The hospital was in his sight now. He sat right against the door of the taxi, eagerly waiting to escape and enter the building that he saw five or six days a week. The sound of his rapid heartbeat pulsed in his ears, drowning everything else out. All he could register was the horrifying, paralysing fear that was circulating around his whole body.
A single word went through his mind. Just one. Sherlock.
When the car comes to a stop outside the hospital, Jim hops out and throws a twenty pound note into the drivers lap. He didn't stop for the change, simply turned on his heel and scurried into the hospital's reception area.
The receptionist beams as he approaches "Jim, hi-"
"No time for chit chat, Isabelle. What wing is Sherlock on?" Jim demands, eyes on the computer which held the information he desperately wanted.
"One sec..." She turns to the computer. She opens her mouth but Jim interrupts.
"Holmes. Sherlock Holmes."
She nods, typing on the keyboard. Jim grits his teeth a little, aware how much faster he could type and get the information he wanted from the computer. A dreadfully long minute later, Jim has the wing and section and is off again after a rushed and completely undeserving thanks to Isabelle.
"Bloody slow typing," Jim growls the words under his breath, coming to a stop and jabbing the little up arrow on the lift control panel.
The lift ride is, much like waiting for the room number, was painfully slow and Jim's fists balled together tighter and tighter, growing white, as the lift stopped to let more people in. Didn't these stupid people know that Jim had a boyfriend who could be seriously hurt that he needed to see right now?!
As he pushes passed a few people to dart onto the floor Sherlock was on, Jim does have a flash of guilt pass through him. Those people had people to see too.
It's soon forgotten when he arrives at the designated wing.
Jim can only see two of the four bed on the wing. The other two are surrounded by the thin blue curtain that passed for privacy. Jim took comfort in the fact Sherlock hadn't been moved to a private room and hopefully that meant he wasn't in a dire condition.
Stopping at the desk, Jim gives a small smile to the nurse sat at her station. "Which bed is Sherlock Holmes?" He asks, voice still rushed despite the polite tone as he pointed to the two beds on the far side which had their curtains drawn.
"Far right, hun."
Jim nods his thanks, making a beeline for the bed there. He doesn't look around at the other patients and visitors that cast him looks of sympathy. He just hoped that those looks were because of the general fact they, like he, knew the worry of having someone close to them in hospital.
When he reaches the curtain, Jim can hear John.
"You bloody idiot! You could have been killed!"
"Do shut up. I wasn't killed," came Sherlock's snarky reply.
Grinning in relief, Jim steps into the cramped area that was 95% covered by the bed. Whatever John was going to say was forgotten as both the men turn to look at the new arrival. Sherlock grins at his boyfriend as Jim's eyes run over Sherlock's body, searching for any kind of damage. When he saw none, he sighs happily and moves over to the bed. One of his arms wrap around Sherlock's neck, holding his face close as he buries his own in Sherlock's hair. All the panic and worry leak out of him and Jim can feel tears begin to prickle at the corner of his eyes.
He swallows and kisses Sherlock's hair before he pulls back.
Then, smile falling, Jim hits Sherlock's shoulder. "You!" he says, hitting again. "Scared. The. Living. Hell. Out. Of. Me!" With each word, Jim hit any part of Sherlock he could reach. His head, shoulders, arm, chest - but he avoided his face.
That stupid, beautiful, laughing face. When Jim's finished hitting him, Sherlock looks up with a grin. Jim wanted to slap him and was just about to raise his hand and do just that when a hand gripped his neck and he was pulled down into a hard kiss that was more teeth and tongue than lips.
"Idiot," Jim sighs into the kiss.
Sherlock laughs but somehow their lips still don't separate completely until a moment later. When Jim pulls back, he was surprised to see that John had disappeared. Shrugging (because, if he's honest, he doesn't much care for John's whereabouts), Jim taps Sherlock's leg to get him to scoot over enough that he can sit on the edge.
Sherlock does, wrapping an arm around Jim's waist once he'd sat down. Jim leans into Sherlock, his head on the detective's shoulder.
"So, what exactly happened?"
"I was shot," Sherlock states, calmly.
Sitting up sharply, Jim looks at Sherlock with wide eyes and assesses him once again. "Shot?! Where?"
Shaking his head, Sherlock smiles again. "Not with a bullet. I was shot by a dart. The case involved poisonous darts."
"Y-you've been poisoned?" Jim asks, frowning in worry and scooting closer again.
Again, Sherlock shakes his head. "No. But they want to run checks and such, still." Sherlock rolls his eyes. "If John and these other idiots listened to me, they'd understand that if I was poisoned then I'd be dead by now."
Jim swallows, nodding slowly before he rests his head on Sherlock's shoulder again and closes his eyes.
"Bloody idiot."
Sherlock snorts. "Such original insults."
Jim smirks. "Shut it, hoe."
That sends them both into a fit of giggles. Jim stops the laughter by turning his head and capturing Sherlock's lips in a slow, heart meltingly sweet kiss. Sherlock's lips were slightly chapped but Jim didn't care about that as one of his hands slide into Sherlock's curls and he pushes himself closer.
"I am very, very glad that you're okay," Jim mumbles, kissing Sherlock again after the words pour out.
I want to say it, Jim thinks to himself as they sit there and exchange lazy but sweet kisses. I want to tell him.. that I think - no, that I do love him. Fucking hell... I love him!
He doesn't say the L word though, far more interested in exchanging kisses than to put those words out there just yet.
Later that night, once Jim is home (Sherlock had to stay in the hospital for the night), he does decide that it's time for him to show Sherlock what he meant to him. But not with those words. First, Jim had another way to show Sherlock how much he cared.
Smiling, he grabs his laptop.
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Starting Up....
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Sign In. Hotmail.
Inbox (4)
Owen Moriarty
Your mum tells me you've got a....
You have two friends with birthd...
Don Davids
Have you seen that pic on Tum...
Elizabeth Moriarty
RE: Sherlock
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From: EMoriarty110@gmail.co.uk
Subject: RE: Sherlock
I'm glad things are going well, Jim, but I would like to meet this man you don't seem to shut up about. Your father's interested too. You've been with him for some time now AND you've said yourself that it's 130% serious.. and you haven't even introduced him to your parents?!
Shameful. I expect a visit soon. From you both. Understood?
-Mum xoxox
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To: EMoriarty110@gmail.co.uk
Subject: RE: Sherlock
I was just on my way to email you and ask if we could visit. I swear, you just predict my decisions and then play innocent, claiming it's a 'mothers instinct'.
Anyway. How's next weekend?
I haven't actually asked Sherlock if he's willing yet but I'm sure that he wouldn't mind and would even like to meet you.
Just promise: no baby pictures, okay?
Please, no baby pictures.
Okay. Love you. Xxx
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Google.
[Google search] [I'm feeling lucky]
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Username: Jim_06
Password: pasS12>woRd00
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Welcome back, Jim_06!
You have two new messages and one friend request. [Click here to view friend requests]
29/95 contacts online.
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[New Status]
Nice to see so many of you online...
Long time, no see. Or type..?
-Jim xx
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You have eighteen new messages and one friend request. [Click here to view friend requests]
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MelonFucker138 wants to be your friend!
[Accept] [Decline]
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[23:29] Jim_06 is now friends with MelonFucker138
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MelonFucker138: I love your page! Especially the pics you have. Please, please tell you have a Tumblr. This. Fandom. Needs. You.
Jim_06: I do <Clickheretogotowww.t...>
Jim_06: Loving the name, btw.
MelonFucker138: Thanks! <3
MelonFucker138: Following you!
Jim_06: In that case, I should start posting more...
MelonFucker138: Yes, do!
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DatAwesomeGuyDon: Where are you? Damn, you got yourself a man or something? I never see you... talk to you... anymore.
Jim_06: I do have a man, yes.
Jim_06: 30 odd people online and you're not one.
Jim_06: You suck.
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TheConsultingDetective: You should be sleeping.
Jim_06: So should you.
TheConsultingDetective: I got shot with a dart, I'm allowed to stay up late.
Jim_06: You're an idiot.
TheConsultingDetective: Charming one, you are.
Jim_06: And you're stuck with me.
TheConsultingDetective: A fact I am not complaining about at all.
Jim_06: Mum wants to meet you.
TheConsultingDetective: Really?
Jim_06: Yeah.
Jim_06: I said that we'd go down next weekend.
TheConsultingDetective: You want me to meet your parents?
Jim_06: Of course I do.
TheConsultingDetective: Okay.
Jim_06: That's all your stating? 'Okay'?
TheConsultingDetective: Yes. Am I meant to say more?
Jim_06: Usually people say that they want to meet their boyfriend's parents and that they're swept away by this gesture.
TheConsultingDetective: I thought you'd just assume that's how I feel.
Jim_06: Is that how you feel?
TheConsultingDetective: Yes.
Jim_06: Hard to tell without seeing you.
TheConsultingDetective: It's so dull here. I'd rather be at home with you, cuddling up in bed.
Jim_06: I think we'd both prefer that.
TheConsultingDetective: Well, you have Patrick.
Jim_06: Patrick?
TheConsultingDetective: The big blue teddy I won you.
Jim_06: You named it Patrick?
TheConsultingDetective: He looks like a Patrick.
Jim_06: Hm. I suppose. Bit of an odd name for a teddy though.
TheConsultingDetective: I officially dub him Patrick. You have no say in the matter. Sorry, love.
Jim_06: Git.
Jim_06: Love? That one's new.
TheConsultingDetective: Don't like it?
Jim_06: No, it's fine. You never seemed the sort for pet names.
TheConsultingDetective: Not often.
Jim_06: Okay. Well, it's nice.
TheConsultingDetective: More pet names, then?
Jim_06: If you like. I've become quite fond of the way you call me James, if I'm honest...
TheConsultingDetective: I knew you would.
Jim_06: Idiot.
TheConsultingDetective: Only for you.
Jim_06: And when possibly poisonous darts are around, apparently.
TheConsultingDetective: Shut up.
Jim_06: I'm typing, dear, not speaking.
Jim_06: It's late...
TheConsultingDetective: Tired?
Jim_06: Yeah.
Jim_06: Fearing for my gorgeous boyfriend's life does that.
TheConsultingDetective: Go to sleep. If they don't release me by tomorrow noon, I'm forcing Mycroft to get them to release me.
Jim_06: I'll see you tomorrow then. Night xoxo
TheConsultingDetective: Goodnight, James. xx
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Logging off...
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Shutting Down...
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