeee John, but you do not observe.'" That was how we spent the rest of the day lounging in bed, joking around, sharing kissess and holding eachother. Just the two of us again, London won't know what will have hit it when I'm back on the streets beside my consulting detevtive once again.