ways_infirmary | (no subject)

Mycroft just glares at Guppy some more.

The British Government does not take well to being told what to do. By anybody.

"Thank you, Guppy."

He gives the doctor his best boyish smile. It's fairly convincing. He's been practising it on his flatmate.

"My brother means well. Don't you, Mycroft?"

"I'm sure he does." Guppy says, mildly, though he starts slightly when he catches the look.

"You'll stick like that if the wind changes." he says to Mycroft, then turns his attention back to Sherlock.

"Right. Looks like the bleeding is starting to slow down, so I think you're safe to lie back a bit, but keep your head on its side so that any blood drains forwards, okay?

Then we can have a go with these ribs. Now I can use future technology to fuse them if you want, which will heal them most of the way - you'll be sore for about a week but you shouldn't have much trouble with them. Or we can leave them and let nature take its course. They're not displaced or anything."

"Fuse away, doctor. And ignore him. He's really giddy as a school girl under all that. He got to wave a gun at someone."

Oops? Was that information confidential? Drat.

"Clearly, he was hit rather hard on the head," Mycroft says, with his pleasant smile back in place. "I think he misunderstood what he saw."

"Well keep your gun to yourself in here, this is a zero tolerance zone." Guppy says.

He'd rather not like to have to stun Mycroft. For one thing, he suspects he'd lose.

He gets the bone fuser out and sets the correct distance.

"All right, keep nice and still for me - keep your breathing slow and controlled so I can move with you. This will be a bit uncomfortable but it shouldn't hurt, so let me know if it does."

"Yes, mother."

It's unclear whether this is directed at Guppy or Mycroft, not that it matters.

He does as instructed, and the only indication that there's any pain at all is the tightness around his eyes.

Guppy does each rib for about a minute, then rescans them.

"Okay, those are fused up, you'll have to be gentle on them for the next week or two as they heal all the way, but they shouldn't hurt too much. How do they feel?"

"Like I've been hit by a lorry."

They may have entered the whinging stage of the programme. Possibly because he's clearly getting bored of the whole thing.

"So no judo between now and when?"

"I should think not," says Mycroft. "Although, I'm sure there's a cold case or two you could take a look at with your extra time."

He's learned how to deal with Sherlock's boredom. As well as it can be dealt with, anyway.

"Maybe I don't want to look at your cold cases, Mycroft. Did that thought ever occur to you? Maybe I just want to catch up on Britain's Got Talent and practise violin."

Brood, in other words.

"Those are both fine. Just don't do anything that puts undue pressure on them for the time being." Guppy says. "Whether it's martial arts, skydiving or annoying Gene Hunt. If you break them again when they're half healed, it's harder for me to fuse them again."

He puts the scanner away and gets the tooth from Work Experience Waitrat. He cleans it thoroughly.

"Okay, I'm afraid this bit is going to hurt." he says, "But not for too long."

Once Sherlock is ready, he reinserts the tooth.

"I was thinking more along the lines of asking that Inspector you're always running around with," Mycroft says once Sherlock is able to listen again.

"But very well. Do you have it here, or should I have it delivered?"

Sherlock can't answer, as Guppy has his hands in his mouth.

He waves a hand that Mycroft might interpret as meaning he needs it delivered.

There is a moment when he goes still as the tooth is reinserted. The pain makes him go white as a sheet.

"All done." Guppy says gently, putting the head of Sherlock's bed back a bit now that the bleeding has stopped. He cleans up Sherlock's face.

"You can stay here and rest as long as you want or need. Do you have a room here?"

Well, that's something that Mycroft never wants to bear witness to ever again. It feels like a bit of a failure on his part that this whole mess happened at all.

"I'll see to it that your things are delivered," he says to Sherlock as he rises to his feet.

"Wait. Don't go."

Oh sitting up that quickly was a bad idea. Sherlock fades back to the bed, glaring up at the fluorescent lights of the infirmary like they're the sole cause of his now splitting headache.

"Thank you, Doctor. Just, give me a moment. I'll go with you." His tone is a bit quieter than usual, as if talking itself was painful.

Mycroft waits by the door for Sherlock to get his head together. He hasn't heard this tone come from his brother in a very long time, and it's rather alarming to hear it now.

"Of course," he says.

He watches for any indicator that Sherlock might want a bit of help back onto his feet, but doesn't offer in order to spare his pride.

Edited 2011-05-23 04:33 (UTC)

Guppy gets Sherlock a glass of water.

"Take your time." he says, firmly. "Just because we patched you up doesn't change the fact that you've just sustained a significant beating. Considering it was Gene you were fighting, you've done better than most."

He tidies up the equipment and enters the paperwork. 'Fight with Gene Hunt' has been such a frequent cause of admission that it now has its own code.