SHERLOCK - And Here's a Hand, My Trusty Friend ch8

John hadn't meant to be heard.

As a general rule, things went better for him if he remained silent. Stay quiet. Stay low. Stay still. That was his mantra.

Not that his life was anything exciting anyway. Especially not since Harry left a year and a half ago.

Not that he could blame her.

Harry left two days before her seventeenth birthday. She and John had been goofing off, playing mum’s old records, dancing and singing around the tiny flat. There had been teasing and name calling, and secrets shared and laughter.

John told Harry some of the lads on his rugby team had snuck their mum’s cigarettes. He had tried them, but hated them. Harry admitted she thought she had a crush on her best friend Amber. They were going out for pizza to celebrate her birthday, and Harry was going to try to sneak a kiss.

John had giggled at first, but had grown very serious. “It’s okay, Harry.”

“Ish? What do you mean?” Harry frowned slightly.

With a blush, John ducked his head. “I just… I hope she loves you back.”

With a grin, Harry threw her arms around her little brother. “Ish. You’re the best. I’m going to make sure and bring you back some pizza, okay?”

“If you’re not too busy kissing Amber!” John taunted, making kissy noises. Harry shoved him away with a laugh and then lunged after him. “Harry loves Amber! Harry loves Amber!” John laughed as they tumbled to the floor in a heap of elbows and playful punches.

“What the hell is going on here?” Jonathan Watson chose that moment to burst through the front door in a drunken rage. He took in the site of Harry and John wrestling on the floor as the playful words died on John’s lips. He had pulled Harry up by her hair and smacked her hard. He shoved her into the wall and let her slide to the floor.

“What did you just say?” He turned on John with a roar, pulling him up by his neck. “What. Did. You. Say.” John didn’t fight back, he simply bit his lip and averted his eyes, provoking even more wrath. Jonathan growled and shook him twice.

“Let him go!” Harry screamed, standing to her feet. She dove to John’s aid, but Jonathan was quicker, and backhanded her. She crumpled to the floor, and Jonathan dropped John. He took one step toward her, and John found his voice.

“Run, Harry. Please, go!” John cried. “Run!” With tears running down her face and her lip split, Harry shook her head to say no. “Harry!” John pleaded as pulled on Jonathan’s arm.

“John…” Harry wept as she dashed to the door. “I’ll be back, okay? I won’t leave you here. I swear!” Jonathan had slammed the door and locked it as Harry screamed for her brother from the hallway.

She hadn’t come back.

She’d called John on her birthday, and promised. “Soon.” He thought she’d slurred her words, but he’d convinced himself he had misheard.

John had gone to the bookstore to see Harry. She wouldn’t tell him where she was saying. “Safer if you don’t know,” she’d reasoned. John had frowned. “Ish, please. I’m working as hard as I can, and I’m going to save up, and I’ll come and get you, okay? I promise. But not yet.”

Not yet had turned into months. And now a year and a half later, John hadn’t spoken to Harry for six weeks. Or was it seven? She’d not been to the bookstore for three months.

Mr. Shamrock had taken pity, and hired John in her absence.

And now it was the second Christmas Eve since Harry left. John had spent the morning working at the shop, and had come home in high spirits just after noon. He hummed cheerfully as he felt the small box in his coat pocket. He’d found Harry the perfect gift, and she’d promised she would come. John unlocked the door to the flat with a grin, and stepped right into the path of Jonathan’s wrath.

The beating hadn’t lasted long, but it had been fierce. John had cried out, incurring greater fury. Jonathan wore himself out and left John in a heap on the floor, storming from the flat.

John remained on the floor, and waited until he heard Jonathan out on the street. He moved to drag himself off the floor, and cried out in pain once more.

“John? Dear, is that you?”

John swore under his breath. Jonathan had failed to pull the door closed, and now Mrs. McMillan was going to see the results of the drunken rages.

There was a reason John played rugby.

No one questioned the co-captain of the rugby team when he turned up with bruises, cuts and sprains. Dedication they called it. And everyone bought it.

Or so he thought.

“John? Sweetheart, I won’t come in, but my Joel is home for Christmas. I’m going to send him over, okay? He’s a doctor.” Before John could respond, he heard Mrs. McMillan open the door of her flat and call for her son.

Mumbled voices, and quick tap on the door later, and Joel McMillan stepped into the flat. “Hey, mate. Wow, you’ve grown. It’s been a long time, yeah? You're what, 15 now?” Joel’s smile wavered, and his eyes gleamed with anger, as he crouched to meet John’s eyes.

“Uhm… Yeah. 14 actually. Hey, Joel.” Humiliated, John tried to sit up. He hissed in pain.

“Let me help?” Joel carefully lifted John off the floor and guided him to one of the mismatched straight back chairs around the table. “Looks like you’re favoring that wrist. Let me take a look?”

John hesitated, but held his right arm out. Joel took his time prodding and inspecting his hand, wrist and arm. “Well, I don’t think it’s broken, but that’s a pretty nasty sprain. I can wrap it for you, and patch up that cut on your face if you’d like.” Joel spoke softly, though his features were hardened. “But I’d rather take you to the A&E…”

“No! No… Please…” John glanced at the door in a panic.

“Okay… All right, John. No hospital. Just… Stay put, yeah? I’ll be right back.” Joel smiled sadly as he stood. “Right back.”

Moments later Joel returned with a first aid kit and a bag of ice. Mr. McMillan followed behind with two wrapped plates. Setting the plates on the table, Mr. McMillan looked John up and down, cleared his throat and blinked rapidly. “Joel’s the best there is, lad. He’s going to fix you right up.” He turned quickly and strode through the door.

Joel chuckled. “Dad’s a sentimental one.”

John sighed in response. “So… Where’ve you been, Joel?”

Taking John’s wrist gently, Joel began wrapping it in a bandage. As he worked he told John of adventures he’d had in India, Indonesia, and the Sudan, as he travelled with Doctors Without Borders. “Mum tells me you’re going to be a doctor too.” Joel smiled. “The MSF could always use more help.”

“I’m gonna join the RAMC. They… they’ll pay for school, and… and, I can be a surgeon.” Suddenly bashful, John turned his face away.

“That is a fantastic idea. Here, hold this in place.” Joel grinned at John, and placed the ice pack on his wrist. He inspected John’s face. “This might sting.” He set to work on the cut on John’s cheek. “You know, we can always use good surgeons too. Once you’re tired of saving the world with the big guns, you can come and save it with your hands.”

“Really?” John smiled. “I… Maybe.” He nodded. “Maybe.”

“Keep us in mind, yeah?” Joel stood up to wash his hands. He turned to face John once more. “So, mum thought you might like some lunch. You wanna join us over there? Or…” He motioned to the plates.

“I think I’ll stay here. Harry… Harry’s s’pose to come.” John stood suddenly and snatched his coat off the floor. He dug in the pockets until he found the small package. It was only kind of crumpled. John sighed.

“Fair enough.” Joel unwrapped both plates and pulled his chair up to the table. “Come on then. I’m starving.”

“You… you don’t have to stay here.” John watched Joel take a bite of his sandwich.

“If I go back over there, mum’s going to make me bake cookies, so…” Joel shrugged with a smile.

John laughed. “God forbid.” He dropped into his chair and placed the gift gingerly on the table.

“Hey, that reminds me,” Joel dug in his pocket and pulled out something wrapped in green tissue paper. “I uhm… Mum and dad got me a knew one for Christmas, and I wanted this one to go to a good home. I know you’ll take care of it.” Joel placed the poorly wrapped bundle next to John’s plate.

“Joel, you didn’t have to. I don’t…”

“It’s nothing, really. I just noticed you didn’t seem to have one. And this one is used. Just… take it, yeah?” Joel nodded.

Very carefully, John pulled the paper loose to reveal the most beautiful gold watch he’d ever seen. “Joel…” John gasped.

“It’s nothing, really. Just promise you’ll take care of it, okay?”

“Of course. Yes I will.” John nodded with a sniff. “It’s beautiful. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Happy Christmas, mate.”

“You too, Joel.”