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The Rehabilitation of Dr. Joan Watson	By : LadyLaran Category: 1 through F > Elementary Views: 4616 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own "Elementary" nor do I make money from this story.

Chapter List
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Author’s Note – Admittedly, I am not a fan of heterosexual pairings but after watching the show ‘Elementary,’ I can easily say that I see the potential between Sherlock and Joan. I was reading some fan-based stories of ‘Sherlock,’ and the plot idea for this story spun into being. I truly hope my readers enjoy it as I challenge myself to try my hand at something I have not done in years – write a heterosexual romance. I really hope I haven’t lost my knack for it as well as being able to handle a character as layered as Sherlock Holmes is.
I am putting a warning up for this one – mentions of rape and physical assault. Needless to say, this is very much an AU.
Disclaimer – I do not own the characters of ‘Elementary.’ They are the works of the creative genius, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. I do not many any money from this tale at all.
Chapter One – Bad News
If there was one thing Sherlock Holmes had come to expect was the odd calls and appearances to the brownstone by one Captain Gregson. Indeed, he’d often come to relish those times as it meant that something challenging would be set before him and he would have a chance to utilize the skills that he had honed over the years. It didn’t matter if the appeals for help came at odd hours, though he knew that his apprentice would very much prefer if the hours were not quite so late. However, Watson did very well at keeping up with his hectic hours, much to Holmes’s surprise.
Despite the unusual hours he received visits and calls from the captain, the knock at his door was rather unexpected and unsettling when he opened it to reveal a very somber and concerned looking Gregson. There was no curl of anticipation in his stomach when Sherlock’s eyes settled upon the policeman.
“Captain?”
“It’s Joan, Sherlock.”
The unsettled feeling felt almost like badly cooked chips settling in his stomach when he heard Gregson’s words. This was something he had not anticipated hearing, and the consulting detective did not like it.
“What about Watson?”
“She was attacked tonight after leaving her meeting with her family,” the police captain began. “I got the call after someone stumbled across her and called 911. Police dispatch alerted me since they know you and she do some work for us.”
The feeling in his stomach grew worse, a feeling of serious nausea as well as anger. How could this happen to Watson? Somehow, he kept his voice steady as he questioned the other on the situation.
“How is she?”
“I don’t know exactly, Sherlock. As soon as I heard, I left to come get you. I thought you’d want to come with me to the hospital.”
“You’re right, I do indeed wish to go,” he answered, grabbing a coat and his keys as he did so. The Englishman did not want to linger, knowing time could be incredibly important in circumstances like these. He followed Gregson to his car, getting in without a word.
“Has her family been notified,” Sherlock asked as they approached the large building.
“I sent Detective Bell to do it,” the captain said softly. “Hopefully, we’ll see them there soon.”
“Yes,” he answered, equally soft. Sherlock had not been entirely certain as to what the dinner with her family had been in regards to. Watson had looked a bit anxious before leaving, and he’d given her a few words of encouragement before she’d gone.
The two emerged from the vehicle after Gregson had parked, heading into the emergency room area in hopes of gaining any information in regards to the former surgeon. The captain made an enquiry, then nodded and gestured for them to sit in a quiet area to wait.
“Any news at all,” he asked as they sat down.
“Not yet,” the American answered. “They’re checking now to see what they can find out. It’s a busy night for them, unfortunately. It could be a while before we hear something so we better try to get as comfortable as we can.”
Sherlock nodded, looking concerned as he settled in the chair to wait. He hated hospitals and hoped that they would get some information on Watson soon.
“Someone you trust is working on finding who did this to her, correct,” he asked quietly, looking at his companion for a moment. Though his concern was mainly focused on his apprentice, the consulting detective very much wanted to ensure that her case would not slip between the cracks.
“Yeah, Bell is going to handle it as soon as he finishes up with delivering the news to her family. He asked to be allowed to take it,” he murmured, knowing that Sherlock would appreciate the information. “We’ll definitely ask for help if it comes to that, but I think Watson may need you right now.”
Before Holmes could answer the captain, the detective they had been speaking about came in, looking angry. Gregson’s eyes narrowed in concern, not liking the look of rage on his subordinate’s face.
“You spoke with the family?”
“I did,” he spat out to his senior officer. “For all the good it did.”
The Englishman’s gaze turned towards the police detective, noticing the fury on the man’s face. This was not something he often saw on Bell, and the sinking feeling he’d been dealing with since receiving the bad news on Watson grew.
“The meeting did not go well, I take it?”
“You got that right, Holmes. I told her parents and her brother what was going on and was informed that Joan Watson was no longer their concern.”
Both Holmes and Gregson stared at the man, stunned by what they had heard. Bell nodded, looking grim and furious at the same time. It had taken the detective every ounce of control he had not to lash out at the family during the conversation, knowing the woman in question did not deserve such vitriol from the people who were supposed to love her.
“Yeah, I asked them to confirm that since it was their daughter and sister in the hospital. They told me that they didn’t know her and would no longer take any information or responsibility regarding Joan Watson.”
“I can’t believe this,” Gregson growled, hands clenching into fists as he struggled with his temper. “You can’t just cut off blood like that.”
The consulting detective interjected a gentle rebuttal. He’d seen this kind of thing happen all too often, and it was never a pleasant thing. Despite his loathing for his family, there were a very rare few times when his relations did come in handy.
“One would assume not, captain, but it does happen. It seems Watson’s family has decided to do just that. This may account for her having been attacked. I know that she carries a canister of pepper spray for her defense.”
Bell nodded, realizing where Holmes was going with this. He would remember that when he went to the investigation shortly.
“She was upset or angry and got caught off guard, disarmed before she could use it. Damn, this isn’t right.”
“Family of Joan Watson?”
The three men rose when they heard the call, heading to the man that was attired in scrubs. They headed to him, looking concerned for the missing woman.
“Are you the family of Ms. Watson?”
Gregson answered, keeping control over his anger for the moment.
“We’re friends of Ms. Watson. I am Capt. Gregson of the NYPD. This is Detective Bell, who will be handling Ms. Watson’s case, and Mr. Sherlock Holmes. At this moment in time, the Watson family is unreachable.”
“I see,” the doctor said, running fingers through his hair. “I’m Dr. Jerry Thompson, ER physician that took care of Ms. Watson when she came in. Follow me so we can talk please.”
The trio followed the doctor to a quiet room off to the side of the bustling emergency room waiting area. Once the door was closed, Dr. Thompson turned to face them.
“I’ll have the full report for you soon, Det. Bell, so you can have it for your files. We’ve reviewed the x-rays I sent her up for after the initial exam. She has a concussion, a fracture in her left radius, as well as cracked ribs. There’s also a considerable amount of bruising to her face and torso. A rape kit was also done and sent to the crime lab.”
The three men stared at him for a moment, processing his last sentence. Gregson broke the silence, voice tight with rage and horror. Bell had the same expression on his face as he was feeling, and Holmes’s eyes were burning with something he could identify with all too easily.
“She was raped?”
The physician nodded, looking worn out. This was part of his job he hated the most, and he knew the men in front of him were very concerned for his patient. In the back of his mind, he had a feeling that the one who had done this to her would be very miserable once they caught him.
“Yes,” he answered. “Her arm has been set, ribs bound, and is resting comfortably at the moment. I’d like to keep her overnight tonight for observation due to the concussion. Barring any unforeseen complications, Ms. Watson should be released to go home tomorrow morning.”
Holmes broke his silence, voice soft as he queried the physician. Despite his rage regarding to the news they had been given, he wanted to see his apprentice and check up on her.
“Can we see her?”
“Follow me,” the doctor answered, leading them out of the quiet room and through several hallways to the elevator. None of them spoke during the short trip and nodded when the doctor guided them to a semi-closed door.
“This is her room for tonight,” he answered. “A nurse will be by to monitor her vitals and the concussion.”
The trio entered the room, Holmes leading the way in. Sherlock paused a moment when he spotted Watson laying in the bed. The woman opened her eyes, focusing on her visitors.
“Hey,” she managed to greet them.
“Watson,” Sherlock said, keeping his voice even and in his usual tones. He headed to a chair, moving it close to her bedside.
“Hi Joan,” Gregson said, giving her a soft smile.
“You guys here in an official capacity,” she asked, wincing as she tried to get comfortable on the narrow bed.
“Bell is,” the captain answered. “Holmes and I are here as your friend.”
Joan gave him a wan smile, touched by that, before turning her gaze to Bell. She knew what came next and wanted to get it over with.
“I can do it now,” she told him, hand clenching her blanket. Dark eyes turned to Holmes when it was taken by the consulting detective, a warm squeeze given to reassure her. She gave him a tiny smile, a bit confused, before turning her gaze back to Bell.
The police detective nodded, pulling out a notebook to take notes with. Gregson took a stand behind Holmes so as to offer his own strength if the former surgeon needed it.
“Take your time, Ms. Watson,” he began, voice polite and soothing. “Tell me what happened tonight.”
She was quiet a moment, putting everything together in her mind. Joan knew she had to be as thorough as possible, wanting her attacker found quickly before someone else was hurt.
“The family meeting I was summoned to didn’t go well,” the former surgeon began. “I left before the main course was served; there was no way I could sit there and go through that anymore. There wasn’t a cab nearby so I made a call on my cell and was told that it would be twenty minutes before one could get there.”
“What cab company did you call?”
Joan answered, knowing he would have to back up her story.
“Faraday’s. Sherlock and I use them quite often if I don’t drive and if our destination is too far to walk to. They’re trustworthy and usually on time when you call for them.”
Bell made note of it, motioning her to continue.
“I told them I understood about the delay and gave them the address of the restaurant, staying near the light at the front. I didn’t want to go back in and run the risk of another confrontation. Stupid now,” she muttered, shaking her head before resuming her story.
“I ended the call and was grabbed just seconds later,” Joan stated, closing her eyes to help keep her emotional balance as well as aid her in recalling the details. “I wasn’t expecting it and should have.”
“You were distraught, Watson. It’s normal for people to be off their guard when the emotions are overwrought. Do not blame yourself for this.”
She squeezed Holmes’s hand, thanking him silently though she didn’t really believe his words.
“I grabbed my spray, but he grabbed my hand and slammed it against the edge of a dumpster. I felt the bone break then and couldn’t hang onto the spray at all. I kept trying to fight back, hoping to make enough noise to get someone’s attention. It didn’t work, and all it seemed to do was make him angrier. He started hitting me, starting with the face first and then my torso.”
Her voice trailed off for a moment, and Bell gave her time. He hated interviewing victims, and it was hard listening to Watson’s testimony as he knew her personally. The fact that she was managing to keep herself together long enough to give a succinct testimony was a tribute to her strength as well as the training Holmes had been giving her. His respect for the woman was climbing with every word she relayed.
“I don’t remember how long it took before I hit the ground. I was too dizzy and in pain to try to stay standing. That’s when…he took some sort of knife and cut away my undergarment, raping me right after. Something startled him when he finished, and he ran off. I think I lost consciousness afterwards because the next thing I remember was waking up in the emergency room.”
“Were you able to get a good look at this guy at all?”
Joan’s eyes closed again, going through her memories as she put together what facts she could recall.
“Caucasian, taller than I am. My head came even to his chin when he pulled me back against him to drag me off,” she answered. “Accented voice, Italian I think. I didn’t get a look at his face, but there was a tattoo around his wrist that ended on the back of his hand, a stylized cross. Nails were clean, well kept.”
“Is there anything else you can remember, Joan?”
She shook her head, eyes still closed. The exhaustion was making itself more apparent, and Bell was eager to end the interview to allow her a chance to rest.
“No, I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be, Joan. You’ve given me enough to get a good start on finding your attacker. Don’t worry, ok? You focus on getting better. If you do remember more, call me or have Holmes do so.”
“I shall do so, detective,” Sherlock answered, seeing the lines of strain on Watson’s face. “Captain, I wonder if I might ask a favor of you?”
Gregson nodded and followed Holmes and Bell out of the room. Sherlock stopped right outside her door, digging in his pockets and handing the captain his keys.
“Would you be so kind as to stop by the brownstone and bring Watson back a clean change of clothing for the morning? Something loose, soft, and nonrestrictive will serve best given the bandages.”
The police captain blinked but took the keys the consulting detective had offered him.
“I can drop them off in the morning,” he answered. “You’re not going home?”
“No, I shall stay here with Watson tonight. After the magnitude of the trauma she has experienced tonight, it would be best if someone remained with her.”
“Good, I’m glad you’re doing it,” Gregson said, pocketing the keys he’d been given. “Do you need anything?”
“Only Watson’s attacker behind bars,” Holmes answered, looking furious for a moment before pulling himself back under control. “But for the morning, perhaps Detective Bell can find an answer to a question I have.”
“I can try,” he answered, sounding determined. “What’s the question?”
“How is it an upscale restaurant like the one the Watsons dined in tonight did not respond when a patron was dragged away from the front of their establishment nor did they hear her calls for help?”
“That question occurred to me too when she was talking. I’ll get that answer for you, Holmes,” he promised.
“Good. I’ll see you in the morning, Captain,” Holmes told him, heading back inside the hospital room and leaving the policemen to head out. There was a lot to be done in regards to finding Joan’s assailant as well as helping the woman recover from the attack she had undergone.
Author’s End Note – Well, here’s the first chapter. I hope everyone likes it so far and that I’m not too OOC with the characters. Please let me know what you think! See you next chapter, Laran.
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The Rehabilitation of Dr. Joan Watson