A Painful & Thoughtful Wake

Sherlock grunted and opened his eyes. It was so hard to do, it seemed he had been sleeping for days... He blinked many times before coming a bit to his senses.

Oh great....The hospital.

He recognized the place as soon as he saw the neon lights and the white walls. He put the pieces together and deducted that after he had shot on the bomb-filled jacket, he had fallen unconscious and had been brought by (probably policemen and ambulancemen) some people to the hospital. He wondered if Watson was in here somewhere....Probably. But he was too tired to try to turn his head to make sure of it.

Now, let's see if I have anything broken...

''OWWWWWWWW!!''he screamed as soon as he moved his right arm a little.

All right.... definitely the arm... and obviously some other places too.

Right after he tried moving his arm (which resulted in a disgusting pain), all his body, as it was beginning to ''wake up'', began to ache in different places. Mostly the face where he had many scratches and burns (minor ones that would soon disappear, but still), and his limbs.

He definitely wanted to get out of here.

Watson woke up in his hospital bed.

Ow..

He groaned and tried to get up. Yeah, maybe not.
Suddenly he heard an awful scream. It was Sherlock.

Guess I'm not the only one who's hurt..

He managed to lift his head a bit and turn to look at Sherlock, who was laying in the bed next to him.
Though the pain was very, well, painful, he figured he should see how his friend was doing.

"Are you okay?" he asked quietly.

[i]They both look up as a nurse opens the door. she is a short lady in her middle ages with an overly large smile. She smiled
"Ah good you're awake" And she opened the door. In strolled Donovan and Anderson who both looked rather bored and tired.
"Wide awake. Just as i suspected" Anderson muttered and walked over to stand by John's bed. "How are you feeling? we need a full report of your status for paperwork so i'm sure we'd appreciate a quick answer. we have lots to do."

''Of course I am. If I wasn't, I wouldn't have cried out in pain...''

Sherlock's tone of voice was bitter. Probably because of the pain and the rage of being stuck in an hospital bed, doing absolutely NOTHING else than waiting to get out.... He glanced at the two figures approaching towards him and Watson, then sighed as he saw who they were...

''Oh great... I needed to see mister even my thoughts are enough to lower anybody's IQ and miss I-Think-I-Know-Everything-And-You-Don't even though you're wrong on that one... I DO know...''

He grunted a bit as he shifted on his bed to get a better sitting position; he wasn't going to show he was a bit weak, now, would he? No, never! He was always in control... Okay, maybe not the last time with Moriarty.... but still, he had been at the end...by surprising him with that shooting on the jacket....

Yes, that was good! But look where it got me... At least I'm still alive...and so is Watson.

''Oh! And yes, Watson, I'm fine. You?...''

He had forgotten to answer dear Watson and thought it wasn't a good sign...he never forgot anything.

It must have given me such a...shock....

'' You heard me. I'm fine. A full report of paperwork? More of lies and stupidities... What will you do with them afterwards, anyway? Keep them locked away and never use them...ah..you policemen.... You? A lot to do? haha....If that ever happens, Anderson, THAT would surprise me...''

Then, just for the fun of it, he looked at Donovan, raised his eyebrow as if to say '' And you, I bet you got nothing else to do also...'', then grunted another time in pain. And he hated to show he was hurt....

''So...Watson..nothing broken?...I hope so, because you know we'll still have to run a lot...And you'd better be ready.''

Sally glares at Sherlock, putting as much spite and dislike into the expression as possible
"Alright, freak?"
Damn, it was shame that he didn't actaully get blown up in that pool. Arrogant little sod
"Yes, we have a lot to do. Yes it's important. Perhaps if anyone will ever employ you, you might understand, and can stop bothering us."
She grinds her teeth together, gives him a final contemptuous look, and turns away, unwilling to waste any more time on him. She turns her attention instead to John. She likes him more than Sherlock, although his continued association with the psychopath is beyond her understanding. It's insane
"Told you he'd get you killed" she says to the doctor, rolling her eyes a little.

"Oh, hello", he said sleepily as Donovan and Anderson walked in.

He glanced quickly at Sherlock and then said: "I'm okay, at least."

Knowing Sherlock, we'll be outta here very soon, so it's a good thing I'm okay..ish.

"Yeah, good. I'm fine, too", Watson nodded at Sherlock.

He listened calmly as Sherlock lectured at Donovan and Anderson... Well, mostly Anderson.

"I'll still be able to run", Watson assured.

He sighed at Donovan's comment.

"I'm not dead now, am I, though?" he mumbled.

"Yes but, you seem not to have come to terms with your situation John. You're in a hospital bed, barely able to move. A minute ago the nurses were worried you might not wake up. It's hardly a step up from death. One more rough scrape like that and it'll be your COD we're filling out"
[b]Only the doctor would be so calm about this. What Holmes did was reckless and almost suicidal. And yet John barely seems to be fine with it. Maybe if showed him his medical records and the mountain of paperwork (and the paper slide) Donovan, and indirectly Anderson, had to fill out.

"Yep" Sally agrees, walking to Anderson's side, and surveying the two men.
Not too close, Sally. Don't want to give Sherlock ammunition
"If you're still okay with him after this, then you need your head looking at."
She throws a rather dirty look in Sherlock's direction, before addressing the pair of them again
"Anyway, do you two actually know what wrong with you, or shall we just pick up the records from the nurse?"
She glances across the room at said nurse, who's currently talking encouragingly to another patient, a man with his leg in a cast.

''Yes, I'm all right.''he replied to Donovan.

He then grunted a bit and began to retort that Watson still wasn't dead since he was right beside him, but then Watson replied on his own and Sherlock's expression almost went up to pride...Though,it quickly faded.

''Awesome then, Watson. As soon as we get out of here...we'll go looking for him again.''

he grunted..AGAIN... before staring back at all of them who were looking at him as if he were mad.

Well, they already think it, anyway.....

''What? He's not dead. Did you really think that maniac would go down this easily? No, no...I can't believe...No, actually I can believe you've all been that stupid to think so.''

And he smiled. Bitchingly.

''Oh..he'll always be okay with him. It's not as if I mistreated him... right Watson?''he asked, giving a friendly slap on John's side, which sadly resulted in hurting him...

Sherlock quickly removed his hand from there. ''Oh, sorry...''

The one and only consulting detectived raised an eyebrow at Donovan's glare before answering in a pompous voice:
'' Of course, I know. I always do know what's going on with me... Just a few hurting ribs, I guess and scratches on my face. But these wounds are minor...and so are Watson's! So, I guess with all that being said, I can get out of bed!''

He began to turn on his bed and stretch his legs in order to touch the ground. He was always that bold... and he always had a deep pleasure in ignoring Anderson.

It's better for my health.

"Then I'll be more careful. What else can I say?" John muttered to Anderson.

Well, I could say a lot of things. But I won't.

He then just nodded sleepily at what Donovan said.

"Yeah, of course", he replied to Sherlock.

Ouch. How can that possibly hurt?

He turned to Sherlock after he removed his hand.

"That's fine. And yes, we are in perfect shape. We can leave", he said and sat up in his bed, not quite ready to stand up, which Sherlock seemed to be doing.

[i]Anderson smirked
"Well if you feel up to chasing maniacs you're up to coming with us to the office and filling out your health reports yourselves. Besides looking at these records" He gestured to the clipboard at the bottom of John's bed "You two are in no state to go anywhere, especially John. Despite what you think, and despite the fact both Donovan and myself just love seeing you struggle, it is against my better judgement, and the hospitals, to let you leave."
"That's right!" A cheerful, round faced doctor chimed - seemingly arriving from no where "You better sit back down on the bed sir, we still have a lot of tests awaiting results and a lot more things to do to patch you up" He patted John's head almost fondly then left. Anderson smirked and turned back to John
"You of all people should know a doctor knows what he's talking about"

Sally can't quite supress a small giggle at Anderson's comment, as unprofessional as it sounds.
"No," she tells him, trying hard to keep a straight face "I'm all for the struggling. Could do with the entertainment"
Come on, Sally. Be nice.
To be fair, this pair of idiots have got you stuck with mountains of paperwork. It's not entirely uncalled for. They can take it.
"Anyway," she adds, this time actually speaking with sincerity "You actaully can come up to Scotland Yard once you're in a fit state, and help us straighten things out."
She pauses, and remembers to close the loopholes around the self-proclaimed 'genius'. Ha.
"And that was an order, not a request."
She glances sideways at Anderson, and flashes him a brief, slightly smug, smile.

Sherlock just glared at her. And as he tried to stand up, putting down his right foot on the floor, he screamed and fell back onto the bed. Quite ashamed to say..enough to not look at all the others, just staring at his own feet as if it could help...

I can't believe I...Yes I can, with all those ribs...and..wounds....but still! I wanna get out of here!

''Such a prison''he mumbled.

He then looked up to Donovan and replied bitterly *probably due to the humiliation and the pain*: ''Did I ever listen to whatever the Law had to say? Not much...so don't expect me to go just because you ordered me around. I don't listen to people who got their diplomas out of cheerios surprise boxes. ''

He then looked at Anderson and replied :''And no, I won't go and fill your stupid little paperworks... I thought when you took that job, it was your job to do. Maybe Laws have changed... Oh yeah, you people change the laws just so they can fit your little lives better..right...I remember...''

Gosh..why am I so mean? Probably the effects pain has on my brain....if not left alone the..humiliation..anyways.

He laid back down on the bed as if he had never tried to stand up *hopefully, those babbling frogs would forget it..*, and gazed at Watson:''Watson, since it's true, you're a doctor...what are you saying about our conditions? We're ready to go..right?''

His eyes had this ''subtle'' message of ''Say like I say or I'll leave you alone in here''.

"We are in asbolute state to leave right now", John lied. No, they weren't, and he knew that, but Sherlock wanted to get outta there, and so did he.

John raised his eyebrows up high as the doctor patted his head.

Seriously?

"Sometimes. Sometimes a doctor knows what he's talking about", he replied to Anderson.

Well, we surely won't come to Scotland Yard, if Sherlock has anything to say about it.

He turned to Sherlock again as he asked him a question.

"Yes, Sherlock. I believe we are ready to go", he lied again. That was obviously the message that he was sending with eyes.

[i]" You and I both know that isn't true. But fine, go ahead. I'm perfectly happy watching you suffer. But John would you be happy knowing you are letting Sherlock Holmes run after a maniac who nearly killed him when he was perfectly healthy? Surely he is even more likely to die when he's injured?" Anderson had meant to sound almost caring, but a slightly smug undertone snuck through once again.

"Don't think you're above the law, freak," Sally retorts, getting sick of Sherlock's constant whining and belittling of everyone. Her voice rises in frustration "Lestrade might turn a blind eye, but he isn't the ruling force of the police. Also, nobody wants you to do their jobs, and we are actually aware that occasional deskwork is an element of them."
Calm down. Calm.
Her voice switches from angry to falsely polite, verging on sarcastic, but not quite.
"All that is wanted is the routine interview that every single person connected with criminal activity goes through. We will take no more of your time than absolutely necessary, I can assure you."
She turns to Anderson, rolling her eyes. She wants nothing more than to stalk out of that ward right then, dragging him with her, and go and find a little bit of sanity.
Damn, the pub idea was not looking so bad, even at this time in the morning.
She turns to John, unable to contain herself, agreeing whole-heartedly with her colleague beside her.
"Have you lost your mind?" she asks, an incredulous expression creeping across her features. "Anderson's right, the pair of you can barely walk, you don't need to be a doctor to see that. I thought you were the sensible one."
Her incredulousness quickly turns to glee as a thought occurs, and as she crosses the ward to get the medical files and leave, she voices it, almost tempted to poke her tongue out at the consulting detective. She resists.
"You do know you can't go until the doctor in charge discharges you, right?" A small bubble of laughter escapes her lips "See ya."
She waves the file she's just collected cheerfully at the three men with a sardonic smile, walks the last few steps to the door, and goes, slamming it behind her

''Oh, Anderson..please STOP with those whiny comments of yours! How a man is supposed to get better with you around?!''Sherlock retorted bitterly to Anderson.

Then he glared at him. A bit.

''Oh I don't think I am. I simply am...for a matter of fact, I was the one to at least get near that maniac...not you who work with the Law.he said in a voice filled with ..disdain.

He never really liked police force. Plus, those who he had met weren't all that bright....like Anderson or Donovan. Though, Lestrade was his fave....but still, he wasn't oh so better than the rest...but a tad bit.

''oh, no no, we can walk.''he said, trying to better his situation...

Though, he knew deep down he wasn't SO able to do it...but he wouldn't let his pride down so easily. Not with a good mental fight and physical also. He looked at Donovan as she went for the files, and his eyes began to widen...

Oh that's not good...no, that's really not good...! I don't like her...

''DONOVAN!!!''he screamed as she headed for the door with his right arm fully stretched in front of him as in a mean to catch her before she went away.

At the same time, he had stood up but as soon as he walked a few steps, his legs and ribs couldn't medically take the shock so he fell brusquely to the ground in a loud thud, face first.

''Ouch....''

Bitch....

John stayed quiet. They were sort of making sence, but what good would it do for anyone if they'd just lie in their beds all day long?

As Donovan asked if he had lost his mind, he shook his head.

"Nah, there's still something there", he joked as knocked on his head and then smiled. "I am the sensible one!", he then groaned.

"Yes, we can walk", he nodded at what Sherlock said, but didn't feel the need to prove that... Yet, anyway.

He sighed as Sherlock fell to the floor, face first.

"Are you okay?"

Anderson nearly went to help him up but stopped himself just in time. He didn't want to help that creature up. He smirked and lightly poked Sherlock with the tip of his shoe
"Nice going Holmes. Need a hand?" He deliberately teased, knowing Sherlock would rather struggle than accept help from him. John looked rather distraught and Donovan was smirking at Anderson's prodding.
God i love that smile.
Anderson aimed a mock swipe at the detective's head. He very narrowly missed him as he slowly pulled himself higher. Anderson grinned at the detective's scowl.

''Myeah...I'm okay, Watson. Perfectly fine.''groaned Sherlock. Though his sentence had ended in a perfectly usual tone of voice as he had raised his head up as to see a bit better of the surroundings....

He then ignored Anderson as he slowly and painfully stood up, taking hold of the bed's metallic bars as a support. He then carefully and he hoped, subtedly, stumbled backwards to his bed on which he sat back on.

''Oh and Anderson. Two things. First, it is really impolite to poke someone, even more with one's dirty shoe; it just goes to demonstrate how your mother probably was so over with you... Second, please, clean your shoes before entering some places. There were some stains of mud on their tips, though tiny, they're still annoying.''

Then, with a so not happy attitude, he keeps on staring at Anderson.

I really have to find a way to get out of here... But now that annoying miss Donovan got away with the medical files.... it's gonna take a long time...think, Sherlock, think...there's always a way.....

''Anderson! Get out of my view, you're making it hard to concentrate properly!''

John just watched calmly the scene between Sherlock and Anderson.

"Good", he nodded as Sherlock informed that he was okay, though he might be lying.

He almost stood up and Sherlock seemed to be struggling, but then he got up.

He chuckled quietly at what his friend said to Anderson.

Well, I might as well rest as much as I can now, because Sherlock will come up with something sooner or later.

He laid down more comfortably on the bed. Though hospital beds weren't exactly the comfiest beds in the world.

[i]Anderson rolled his eyes but stepped out of his line of vision. An irritated bastard was even harder to deal with than an arogant bastard. He rolled his eyes at the comment about his shoes and instead decided to go talk to a nurse about raising the security on their unit. Security against the patients themselves.
"John, although you insist on pleasing the detective Please insure he doesn't do anything stupid."
[i]Like perhaps running out of the hospital and collapse in the road. Although that was a pleasant thought...

Sherlock was massaging his temples with the tips of his fingers, trying to find a clever way to get out of this miserable place.

''Oh, please, Anderson! I never do anything stupid. It always gets me some good information at the end..Haven't you never noticed that? Oh, probably don't since you,ve got your diploma out of a cheerios box... Sorry, my bad. I had forgotten.''

He looked up at Anderson and smiled a bit. As if he were as innocent as a child... Though, sometimes it wasn't too far-fetched from reality. He had also stopped massaging his temples...

Gosh..he even reinforced security..dammit....I really need to find a way..and quick!

"I sure will, Anderson", John just mumbled from his bed, closing his eyes.

Maybe it would actually be good to stay here a bit. Well, not like, long, but a few hours. I don't feel all hey-let's-go-and-run-after-a-maniac-even-though-we-just-barely-survived-a-pretty-sticky-situation.

But though he realized that they needed to get out of there, he knew Sherlock would probably ask for his help without hesitation if he needed it. So he just laid there and dreamed about being actually able to sleep and take it easy. Well, that wasn't what he did. Around Sherlock, anyway.

[i] Anderson smirked as John drifted off to sleep
"Doesn't look like he's in a fit state to go anywhere. If i find out you leave i'll come back with hand cuffs and a liscense to kill" Anderson half joked and spun on his heel to face the door
"At least give him a few hours" With that he left.