Chapter Text
Chapter 11 – Isolated System
The first thing John noticed was a loud beeping. His head hurt, but not as much as the back of his neck and all the way down his spine. Taking inventory as his consciousness slowly started to rise, John was thankful he could still feel his toes and fingers. He remembered how numb his neck had felt lying against the wall in the exam room, and naturally his worst fear was that he was paralyzed by having the collar ripped out. Everything seemed okay though, and even his head ache was dying down a bit.
“I told you it was dangerous,” a voice, Sherlock’s John decided, was angry, “he flat lined for thirty seconds! John’s death would have been on your hands and everything I’ve worked for would have been ruined.”
John stayed quiet, listening to the beeping and arguing going on around him. The voices seemed far away, but he kept his eyes closed and breathing even, just in case.
“You’ve worked for?” Mycroft accused, “Do you think I have nothing invested in this, brother mine? Are you that ignorant? Or are you just blinded by your feelings for the boy?” Feelings? Yeah right? They have to know I’m listening. They’re just putting me on, now.
“Don’t you dare, ‘brother mine,’” Sherlock said, anger and disdain lacing his tone, “you have the exact same feelings. I saw how you almost ripped Magnussen’s head off back there.”
Mycroft sighed. John would bet everything he had, which isn’t really much but you get the fucking point, that the older Dom had that scowl on his face, making him look like he smelled something disgusting. “You and I both know how much is invested into this project. All of it lies on his head now, and if something happens to him-“
“How are you feeling, sweetie?” A woman’s voice asked, starting John enough that he opened his eyes on instinct. Shite! They didn’t know I was listening, but now…
“John?” Mycroft said, his tone already accusing. Yep, they definitely know now. The two Doms walked over from the corner of the room until Mycroft stood on one side of the bed and Sherlock on the other.
“How are you feeling?” Sherlock asked, shouldering his way in past the nurse. She glared at him for a moment, but knowing who the Holmes’ were, she scurried away.
“What happened?” John asked, as Sherlock ran his hand through the boy’s hair gently. Feelings? Really? As the hand trailed down over his ear, John shivered slightly until the hand came to rest upon a collar. When he tried to look down, however, searing pain shot through his neck, sending shockwaves all the way down to his toes. “Hnnng,” John whimpered, squeezing his eyes shut.
“Shhh,” Sherlock cooed, his voice barely above a whisper. John could feel as the hand on his cheek sent pulses of chemicals, which made his mind produce some much needed Bliss. “Don’t move around too much yet, John. Your neck is still healing, but you’re going to be fine. I promise.”
“That bastard,” John grumbled, touching the leather at the front of his neck.
“John,” Mycroft chastised, but the normal venom wasn’t there. The Dom sighed, gripping his umbrella in one hand and the railing of the bed in the other, his knuckles turning white. “I need to apologize for what happened back there.”
“You mean how I almost bled out because a Doctor at your facility ripped a collar out of my spine?” John asked, his voice as spiteful as his tired body would allow. This actually earned a snort from Sherlock, though the other brother didn’t seem to think his little outburst was amusing.
“I’m trying to apologize you…frustrating child,” Mycroft actually stuttered. John knew he’d really struck a nerve, which oddly enough didn’t give him the satisfaction he was hoping for. Perhaps it was the fact that Mycroft actually seemed to show a normal range of emotion, or that the collar had messed up his rational mind, but John wanted to forgive the man. Don’t you dare, John Watson!
“It’s okay.” Both Doms looked up, their eyes matching in confusion and oddly enough, suspicion. “I’m guessing by the way you almost punched Magnussen that you didn’t know he was a fuc-“ John paused, realizing it wasn’t best to push his luck right now, “umm, a uhh, lunatic.”
Mycroft studied him for a moment, then spoke, his voice kind. “No, I didn’t, but one of us should have been in there with you. We are your Doms now, and it was irresponsible of me and it won’t happen again.”
“So, umm, what happened to me?” John finally asked, already feeling tired. He blinked his eyes a few times and chewed on his tongue and lip a bit to keep his attention focused on what was happening.
“This collar is…special, one of a kind really. Essentially, it connects to your spinal column in order to gather data through your brainwaves, hormone spikes, etcetera.”
“Yeah,” John said, rolling his eyes in a startling Sherlock like way, “I know that, but why? Dr. Magnussen said it was an, umm, abomination, or something like that. Why? I mean, it sucks, but I would have thought Doms would be all gung-ho for something like this.”
Mycroft and Sherlock looked at each other for a long moment, having a silent conversation. “I almost died because of this bloody thing and you still want tell me what’s going on?”
“That’s enough, John,” Mycroft said, shaking his head at Sherlock. “I am your Dom and you are going to have to trust me.”
“Yeah?” John spat, trying to sit up, but winced at the pain. “Look at what good that did me? I died for thirty seconds because I trusted you! No, no,” John closed his eyes, swallowing before he spoke again, “I should have known better. You lot just can’t help yourselves, can you?” It was true, John knew, that every time he let go even a little bit, there would always be someone to grab it and yank it out from under him.
“John,” Sherlock spoke up this time, “I know you’re upset, and you should be but-“
“But what? ‘But you need to trust us. If not Mycroft than trust me,’” John mocked, making his town as deep as it would go, though it was nowhere near Sherlock’s baritone. “Bullocks! You can do whatever you want to me, but don’t act like you actually care about what happens to me. I know this collar around my neck is probably worth more quid than my life, so don’t even bother.” John’s anger flared. Not only did he almost die because of these Doms, but the two men didn’t even trust him enough to tell him what he almost died for!
“I see,” Mycroft stood up taller and motioned towards the door. Uh oh, this can’t be good. “I understand. The Doctor’s say we can take you home tonight. However, I thought you might do with some company while you wait.” John quirked an eyebrow at the statement, looking towards the door, but not willing to move any other muscles for fear of tugging on his collar.
“John!” A small voice shouted when the glass doors to the room opened. The teen’s face lite up when he saw Molly run into the room. It wasn’t necessarily the fact that she was so happy to see him that made John beam, but that she had on a brand new shirt, her hair and face were clean, and their seemed to be no bruises on her skin. The young girl was being well looked after by whoever Mycroft had given her to, which John would be forever grateful to the man for that kindness.
“Molly!” John said, his voice light as the little girl tried to jump up on the bed. She was halted, however, by Sherlock, who picked her up under the arms and lifted her to sit on his hip. He placed one arm under her and one behind for support as the little girl wrapped a skinny arm around his neck.
“Sher,” Molly giggled when the tall Dom picked her up. She cupped her hand next to Sherlock ear and leaned in, telling the man a secret. He dutifully nodded his head, a serious expression on his face. John couldn’t help but grin. It was amazing to see Sherlock completely change gears for the sake of the little Sub.
“Oh, I see,” Sherlock said, nodding his head slowly, “Greg told you that?” he asked, already disapproving of what Molly had said. She gave a quick nod in response. “Well let’s make a deduction and see for ourselves then, yes.” Sherlock looked towards John, examining him clinically. “What do you think, Molly? Does John look hurt to you?”
“Hmm,” the little girl pondered, staring at John just as Sherlock had done, though her gaze was much less scary. “He looks sad,” she finally said, looking back at Sherlock. You have no idea, Molly.
“That’s because John’s neck was hurt in an accident, sweetheart. That’s why you need to be gentle and not yell, remember?” Greg answered, stepping into the room. John eyed the gray haired man suspiciously for a moment. They hadn’t been properly introduced, as the first time they met John had soap in his mouth. Molly looked healthier than John had ever seen her though so…well, the Dom might be sort of okay, for now.
“But he’ll be better soon, right?” the little girl asked, keeping her eyes on Sherlock. Damn, how does that guy have such a sweet little girl wrapped around his fingers?
“Of course he will. Do you doubt my caretaking skills, Molly?” Sherlock asked, tilting his head back in faux anger.
“No!” She protested seriously, making John laugh and wince at the same time. Molly looked down at him then back to Sherlock, cupping her hand again to tell the man a secret.
“Mmhm, mmhm, yes,” Sherlock continued nodding his head, “well I don’t see why not. You must be gently though, just like when you patched up Leopold, yes?” Molly nodded seriously again.
John’s smile widened with Sherlock placed the little Sub onto the bed. She rearranged herself to rest her head on the older boy’s chest with her toes hanging over the edge and her large eyes staring up at John. “Hello,” John laughed.
“Hi,” she said shyly, “does it hurt?”
“A little bit, but you being here helps,” John said, sparing a glance up at Mycroft. The teen nodded once in thanks, knowing Mycroft was the only one who had the power to set this meeting up. The Dom nodded back politely, then walked out of the room, motioning for Greg to follow.
“You be good, Molls. I’ll be right outside if you need anything,” Greg said, smiling at John, and then following Mycroft outside the room.
“Are you okay?” John asked, ignoring Sherlock’s presence completely. “Did they hurt you? Did they touch you?”
“I’m okay, John,” Molly said, sounding years older than her small body should’ve allowed. “I like Greg, he’s nice to me. But I miss you and J-“
“I know,” John cut in quickly. Although he was sure Sherlock already knew everything there was to know about John’s past, he didn’t want Molly think it was okay to talk about it in front of Doms. If something ever happened to him, God forbid, Molly would be on her own and who knows what kind of influences she’d have then. “I do too, love, I do too.” John reached his arm up slowly, rubbing his hand through her hair like he used to do when she had nightmare in the Pipes. He never told anyone, but it helped him fall asleep just as much as it did her.
After two minutes, Molly was snoring slightly and her breath had evened out enough that John knew she was asleep. “Thank you,” John said, keeping his eyes on Molly though his words were directed towards Sherlock. “She hasn’t experienced much kindness in her life, especially not from Doms. So…thanks,” he looked up to see Sherlock staring at him. It was a strange look, as if for the first time Sherlock didn’t know what to say.
“She’s, umm, a good girl and…Greg is taking care of her, just like Mycroft promised. As long as you stay with us, she’ll be safe.” Sherlock said, practically on auto pilot.
“Yeah, I know.” They sat there for a while, listening to the beeping from the monitors and the slight murmur from Greg and Mycroft talking outside. John’s eyes were growing heavy, as each blink grew longer and longer. “Sherlock?”
“Hmm?”
“Is this collar going to kill me?” Before Sherlock could answer, John drifted off to sleep.