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The Rehabilitation of Dr. Joan Watson	By : LadyLaran Category: 1 through F > Elementary Views: 4617 -:- 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 – I have gotten so much feedback on the last chapter, and it’s been astounding. There’s been compliments on my handling of the characters, and I’ve been beyond ecstatic that all of you think that I’m doing this well with them. You, dear readers, are utterly amazing and I am so very thankful for all of you!
I’m not one hundred percent satisfied with this chapter. It’s a necessary one for progression of the story, but I couldn’t quite get it to where I wanted it to go. Unfortunately, I couldn’t push myself to look over it one more time. I’ve read and reread it to the point where I simply can’t see anything else I can do to help improve it. I just hope I continue keeping the characters true while things develop.
Disclaimer – I do not own Elementary or the characters involved in the show. I also don’t make money from this story.
Chapter Three – Homecoming
Returning to the brownstone was a relief for Joan. The ride from the hospital had been a nerve wracking affair; she had not expected to feel anxious about leaving the relative safety of the large building, and she’d forced herself to focus on Sherlock’s monologue about the newest article on bee keeping. His enthusiasm for the subject had helped her to keep the anxiety away, and she’d been able to ask a few questions to help keep herself focused on not panicking. Sherlock seemed rather pleased with her participation, knowing that would help continue to keep her from suffering from anxiety during the trip, and the former physician concentrated on the details to help push her abilities to observe.
Her friend helped her out of the cab, providing an arm to lean on as they made their way up the few steps and into the welcoming atmosphere of their home.
“Do you wish to retire to your room or relax down here for the time being,” he asked her, knowing she’d need help to get up the stairs for the next few days. Her ribs would limit her mobility until they had healed enough to allow her to move without pain. The issues her broken arm would cause was something he would address with her later.
“I’d like to stay down here,” Joan admitted. “As long as I won’t disturb you.”
“Not at all,” Sherlock informed her, helping her into the living room and onto the sofa. He tucked a pillow behind her head, allowing her to get into a position that would not be a strain on her battered body. “Now, can I get you anything?”
“A cup of tea would be nice. I still feel rather cold,” she murmured and he nodded, heading into the kitchen to brew them both a cup of tea.
After a cup, prepared just how she liked it, was handed to his flatmate, the consulting detective sat in his usual chair.
“There are a few matters we must speak on,” Sherlock began. “First of all, Gregson would like to send a sketch artist here so that your assailant’s likeness can be captured on paper before the memory fades.”
Joan sipped her tea, then sighed. She knew it was important, but the woman really wanted to put everything behind her. However, the thought that this man would do it again to others was one that fired her determination to do everything she could to ensure his capture.
“Today would probably be best,” she told her friend. “I don’t want to have to worry while waiting for the artist to get here. That would possibly distort my memory, and I want my mind as clear as possible for that.”
Sherlock set his tea down, quickly texting the captain to let him know that his partner had agreed to the artist. A few moments later, his mobile buzzed with an acknowledgement from Gregson and a statement that the artist would be on her way to their home within a few moments. He typed an acknowledgement back, then set his phone down.
“The artist will be here shortly,” he informed her. “Will you wish me to remain during the process?”
“Would you mind,” she asked, knowing Sherlock didn’t handle providing comfort well and she didn’t want him to feel uncomfortable. However, Joan knew she would feel better if he stayed in the room while she worked with the artist.
“Not at all,” the detective told her, understanding her need for company. “I will endeavor to provide a listening ear whenever you require it, Watson. Also, I will provide whatever aid Detective Bell needs in order to bring your attacker to justice.”
“I appreciate that, Sherlock,” Joan said softly. “I’m not sure how much of a description I can give the artist though.”
“Clear your mind, try to relax before she arrives,” he advised. “Stressing yourself over this will only hinder your ability to recall any distinguishing features.”
The woman nodded, sipping her tea. Sherlock was giving solid advice, and she would try her best to follow it.
“I’ll try,” she said to him. “Thank you.”
“You are very welcome,” the detective replied. “The other concern I have is the limitations you will be hindered with in regards to your broken arm.”
“It will make doing certain things a problem,” Joan agreed.
“I will wrap your arm so the cast does not become wet during your shower times,” Sherlock offered. “The other grooming issues and rebinding your ribs might be problematic given the closeness it requires.”
Joan sighed, thinking about the problem. Most of her friends were busy and lived a ways away from where the brownstone was located. She trusted Sherlock and would be willing to try to let him help, but she was worried that the trauma she had endured might cause problems while he was helping her. It would put a strain on their friendship, and that was the last thing the former surgeon wanted.
An idea occurred to her, and she mentally perked up at it. Hopefully, this would help her a great deal without the added burden on the detective.
“Do you think Ms. Hudson would be willing to do so? I could pay her to come in to change my bindings and help wash my hair.”
Even though the cleaner was male by birth, she identified as a woman and that was how Joan thought of her. It made sense to ask her for help since she would feel more comfortable with another female being that close to her.
“Watson, that is a brilliant idea,” Sherlock said, giving her a warm look. “Let me ring her and see if she’d be willing.”
“Go ahead and explain the situation to her,” Joan said, giving him permission to tell the woman everything. “I don’t want her thinking it’s something against you.”
“Of course,” he commented, getting up to go into another room to place the call. Joan was going to have enough to worry about when the artist arrived, and he didn’t want her to hear the conversation.
While he was gone, the Asian-American woman sipped her tea and worked on keeping her mind clear. Sherlock’s advice made sense, and she was going to utilize it because she didn’t want anxiety or fear to cloud her mind. The last thing the case needed was for an unclear picture and description to be given for identification purposes.
By the time the consulting detective came back into the room, Joan was relaxed and looking a bit better than where she had been before he’d made the call.
“Ms. Hudson said she would be here in a couple of hours; she wanted to give you time to finish with the artist before she came over.”
“She was agreeable to helping me?”
“Oh yes,” he said. “She told me she wouldn’t accept payment for doing it either since she considers this the right thing to do.”
“It’s an imposition on her time though,” Joan rebutted, then quieted at the head shake from her roommate.
“She doesn’t see it that way, Watson, and you know how stubborn she can be. It’s best to let her have her way in this.”
Sherlock knew Ms. Hudson would win in this argument; the woman had been remarkably touched by the fact that Joan had thought of her first as someone she could trust to be close by during her more vulnerable moments. The fact that both detectives accepted her and her true gender was something she had always appreciated, and the autodidact was incredibly loyal to them.
“I’ll have to sneak her some of her favorite snacks later,” Joan said. “That or drop extra money into her purse when she’s not looking.”
“Provided she doesn’t catch you at it,” he warned, giving her a half smile. He really admired Ms. Hudson and was glad that Joan had chosen her to help with the areas of her life where her injuries would hinder her.
“It’ll be good training then since I can’t do much right now until the ribs heal,” she quipped a bit, trying to keep her mood elevated. “Who knows, she might be able to stymie you with the lock organization.”
That was something they did to help with their observation skills; Joan was getting better at it, and she was rather proud of that.
“Perhaps, Watson,” Sherlock replied. “As long as she doesn’t reorganize the library again. I’ve no wish to tear things apart trying to find what I need.”
“She’s only reorganized it once, and even you admitted it was desperately needed. I don’t think that room has been so clean since she took it upon herself to get that room taken care of.”
“No, I certainly cannot argue with you there,” the Englishman admitted. “Her assistance in the brownstone has been invaluable. It gives us more time for your training and cases.”
“Only if you remember to keep up with the dishes,” Joan said, shaking her head. Ms. Hudson had not been impressed with the pile of dishes her employer tended to let stack up, and she’d warned the man about sanitation issues. He’d heeded her warnings somewhat, though the former surgeon usually ended up finishing the chore whenever he got distracted in the middle of it.
“I do make the attempt to keep up with those chores, Watson, despite finding them very tedious.”
“Which is why I’m usually finishing them,” she asked, managing to tease him a bit. It was an old argument, one they fell back on to be a bit silly when there was need for it.
“Exactly,” Sherlock replied, rising when there was a knock at the door. “That will be the artist. Be right back, Watson.”
Joan watched him go, fingers tightening around the cup. This would not be easy, and she hoped she would be able to keep calm enough to allow her memory to remain clear. The surgeon was determined to do her best, not wanting anyone else to go through what she had.
Author’s End Note – I loved Ms. Hudson and wanted to bring her in. I am behind on my episodes and have only seen her the one time so I had to incorporate her. As far as her being male at birth, I saw how Joan accepted her for the gender she identifies as. In my mind, since that’s the case, her mind would accept her as a caretaker for the more intimate needs she’s going to have to fill in regards to her recovery. I hope everyone enjoyed this; please let me know what you thought of it. See you next chapter, Laran.
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The Rehabilitation of Dr. Joan Watson