Johnlock Oneshots

taken too quick

the doctor walked in and smiled at the boy who was sitting on the medical bed. "hello, sherlock, i'm docotor henson." he said and sat on the small circular stool. "do you know why you're here today?" he asked.

"i'm not a bloody child, of course i know." sherlock said swiftly.

"sherlock holmes!" his mother exclaimed, smacking the back of his head. "i do apologize for my son's behavior." mrs holmes said sincerily.

doctor henson gave a friendly laugh and smiled, "it's alright, i've delt with worse." he said then looked back at the clipboard in his lap. "so," he sighed. "we'll put you in a room in the cancer ward, you'll get your medicine at breakfast, lunch and dinner. you'll be able to go out, but you have to stay on hospital grounds. it looks like you have been through all the paper work already, now do you have any questions?" he asked and looked up back at the boy.

"where can i smoke?" he asked.

mrs holmes sighed and put her face in her hand, clearly not happy with her son.

"there's a section in the garden." the doctor informed him.

"great." sherlock said then slid off the medical bed, ripping the paper that was underneath him. he left the room and heard his mother talking to the doctor again. he lifted his hood over his pastel yellow turban then stuffed his hands in his hoodie pockets, making his way to the elevator. he stood with the heard of people and decided he didn't want to be a part of the crowd so he went to the stairs and instead of going down, he went up, finding his way to the roof of the hospital. he walked over to the ledge and sat down, it wide enough so he wouldn't fall off. he pulled the pack of cigerattes out along with a lighter, taking out one of the last of his cigerattes and lighting it.

two years ago, sherlock was diagnosed with panceratic cancer, now he was dying and there was nothing he could do about it. he was already a skinny boy who rarely ate, so no one expected a thing. it wasn't until later when he started complaining about back pains that they discovered it. sherlock hated going to the doctors, so he ignored the pain until he couldn't move, causing them to catch the cancer late. he's been through three surgeries and he's scheduled for one tomorrow to downsize the tumor in his pancreas. it wasn't worth it, but he had no say since he was only seventeen. a rare cancer normally found in elderly people found in a seventeen year old, weird huh? honestly sherlock don't give a rat's ass about the cancer or getting surgeries to help him live longer, it was all his parents. they wanted their son to live his life to the fullest, which he didn't understand because now they were admitting him to this so called hospital where he would be monitored 24/7. it wasn't a bad thing, really. he was away from his parents and they could only visit on the weekends because by the time they got off of work, visiting hours were up. that he was thankful for. now he sat there, on the roof of the hospital, smoking a cigeratte that he wasn't supposed to be somking, but he didn't care. once he finished the cigeratte, he sat on the ledge and looked over the fairly large town he lived in. the wind blew his hood off and he didn't mind this time. his pastel yellow turban covered up his bald head where beautiful chesnut curls used to be free, but because of chemo, they were all gone. the more the cancer progressed, the skinner he got. mainly because that's what the cancer did, but also because he rarely ate. he ate when he needed to and now he'd deffenitly have to eat when he took his meds. the boy spotted his mother's car in the parking lot, pulling out so that's when he decided to go back in. he put his hood back on as he entered the third floor, going to his assigned room. he walked in and half of the room was already taken, decorated of a young boy who had posters of bands and pictures of art hung up, while sherlock's side was blan. his bag sat on his bed and next to the bed sat a small night stand with a vase with a lonely flower in it. he scoffed at his mother's pathetic attepmt to make him feel better and pushed the bag off the bed, laying down in it's spot. he took out his phone and put his earbuds in, playing his music and ignoring the rest of the world as he closed his eyes and relaxed.