"He should wake up soon. When he does he still may be out of it, that laughing gas sure leaves a strange effect on people." You nodded and looked back again at his sleeping form. His curls lay perked up on his forehead and jutted up in random spots. "We thought he would be okay with just the numbing, but he would not stop talking and we couldn't start the surgery. So, we had to put him on happy gas and he eventually fell asleep."
"Sounds like him," you chuckled. "Anything else I need to know?"
"Don't let him have painkillers less than 4 hours apart. Also, change the gauze in his mouth about an hour after you get home. Only soft foods. And make sure he rests for the next couple days. The rest of the instructions are on the paper."
"Thank you," you said, and smiled politely at nurse as she left the room. A strange gurgling noise sounded behind you. You turned around and there he was, bloody slobber running down from his mouth, tears leaking from the corners of his eyes, and a pained look etched deep into his face. "I don't think I've ever been more disgusted by you in my life," you stated bluntly. He smiled sleepily at you and more bloody drool spilled out.
You grabbed a tissue and cleaned him up. Next, you held onto his hand trying to sit him upright. Suddenly he yanked your hand towards him. He looked at you straight in the eye, rested your hand on his chest and whispered with a mouthful of gauze: "heart". You looked him up and down, thoroughly confused. He gripped your hand tighter to his chest and repeated it again, "heart".
"Yes Tarzan, that's your heart. Now come on, let's get you home."
"Home?" he asked, still dazed. He tried sitting up and yelped lightly, cupping his face.
"Nurse said it will hurt for awhile. But you'll feel better once you get home and we give you some ice to put on it." He shook his head like a pouty little boy, even going as far as to stick out his bottom lip, crinkle his nose, and clench his eyes shut. Gosh he was cute.
"The sooner we get you home the sooner it will stop hurting." At that he opened one of his eyes and looked at you. Then, thankfully, he decided to listen and sloppily got to his feet, wobbling around a bit. He was still a little hungover from the happy gas and not back to his old self yet, just a vulnerable little boy in a man's body. You walked him out to the main lobby to pay, letting go of his arm for a brief moment to fetch your credit and health cards. You handed them to the receptionist, momentarily forgetting you were babysitting a drunk baby. You looked around frantically for him seeing as he was no longer right by your side. Eventually you spotted him at the kids area sitting in a too small chair and having a tug-o-war with a little boy over what looked to be a red Lego.
"Excuse me really quick," you smiled to the receptionist, then speed walked over to the children's area. "Sherlock!" you whispered yelled. He snapped his head quickly in your direction, his attention diverting from the fight. His eyebrows were furrowed and an angrily innocent look was locked into his eyes. At that moment, the little boy took advantage of this distraction to rip the Lego from Sherlock's hands and add it to the top of his building to complete his creation. Sherlock's mouth dropped and he smacked the boys house so that it spilled over the table, breaking and scattering around the floor. The boy erupted into tears and ran crying to his mother; she looked horrified over at you and Sherlock. "Heheh kids," you joked apologetically, trying to diffuse the tension. How does one apologize for their drugged up husband you wondered. You grabbed Sherlock's arm, snatched your credit card from the receptionist's hand, and hurried out to the car.
Once there you unlocked Sherlock's door and held it open, waiting for him to climb in. Instead, he just smiled dreamily at you.
"Get in," you ordered. He did so with no fight and you slammed the door, huffing and puffing as you walked over to your side. You got in and started the car, watching Sherlock struggle to buckle his seat belt. You sighed and helped him. Once he was firmly secured you backed out of the parking lot. You were still fuming from the situation that happened inside when you felt a hand grab yours that rested on the middle console. At first you didn't look over, hoping he would just let go and not bother you. You understood he was under the influence of drugs, less harmful ones this time, but you did not want to deal with his childish behavior anymore. He shook your hand and you finally looked over. His eyes were glazed with tiredness and barely open. He half smiled at you and some more drool trickled out.
"Love," he said with a tired smile. You couldn't help but melt a little on the inside. Despite being drugged up and full of gauze, you took that simple word to heart.
"I love you too," you chuckled. You had your eyes trained on the road and didn't notice him falling asleep to your sweet words. You felt his hand slide off yours and you looked over to see your drunk baby sleeping soundly with a big smile on his face.
A/N
Yay for updates two days in a row
Yay for 63,000 reads (you guys are the best)
Yay for safely drugged up Sherlock
Nay for #sherpression which I am feeling very much of at the moment
Nay for being stressed
Yay for all the wonderful children I have on here
Yay for having Wattpad as an outlet for my writing and stress
Yay for tomorrow being Friday
(Okay I'll stop before I annoy you all)
enjoy
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BBC Sherlock Imagines
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