For Specs and Tucker, a normal workday usually included enough injuries to last a while, people, and being terrified.
They knew it was really their own fault.
They were the ones that chose to be Elise's assistants, help sweep "haunted" houses, you get the idea.
Really, they got quite used to unusual calls and terror stories.
They knew, though, that for the person going through the "haunting" (if you'd call it that) and all their loved ones, it was hard.
"Do we have any plans for today?" Tucker asked, getting something to eat while Specs sat at the kitchen table, a pencil in his hand and a notebook in front of him.
"No jobs, no. Sorry, Tuck," Specs looked up as he spoke, messing with the pencil before looking down at the paper and starting to drag it across the lined paper.
Then, a phone rang.
They both knew which one it was, if only because of the ringtone.
The Ghostbusters theme was blaring through the house, telling them that they now had a job.
"You go get everything together, I'll get the call, then we'll go, okay?" Specs said as the both parted ways to quickly change and then do whatever was needed.
For Specs, that was make sure he had his notebooks and sketchbooks and pencils and to take the call.
For Tucker, it was to make sure all the cameras were packed up, loaded, and to start the van.
"Hello, this is Specs,"
"Uh, hi. This is John Watson. My f-boyfriend is in a coma-like state, but he isn't showing... I don't think it's a coma. I don't know what it is, but I'm fairly sure it's not a coma."
"Alright, okay, yeah. Address?"
"221B Baker Street,"
"Alright. We'll be over as soon as we can."
Specs got off the phone and began making his way to the van, opening the door and throwing the bag with his stuff on the floor in front of his seat before sitting.
"Address?"
"221B Baker Street."
After a couple of days, they finally arrived at their destination.
Specs knocked on the door, adjusting the strap on his bag as Tucker took his second bite out of a Taco Bell quesadilla.
The door opened to reveal who they assumed to be John Watson.
"Hi, I'm Specs. You talked to me on the phone. This is my colleague, Tucker."
Tucker nodded, taking a bite out of the quesadilla.
"It was unicorn," Specs held his hand out to John as he whispered.
John shook the other man's hand, curious about what unicorn meant but not daring to ask.
"You said there was a guy in a coma. Where's he?" Tucker asked, taking another bite of his food while staring at John.
"Yeah, how about you don't do that. It freaks people out. Mr. Watson, right? May we take a look around, you know, make su-" Specs went silent.
Tucker gave a snort of laughter. "So that's what it takes to shut the nerd- what the hell?!" Tucker and Specs were both looking at a general direction behind John.
The ex army doctor turned around in confusion, but saw...
Nothing.
John waved it away- maybe the two had been through enough to start seeing things.
Specs took a cautious step into the room, adjusting his glasses as he did so. Tucker followed not too far after, taking another bite of his quesadilla.
"He's in here," John said, leading them to the room he and Sherlock shared.
Specs could tell that the man would hate to be bedridden. He looked at John to make sure he was all right, and was mildly surprised to see him, just barely, shaking.
"When did it all start?" Specs asked gently.
"About a week, I'd say. It started after a case we worked on. It had been really weird, and when we came home... it was like the weirdness rubbed off on Sherlock."
"Okay... Tucker, you can do a check of the place?"
"Yep,"
"Alright. Mr. Watson-"
"John."
"Right. John. John, come with me to the living room. I'll ask you some questions, Tucker will check to make sure the wiring's good, maybe we'll call a friend... it will all get sorted out, I promise you."
