Prompt 30: The Nurse
Title: The Nurse
Author: arwen_kenobi
Rating: G
'Verse: BBC Sherlock
Word Count: 1555
Characters/Pairings: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, Original Character
Summary: She's done a good job of keeping a professional distance from her patients over the years. Mostly because once she knew that she couldn't she'd changed careers. What gets to her about John Watson and his family is that there's hope. In the same universe as The Space Between, Brave New World, and Resurrection Fern but can be read on its own.
Author's Notes: For prompt 30 of watsons_woes July Writing Prompts. This one was: Write a story from a minor character's point of view, where he or she sees something similar between him/herself and Sherlock Holmes.
Marion Edwards had lost her husband to traumatic brain injury when she was forty-six years old. She's then handed in her resignation to the trauma unit she worked on and spent the rest of her nursing career working with mothers and babies. She'd had no real intention to return to work after an injury - she'd been hit by an ambulance the day before her fifty sixth birthday - but the state of the world's economy being what it was decided that she might as well work until she was old enough to not be allowed near patients anymore. Besides, sitting around her empty house all day waiting for a call from her sons and watching telly was boring as anything.
She had sworn she would never work around brain injury victims again, not after what she had gone through with Roger, but she gathered it was time enough to make her peace with that. It also had been the only hospital, and a private one specializing in head and brain trauma at that, that had shown any interest in hiring a fifty eight year old with a slight limp that would surely be leaving them before she turned sixty-five. The money was also fantastic.
She's done a good job of keeping a professional distance from her patients over the years. Mostly because once she knew that she couldn't she'd changed careers. Now it's almost sad how easy she can disconnect from the patients that come her way now. Almost all are here because of accidents - accidents very similar to Roger's - and by the time the end up here they are either destined to be permanent residents or move Upstairs. What gets to her about John Watson and his family is that there's hope.
Marion did the admission herself a phone call with a man named Mycroft Holmes arranging for a transfer for John Watson from one of the big London hospitals. She has already received the paperwork and his files and gets the room ready. It's one of the nicer ones. The window faces the back garden and the nearest neighbour is actually around the corner in the next hall. Very private. It's also one of the larger ones so she wonders exactly how many people will be camping out.
When John Watson and family arrive it's really John, who looks impossibly young given his date of birth, and a shadow of a man who follows John down the hall. Her hand is out to grab him, to tell him that visitors have free reign once the patients are settled, but she freezes in mid grab. She barely gets a look at the man properly but it's the look in his eyes and the expression on his face that get her. She's seen variants of it many, many, times over her career but this is the first time since Roger died that she's recognized that look of worry, protectiveness, and hard-headedness that she remembers from her own face in the hospital loo mirrors when Roger was first taken in.
It's that hope, Marion knows. The hope that your beloved, because that's what John Watson is to this man and she doesn't need Mycroft Holmes to tell her who and what Sherlock Holmes is, can meet this and match it. There is despair but there is hope. So much hope. Marion wore that expression up until the news that Roger would never wake up. Even wore it as she shut the machines off and watched the husk of a man that had been her loving husband breathe its last. This man, Sherlock, would do the same and wear the same expression. She recognizes that in him as well.
Not him too, she promises as she sees Mycroft Holmes off. Marion Edwards may not be a doctor but she makes the promise anyway that John Watson will wake. That he is not destined for Upstairs.
=====================================================================================
It takes her about twenty four hours to clue in that they are that Sherlock Holmes and John Watson. It shouldn't make her heart hurt that much more but it does. These two have done a world of good for so many - it would be the will of the universe to do this to them.
Sherlock is actually rather quiet, which is surprising considering the blog and the book John has written, and what she can discern from Google. The previous hospital, in fact several hospitals, send her notes of caution and warning about both of them. Sherlock's treatment of hospital staff is less than kind and even John has been a nuisance on occasion. Apparently the last time that they were both hospitalized they were sent to different ones and John actually managed to break out, get a cab, and get into Sherlock's room without being detected until the next morning. That is impressive.
He's being careful. Marion remembers that stage fondly as well. In her case it had been because Roger had been a patient in her own hospital. She had to be dignified, had to keep herself in check and not go full grieving widow or mad hovering visitor right away. Sherlock is holding himself in check for different reasons - this truly terrifying brother of his for one, the presence of John's sister due to a paperwork mix up another but he knows that he's on thin ice. Being removed from the hospital will kill him.
She doesn't speak to Sherlock outside of anything strictly affecting treatment. She'd hated it when the staff would chat to her, those she knew and those she didn't, so she kept things professional while at the same time making sure John was comfortable and that Sherlock is left alone. This is surprisingly difficult to do when it comes to Mycroft Holmes but Marion finds herself more than up to the task. She also helps him get the armchair in and keeps the fact that he has a violin on hand mum until he snaps, as most visitors do, and starts sawing at the thing like he's trying to kill everyone with sound. Marion steals it back and gives it back to him along with the schedule, highlighting when The Powers That Be are not in the building. Sherlock, of course, has already deduced that but thanks her for her efforts.
All in all though, even when Marion has nothing better to do and has a light patient load, the best she can do for John Watson and Sherlock Holmes is to not be in the room. The two of them, even with one so far away while being so close, are their own universe. That and Marion is already triggered enough being around Sherlock when he's not pleading, no matter what he may say otherwise it is nothing else but pleading, for John to wake up. To come back to him. To follow his voice home.
The hope there is too much for Marion sometimes. She is perhaps more overjoyed than Sherlock when she tells him that there's no chance of John heading Upstairs. It's not the best of news, she cannot promise him waking up unchanged, but the light in Sherlock's eyes, the light that she wishes could have been allowed to dance in hers, tells her that that's enough for now.
The day after she tells Sherlock this she makes a stop to visit Roger Edwards' grave. Her boys have been by, she can tell by the shine on the headstone and the replaced flowers. She starts to talk about Sherlock and John to him and how much they remind her of them. "Really Sherlock does since I haven't spoken to John," she admits. "I'd very much like that opportunity if you have any pull up there, love. Sherlock would be over the moon, too."
Hers and Sherlock's destinies are already different but she doesn't want to see what happens to that hope in his eyes, the hope and pride and love that will never leave him no matter what, if John wakes up worse than he started.
=====================================================================================
She's on evening shift when it happens. She's preparing to shift some of the flowers that Sherlock and Harry have been arranging in John's room toward the window. The scent really is getting to be much, especially the golden rod. She's nearly at the door when she hears Sherlock talking...and then John answering.
He's speaking slowly, slurred, and with a bit of a stammer. Normal though. He also answers the big question by naming himself and Sherlock. She knows she should go and do checks. Alert the doctor and Harry and Mycroft. Instead, as she hears Sherlock tell him to get some sleep and that they'll both be there in the morning, she takes a walk to the break room and hauls out the afghan one of the girls left as a parting gift when she moved on. She lays it across Sherlock and resists the urge to ruffle his hair or plant a kiss on the top of his head. He's already lighter, happier, and oh so victorious. Marion hasn't felt victorious in a good long while but she's glad that this has ended, or is going to end, the way it looks.
She turns her attention to John. "Well done, you," she whispers as she taps his hand. "Well done, you."
Author: arwen_kenobi
Rating: G
'Verse: BBC Sherlock
Word Count: 1555
Characters/Pairings: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, Original Character
Summary: She's done a good job of keeping a professional distance from her patients over the years. Mostly because once she knew that she couldn't she'd changed careers. What gets to her about John Watson and his family is that there's hope. In the same universe as The Space Between, Brave New World, and Resurrection Fern but can be read on its own.
Author's Notes: For prompt 30 of watsons_woes July Writing Prompts. This one was: Write a story from a minor character's point of view, where he or she sees something similar between him/herself and Sherlock Holmes.
Marion Edwards had lost her husband to traumatic brain injury when she was forty-six years old. She's then handed in her resignation to the trauma unit she worked on and spent the rest of her nursing career working with mothers and babies. She'd had no real intention to return to work after an injury - she'd been hit by an ambulance the day before her fifty sixth birthday - but the state of the world's economy being what it was decided that she might as well work until she was old enough to not be allowed near patients anymore. Besides, sitting around her empty house all day waiting for a call from her sons and watching telly was boring as anything.
She had sworn she would never work around brain injury victims again, not after what she had gone through with Roger, but she gathered it was time enough to make her peace with that. It also had been the only hospital, and a private one specializing in head and brain trauma at that, that had shown any interest in hiring a fifty eight year old with a slight limp that would surely be leaving them before she turned sixty-five. The money was also fantastic.
She's done a good job of keeping a professional distance from her patients over the years. Mostly because once she knew that she couldn't she'd changed careers. Now it's almost sad how easy she can disconnect from the patients that come her way now. Almost all are here because of accidents - accidents very similar to Roger's - and by the time the end up here they are either destined to be permanent residents or move Upstairs. What gets to her about John Watson and his family is that there's hope.
Marion did the admission herself a phone call with a man named Mycroft Holmes arranging for a transfer for John Watson from one of the big London hospitals. She has already received the paperwork and his files and gets the room ready. It's one of the nicer ones. The window faces the back garden and the nearest neighbour is actually around the corner in the next hall. Very private. It's also one of the larger ones so she wonders exactly how many people will be camping out.
When John Watson and family arrive it's really John, who looks impossibly young given his date of birth, and a shadow of a man who follows John down the hall. Her hand is out to grab him, to tell him that visitors have free reign once the patients are settled, but she freezes in mid grab. She barely gets a look at the man properly but it's the look in his eyes and the expression on his face that get her. She's seen variants of it many, many, times over her career but this is the first time since Roger died that she's recognized that look of worry, protectiveness, and hard-headedness that she remembers from her own face in the hospital loo mirrors when Roger was first taken in.
It's that hope, Marion knows. The hope that your beloved, because that's what John Watson is to this man and she doesn't need Mycroft Holmes to tell her who and what Sherlock Holmes is, can meet this and match it. There is despair but there is hope. So much hope. Marion wore that expression up until the news that Roger would never wake up. Even wore it as she shut the machines off and watched the husk of a man that had been her loving husband breathe its last. This man, Sherlock, would do the same and wear the same expression. She recognizes that in him as well.
Not him too, she promises as she sees Mycroft Holmes off. Marion Edwards may not be a doctor but she makes the promise anyway that John Watson will wake. That he is not destined for Upstairs.
=====================================================================================
It takes her about twenty four hours to clue in that they are that Sherlock Holmes and John Watson. It shouldn't make her heart hurt that much more but it does. These two have done a world of good for so many - it would be the will of the universe to do this to them.
Sherlock is actually rather quiet, which is surprising considering the blog and the book John has written, and what she can discern from Google. The previous hospital, in fact several hospitals, send her notes of caution and warning about both of them. Sherlock's treatment of hospital staff is less than kind and even John has been a nuisance on occasion. Apparently the last time that they were both hospitalized they were sent to different ones and John actually managed to break out, get a cab, and get into Sherlock's room without being detected until the next morning. That is impressive.
He's being careful. Marion remembers that stage fondly as well. In her case it had been because Roger had been a patient in her own hospital. She had to be dignified, had to keep herself in check and not go full grieving widow or mad hovering visitor right away. Sherlock is holding himself in check for different reasons - this truly terrifying brother of his for one, the presence of John's sister due to a paperwork mix up another but he knows that he's on thin ice. Being removed from the hospital will kill him.
She doesn't speak to Sherlock outside of anything strictly affecting treatment. She'd hated it when the staff would chat to her, those she knew and those she didn't, so she kept things professional while at the same time making sure John was comfortable and that Sherlock is left alone. This is surprisingly difficult to do when it comes to Mycroft Holmes but Marion finds herself more than up to the task. She also helps him get the armchair in and keeps the fact that he has a violin on hand mum until he snaps, as most visitors do, and starts sawing at the thing like he's trying to kill everyone with sound. Marion steals it back and gives it back to him along with the schedule, highlighting when The Powers That Be are not in the building. Sherlock, of course, has already deduced that but thanks her for her efforts.
All in all though, even when Marion has nothing better to do and has a light patient load, the best she can do for John Watson and Sherlock Holmes is to not be in the room. The two of them, even with one so far away while being so close, are their own universe. That and Marion is already triggered enough being around Sherlock when he's not pleading, no matter what he may say otherwise it is nothing else but pleading, for John to wake up. To come back to him. To follow his voice home.
The hope there is too much for Marion sometimes. She is perhaps more overjoyed than Sherlock when she tells him that there's no chance of John heading Upstairs. It's not the best of news, she cannot promise him waking up unchanged, but the light in Sherlock's eyes, the light that she wishes could have been allowed to dance in hers, tells her that that's enough for now.
The day after she tells Sherlock this she makes a stop to visit Roger Edwards' grave. Her boys have been by, she can tell by the shine on the headstone and the replaced flowers. She starts to talk about Sherlock and John to him and how much they remind her of them. "Really Sherlock does since I haven't spoken to John," she admits. "I'd very much like that opportunity if you have any pull up there, love. Sherlock would be over the moon, too."
Hers and Sherlock's destinies are already different but she doesn't want to see what happens to that hope in his eyes, the hope and pride and love that will never leave him no matter what, if John wakes up worse than he started.
=====================================================================================
She's on evening shift when it happens. She's preparing to shift some of the flowers that Sherlock and Harry have been arranging in John's room toward the window. The scent really is getting to be much, especially the golden rod. She's nearly at the door when she hears Sherlock talking...and then John answering.
He's speaking slowly, slurred, and with a bit of a stammer. Normal though. He also answers the big question by naming himself and Sherlock. She knows she should go and do checks. Alert the doctor and Harry and Mycroft. Instead, as she hears Sherlock tell him to get some sleep and that they'll both be there in the morning, she takes a walk to the break room and hauls out the afghan one of the girls left as a parting gift when she moved on. She lays it across Sherlock and resists the urge to ruffle his hair or plant a kiss on the top of his head. He's already lighter, happier, and oh so victorious. Marion hasn't felt victorious in a good long while but she's glad that this has ended, or is going to end, the way it looks.
She turns her attention to John. "Well done, you," she whispers as she taps his hand. "Well done, you."