HOLD ME

CHAPTER 9

After a long while of curling up against each other and drawing strength from their embrace, Joan knew they couldn't spend the day like that. It was past lunchtime, she didn't know when Sherlock had eaten for the last time, and from his stale reek, he needed a bath. She decided the latter was the best course of action, to further calm him. They had a lot to discuss, she needed a lot of answers to the dozens of questions fleeting in her mind, but they could come later. They had a long time in their hands, and right now, it was more important to her that Sherlock was completely relaxed and could let go of his inhibitions. Little or not, he needed a break.

Disentangling Sherlock from her and careful with his injured shoulder, she took him by his armpits and almost lifted him, passing an arm around his back to steady him when he noticed him hunch involuntarily, probably because of the pain.

Together they walked upstairs, and stopping by Sherlock's bedroom to grab a clean pair of fluffy pyjamas, they continued towards the bathroom. Joan wasn't going to make the mistake of disappearing from Sherlock's sight, she remembered how scared he'd been the last time she'd done that and she didn't want to revisit it.

Aware that a full bath would not be possible with the bandages on his shoulder, she had an idea. She placed a wooden stool they kept under the sink inside the bathtub and turned on the faucet, leaving the water to fill the tub. Meanwhile, she started to undress Sherlock. She started by the jacket and then the blood-stained shirt, making sure she didn't pull too harshly so as not to upset his bandages.

She then went on to his trousers, socks and underwear. By the time he was naked, the bathtub was filled to the brim with warm water, and she gently took him by the hand and made him sit on the stool. She would've thought, after their conversation downstairs, that Sherlock would've slipped all the way to infancy by now. But for some reason, he was still fighting. He was little, Joan was sure of it, and she couldn't put her finger on it, but something was... off. She sighed and shrugged as she took the showerhead and poured some warm water on Sherlock's legs.

A bath without actually being able to sink your body into the water was no fun at all, and she knew Sherlock was bound to be cold, so she took the towel she used last time and used it to keep his body warm as she scrubbed it with the sponge and later rinsed all the dirt and soap. Sherlock had his eyes closed and his head was hanging low, Joan realized she needed to make haste and shower him and make him eat before he passed out from exhaustion.

"Come on, Sherlock" she whispered when she had poured water on his body, mindful to not let the injured area to be soaked "let's get out and clean that hair"

Sherlock obeyed and got out of the bathtub, allowing Joan to wrap him up in a big, fluffy towel. Then he sat on a chair and Joan pushed him back, placing his head in the washbasin.

It wasn't a particularly comfortable position for either of them, since Sherlock had to strain his neck to put his entire head in the basin while Joan had to stretch his arms to be able to reach to all areas of his hair. However, she tried as much as she could to make it a relaxing experience, giving his scalp a massage with her fingertips, lightly scratching and rubbing against his hair. She then took a cup and poured the water onto his head, rinsing it.

"Done, all nice and clean" she announced in a soft voice, as she turned off the water and put a towel on Sherlock's head to dry his hair.

When he was sufficiently dry, she took off his towel and started to dress him. Sherlock seemed to be in a trance, his body weighing more than usual because he was putting no resistance, and he made no other indication he was aware of what was happening.

She helped him stand to put on his underwear and pyjama bottoms, but before putting on his T-shirt Joan made him turn around to make sure the bandages were nice and dry, putting a hand on his shoulder.