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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 – The response to this has been amazing, and I’ve been so incredibly happy with the comments from everyone. I can’t thank you guys enough for your support. I hope I can continue to make this story enjoyable for everyone.
I apologize for the length of time between updates. I lost my maternal grandmother and have been dealing with my own health issues at the same time.
Disclaimer – I do not own “Elementary” as its characters belong to Sir Arthur Conan Doyle and the network that airs this wonderful show. They earn the money; I don’t. I just have fun playing with the characters.
Chapter Two – Hospitals
The night had not been a good one with nurses coming in to monitor Joan due to her concussion. Sherlock could observe the frown on his companion’s face that appeared during the intervals of restless sleep. He kept a close eye on her, ready to wake his apprentice should the dreams become nightmares.
When she stirred around seven in the morning, he had spent most of the time she had been sleeping reviewing her testimony, trying to come up with ideas for Bell to use for the investigation. Even though Sherlock was committed to helping Joan through this ordeal and could not investigate it himself, he would present what ideas he could to the police detective in order to bring her attacker to justice.
“Did you stay awake all night?”
The consulting detective gave her a small nod while answering the question that had been asked. He answered in a quiet tone, not wanting to add any further stress on his companion.
“It was no trouble at all, I assure you. How are you feeling?”
Joan slowly sat up with a wince, feeling her injuries throb as she moved. She felt bruised all over, and the broken bone was aching badly.
“In pain,” she admitted.
“Understandable, in light of your injuries. I imagine you will be uncomfortable for some time until you heal.”
The former surgeon nodded, trying to get herself in a more comfortable position. Sherlock helped her by arranging a pillow to help support her and ease the pain.
“Watson, I must ask, the problem with your family. What precipitated it? I had no inkling that something of this magnitude was forthcoming.”
In retrospect, Joan knew he would ask this and should not have been surprised by it at all. Sherlock didn’t like not knowing all of the pieces of a puzzle.
“It’s been building for a while, Sherlock. My last two career choices were not within the ambitions and ideals my family had envisioned for me.”
“They demanded you return to medicine?”
She nodded, brushing hair out of her eyes as she did so. He could see the determination written in every gesture and facial expression Joan made.
“Don’t get me wrong, I liked being a doctor but I found fulfillment in being a sober companion and really enjoy the challenge that being your associate brings. I don’t want to leave this new career.”
She was quiet for a moment, staring off into space as she collected her thoughts together.
“They found it impossible to be pleased with the fact that I am happy and since I refused to fall in line with their demands, they decided to cut me out of the family. Apparently, it was a unanimous decision by all there and they had made sure the entire family was at the dinner last night.”
He gave her a nod, and she knew he understood. From what she knew of his father, Sherlock more than understood the demands of a controlling family.
“I, for one, am very pleased not to lose such a promising associate and flatmate. I am sorry that they felt such a break was necessary.”
“It was coming, and I knew it. They’ve never been able to focus on the happiness of their children and hate that I won’t stay malleable.”
Holmes nodded again, accompanied with a small, crooked smile. There was a knock on the door before he could speak and when she called out, a familiar head popped into view.
“You are up rather early today, captain.”
Gregson nodded, smiling as he entered the hospital room. He could tell Joan was in pain and hoped that his arrival would be welcome by her.
“I come bearing coffee as well as other things,” he announced, grinning when both Holmes and Watson perked at the mention of the hot beverage.
“Coffee?”
He chuckled, handing a cup to both of them as well as passing a bag and a key ring to Holmes.
“Thank you, captain,” the Englishman told him, sipping his coffee after setting the bag down and pocketing the keys.
“You’re welcome. So when are they letting you out of here, Joan?”
“Hopefully soon,” she replied, then took a sip of the hot beverage Gregson had brought. Joan gave a soft sigh as the warmth began to chase away the chill the hospital room had given her.
“The coffee is greatly appreciated, captain,” Holmes said. “As well as you completing the task I asked you to do.”
“Task?”
Gregson nodded, swallowing his sip before answering Joan’s question.
“Holmes had me pick up a comfortable change of clothing for you. He gave me his keys so I could do it before coming here.”
She stared at her housemate for a moment, astonished that he’d thought so far ahead as to her needs.
“Yes, well, I didn’t think a pair of scrubs would be comfortable for your voyage back to the brownstone and your garb from last night is in the hands of the police. Given your injuries, I felt that a pair of your sweats and a lose t-shirt would be comfortable.”
The former surgeon gave her friend a soft smile. Sherlock still managed to surprise her, and this was one that she liked.
“Thank you, both of you. I really appreciate it.”
The police detective gave her a small grin, answering in a soft tone of voice.
“It’s the least I could do. Good thing Sherlock thought of it because I probably wouldn’t have.”
The Englishman hid his discomfort at her gratitude by sipping his coffee and waving a hand to his housemate. He didn’t want her to have to worry about things and expressing gratitude would only force her to linger on why she had to rely on others to fetch something as simple as suitable attire for her.
His thoughts were disturbed when a doctor came into the room.
“I’m Dr. Elise Porter,” the woman introduced herself. “How did you rest last night, Ms. Watson?”
“I did all right, except for the occasional nightmare or being woken up due to a nurse,” Joan replied. “I know concussions are tricky, but being woken up like that can really get annoying.”
“I know, and I thank you for being understanding with them. How are you doing today?”
The Asian-American woman sighed, setting her coffee on the table as she prepared to answer the physician. She didn’t want to have to set it down, needing the warmth from it, but she knew it would get in the way of the upcoming exam.
“I’ve got a headache and hurting all over,” she admitted to the other woman. “I know I’m pretty banged up.”
“That’s one way to put it,” Dr. Porter commented, heading to her patient’s side. She examined Joan’s eyes and then checked the arm and her ribs.
“Good news is, you’re healing well and I’m glad of that. No sign of a fever, which is what I like to see. Looks as if the concussion is doing all right too. I’ll sign the release papers and send you home with some prescriptions. I trust you to follow up with your GP.”
“I can do that,” Joan agreed, anxious to get out of the hospital. “I know how to tend wounds.”
“Do you have someone to stay with for a few days, just to ensure you’re all right?”
“We’re flatmates,” Sherlock interrupted. “I will ensure she takes the required medication and rests as she is supposed to.”
“Even better,” Dr. Porter said with a smile. “I’ll send in a nurse with the paperwork and to help you dress. You’re going to be very stiff and sore for a few days so try to take it easy, all right?”
“Thank you,” the dark haired woman in the bed said softly. “I appreciate what you’ve done, doctor.”
“Not a problem, Ms. Watson,” the physician said, then left the room.
“Well, that’s great news,” Gregson said with a bright smile. “At least you’re not going to be stuck in this freezing room for much longer.”
“Yes, it is great news,” Sherlock agreed. “One would swear the hospital staff is trying to keep their patients longer by keeping it cold enough to allow pneumonia to develop.”
Joan shook her head at that, giving a small smile. She really appreciated her two friends and was happy to have them with her.
“I’d rather be cold than to deal with bacteria growing,” she reminded them. “It can become pretty nasty if that was allowed to happen.”
“Very astutely observed, Watson,” the consulting detective said to his associate. “It would be very annoying if you were unable to return to the brownstone due to a bacterial infection.”
“It’d just mean you’d have to actually do something around the place,” she teased her friend. “Don’t think you’re going to get out of it now.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it,” the Englishman teased, rising to his feet as the nurse entered the room. “Captain Gregson and I shall wait out in the corridor for you. Just summon us when you are ready.”
The two men left the women alone, knowing Joan would need privacy to dress. Gregson leaned against the hallway, looking at the detective.
“Bell called earlier this morning to check in,” he said quietly. “He said the restaurant did have a security camera, and they’re bringing the tapes in this afternoon. I’d like for Joan to meet with a sketch artist soon and see if she can’t give enough of a description so our officers have something to go on while they’re on patrol.”
“I’ll speak to her about it when we are home,” Sherlock said. “Did the owner or managers have any comment about that night at all?”
“No one heard anything, and Bell tested that by having a uniformed officer raise hell in the alley where the attack was. He said that the lobby area of the restaurant is pretty sound proof so unless someone was outside the doors, no one would have heard her call for help.”
He sipped his coffee, pondering on what to do next. The tattooed male frowned, then looked up at the other man.
“Send me a copy of the tapes and I’ll review them while Watson rests,” the consultant informed him. “I’ll also have her work with the artist as you requested, but I am unsure as to how accurate the drawing will be as he was behind her most of the time.”
“Sounds good,” Gregson sighed. “I know it might not be, but every little bit of information we can get will help us find the son of a bitch that did this to her. No word from her family?”
“None whatsoever,” Sherlock answered, sounding irritated by the news he had to give the captain. “I hadn’t expected to either as her brother seems to answer to their mother in all things. Whatever the matriarch says to do is done without questions being asked.”
“I can’t understand a family doing that,” Thomas said, frowning deeper. “Even if they were upset by something she’d done, the news of her attack should motivate them to show a sign of sympathy.”
“Not all families are like yours, captain,” the Englishman softly reminded him. “There are those out there who will remove a person from the family tree simply for being different or for losing themselves for a while. It doesn’t make it right to those looking in but to them, it’s a perfectly normal thing to do.”
The policeman shook his head, looking into his coffee.
“She’s a great person, very kind and loyal, and she doesn’t deserve shit like this happening to her.”
“Which is why the perpetrator will be caught and brought to justice,” Sherlock reminded him. “I’ll assist where I can, but I must remain accessible in case Watson requires something.”
“You’re a good friend to her, Sherlock, and remember to call me if you two need anything,” Thomas murmured as the door opened.
“I shall,” he agreed, readying himself to bring his flatmate home.
Author’s End Note – I’m sorry this took so long. Real life issues suck, especially when they involve the death of a loved one. Please let me know what you think about the chapter! ~ Laran
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The Rehabilitation of Dr. Joan Watson