Sherlock: The Next Generation

Chapter 19

Chapter 19

It took Martin two days to wake up.

Hamish sat beside his hospital bed after school, pretending to read his book. He wasn't really. But he had to pretend to do something. Papa had said that it wasn't healthy for him to just mope about and do nothing. But that was all he wanted to do. He couldn't concentrate in school. Not when he knew that Martin was lying in hospital. Nobody had owned up to the bullying. But really everyone knew who it had been. They just couldn't prove it until Martin woke up. Hamish knew this irritated both of his dads. John had had to confiscate Sherlock's computer to stop him from sending blackmail to any of the bullies parents. Supposedly it was unorthodox or something.

Nobody else really noticed Martin's absence in school. After all he hadn't really spoken to anyone. At all. He preferred to keep to himself. Karina had come up to Hamish only yesterday and asked after Martin, appearing worried. Hamish found it rather suspicious. She barely spoke to him in school yet they seemed to be friends. It just didn't make sense. Not really.

"Mish?" Hamish dropped his book at the sound of the quiet, slightly cracked voice and shot towards the bed.

"Marti! How are you feeling?" Hamish looked down into the finally open eyes of his twin. Martin gave him a small smile.

"Everything hurts."

"It will get better. The doctor said you could come home a few days after waking up."

"Good," Martin made a slight grimace, wrinkling his nose. "I don't like hospitals... Everything is so white."

"Daddy doesn't like them either," Hamish looked slightly amused.

"Where is Daddy? And Papa?"

"Daddy just went out to get some tea. Papa is at home with Molly. Daddy will be back soon."

Martin nodded slightly, yawning. "How long was I... asleep?"

"Just over two days."

"Oh."

"Marti... Who did this to you?" Hamish gently took his twin's hand, looking at him in a worried manner.

"I don't want to say, Mish."

"Please tell me. If you don't they'll still be there when you go back to school." Martin winced.

"I don't want to go back."

"I don't want to go either. Maybe we can run away together and become pirates."

"Yeh," Martin laughed quietly. "Papa would get annoyed, though. Worried that we would hurt ourselves or something.

Hamish nodded. "So who did it."

"Jason and his friends."

"Thought so. Daddy was going to blackmail their parents."

"Really?"

"Yeh." Hamish shrugged slightly, grabbing his chair and pulling it closer to the bed so he could sit right next to Martin. After a few minutes of silence Sherlock came back, colourful eyes flickering to Martin. A sense of relief filled them and he quickly phoned John before fussing over his son.

Hamish told his Papa who had landed Martin in hospital when they got home. Sherlock had insisted that it was his turn to stay the night in hospital and sent John home, claiming that he needed to sleep. This had irritated John. But he couldn't exactly argue. Martin would be home in a few days, anyway.

"So it was the people that everyone suspected," John narrowed his eyes. Hamish nodded. John stood, moving to grab his cloak as he checked his watch. "I'm going out. I shouldn't be more than an hour, Hamish. Don't do anything stupid." Hamish nodded again, slightly confused as to where his Papa would be going. Ah well, he would find out later.

John practically stormed out of the flat, flagging down a taxi impatiently and getting in. The school shouldn't be closed yet. The taxi took too long, getting stuck at traffic light after traffic light. John got more and more irritated. It was as if it was all against him. He almost breathed a sigh of relief once he reached the school. He strode in purposefully. If the bullies hadn't been expelled by the time he left then he had failed as a father. Nobody beat up his little boy and got away with it. Nobody.

Martin came home three days after waking up. Sherlock fussed over him like a mother hen would her ducklings, insisting on carrying him into the flat. Martin didn't argue. There wasn't really any point. If Sherlock had his mind set on something you didn't argue.

John was walking right behind, constantly telling Sherlock to be careful. Making sure that he wasn't hurting. Hamish found it rather amusing as he brought up the rear, carrying Martin's crutches. His legs were bad enough damaged to warrant their use. If he ever got to walk. Which he probably wouldn't be able to do.

It was lucky that his right arm was broken. Martin was left handed so it meant that he could still write. And draw. That would be more important to him. He wouldn't be able to play the violin for a while, though.

Sherlock gently put Martin down on the sofa and told him that he wasn't to do anything strenuous until he got better. Martin agreed quite easily, lying down on the sofa. He felt surprisingly tired for one who had just come out of hospital. But he guessed that may be because of all his injuries.

Sleep did not come easy to Martin that night though. He only finally settled into a fitful sleep by concentrating on the slow, deep breathing of Hamish pretending to sleep (Martin knew that he was faking and would start reading as soon as he was sure that Martin was asleep). It worked well enough, letting Martin eventually lose himself in the darkness.

Then came the pain. A constant pain punctured by shouted abuse. It was happening again. No, it couldn't be happening again. He didn't understand it. Why was it happening again? Wasn't once enough. Martin whimpered, desperately trying to escape.

He woke in cold sweat, his breathes coming out ragged and quick. He glanced to the side, noticing Hamish standing at his beside with worry creasing his face. This was lit up by a torch in his left hand. He had obviously been reading.

"Are you ok, Marti?" he asked in a whisper, a light frown marring his lips.

"Just a nightmare," Martin mumbled back, bringing his knees up to his chest. He doubted he would sleep again. Hamish tilted his head, gently slipping onto Martin's bed. He moved to sit next to his twin, putting a gently arm around Martin. Martin turned slightly so he was hugging Hamish.

"We could read my book together."

"That would be nice."

John slowly opened the door an hour later, hearing the murmured words coming from the twins' bedroom. Both looked at him, rather shocked, once he entered. He could sense Hamish taking in his appearance; the messed up hair, sloppily pulled on pyjamas. John sincerely hoped that Hamish didn't try to guess what he had been up to. That would not be good.

"Martin had a nightmare," Hamish eventually piped up, tilting his head. John frowned.

"Marti... You could have come and got me or your daddy. How about you come sleep with us? That might help. There's not really room for two on your bed."

"Only if Mish comes," Martin replied softly. John nodded slightly. Hamish stood up swiftly, carefully pulling Martin after him. He supported the injured boy as they shuffled towards the door. John picked his mobile off of the dining room table as they went past, sending a quick text to Sherlock.

Martin and Hamish are coming to sleep with us -JW

He got a reply almost instantly.

I guess I'd better get some clothes on, then -SH

John smiled slightly, helping Martin up the stairs.

The twins both ended up getting back to sleep, curled up between their fathers. John shared a smile with Sherlock over their sons' heads before closing his own eyes. Everything was fine now. Martin would get better and everything would go back to normal.

Well as normal as it would ever get in the Watson-Holmes household.