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John, ever the good doctor, notices something not quite right about Sherlock. Biopsy, diagnosis, surgery, and radiation: Sherlock lives through thyroid cancer treatment. Think that's in poor taste? I actually kind of agree with you. This fic is written by a thyroid cancer survivor (me!) for a thyroid cancer survivor going through treatment round two. Its purpose in life is to stamp all over the nasty experience with slashy goodness. I have inserted shippy joy all over the experience, wherever I could. This is a hurt/comfort cancer story wrapped in loviness, sexytimes, and "how they got together" fun for a friend who really needs something else to think about whilst in radioative isolation. Apologies to anyone offended.