I do not own this show at all. I said it would arrive this year and it is here, for those that have waited for it thank you for waiting. This is a continuation of the He Feared Series and it is easier to understand if you have read the first three one shots. The order is He Feared He Would Never know, He Feared it Would Never Stop, and He Feared He Would Never Understand. Now that that is out of the way please enjoy the story.
John was beginning to get tired of the constant grey and white that flooded his vision. The lack of color and life in the facility was making him restless and it felt strange to say that he longed for the war but he did. He could never say it to the doctors. He couldn't bare to think of how much more they'd try and fix him if that he practically craved the blood and the violence, the constant danger that made his heart beat out a rhythm his blood sang to. He even missed the coma where his dreams were rife with mystery and danger and London had been a battle field and Sherlock Holmes his commanding officer. He missed the friendship they had as hectic as it was he'd never have traded it for this. Waking up to this every day he almost wanted to close his eyes and drift off again into that too real dream where he was more than just something broken.
He'd changed a lot since he'd been shot in the shoulder and fell into a sleep he wouldn't wake from. He didn't laugh anymore, not unless he was on the edge of hysterics. He didn't talk as much anymore because no one was there to talk to. The coma had changed him mentally and physically too. His muscles had atrophied, his skin had lost almost all of its color, and his eyes were like blank pools of brown blue water. He had to use a cane to steady every step or he'd fall his muscles too weak to hold him though he was almost strong enough to walk without it. He'd thrown himself into physical therapy and he was on his feet at least even if he was confined in this lifeless place where the halls seemed to go on forever and he was escorted back to his rooms if he caused trouble. Trouble being if he got too far away from his room, or picked a fight with another patient, or just complained once too often.
Right now he was in therapy listening as his therapist tried yet again to convince him to let go of the only thing that kept him sane in this utterly boring place. He now knew why Sherlock had shot at the walls, closed in at this place he felt like shooting things too. Now it was simple to understand why the man cried out bored and did things that no one with a lick of sense would do. In his dreams he knew Sherlock but he understood him better in this place. There was a reason he hadn't yet let go of the man from his dreams and it was the same reason he was in therapy at the moment instead of enjoying his time sitting on a bench in the courtyard.
"You know he wasn't real John." Dr. Thompson said slowly like he was talking to a child and not a fully grown man. Dr. Thompson was short but lean and it looked like a strong enough breeze would be enough to carry him away. John sometimes imagined the man floating up into the air like a kite. He even wished that Doctor Thompson would be picked up by the wind and never return.
"Sherlock Holmes is a figment of your imagination. No matter how real he seems to be he was just your minds way of dealing with the trauma. It's not uncommon for people in comas to have dreams, even vivid dreams that they believe are real." Dr. Thompson said adjusting his glasses again looking at him with beady eyes that together with his greased back brown greying hair made him look like a rat.
John's hands tightened into fists but he did nothing more than stew in his anger and talk in a tone that made it clear how certain he was. "I'm not crazy."
"I'm not saying that John." The man said with a tone that was almost too understanding as he crossed his legs and he pushed his ridiculously thin glasses up his nose. "I'm only saying that if you want to move on with your life you have to accept the truth and the truth is Sherlock Holmes isn't real. I want you to say it John. Even if you don't believe it now you need to say it and it will help you. Sherlock Holmes is not real and I do not need him anymore."
"Sherlock Holmes doesn't feel like a dream." John said firmly unable to believe that he'd ever be able to imagine someone that vividly alive.
Dr. Thompson exhaled and shook his head. "I know that you want to believe that John but you can't keep chasing after a fantasy, it's not healthy."
"This place is a fantasy." John said bitterly a touch of false laughter on his lips, his eyes suddenly as cold as the artic winds. "I haven't heard anything about the outside world in my entire time here. It's been months you'd think I'd know something about what's going on in the world. I haven't seen the news, I haven't seen a newspaper, and I haven't heard from a single person since I've woken up. Where is Harry? Why hasn't my sister called me?"
Dr. Thompson smiled in a too kind way his thin lips twitching as though the gesture was unnatural. "Your sister has many problems John and as you know she's currently in rehab for her addiction. As she knows about your issues I feel that she's just protecting herself from a negative influence on her progress."
"Then why aren't I allowed to call her she could use my support?" John said standing to his feet leaning on his cane to keep him steady. "Why haven't I gotten a single letter or phone call since I've woken up? Why is it that anytime I ask a question about what's happened since I've been in a coma everyone pretends that I asked about the weather or how their bloody dog is doing? Why do I get the feeling that this place isn't what you're making it out to be?"
"You're displaying increasingly violent and paranoid behavior Dr. Watson." The man said with an excess of disdain on the word Doctor like John didn't deserve the title anymore. "This facility isn't just to protect you; it's to protect other people from you. With the way you are acting now it would be a disaster to release you. The reason you have not yet seen a newspaper or the nightly news is simple. We believe that the negativity it produces would impede your recovery it may even set it back. And the reason you're not yet allowed to talk with your sister is that it would be a setback for both of your recoveries."
John really did laugh then though there was no humor in it. "You really think that this is helping Dr. Thompson?" John said with a smile that was almost malicious mirroring the disdain that the therapist had shown for his title earlier. "You might as well be talking to a wall for all the good you're doing. I don't need to be here what I need is to talk to Harriet."
Dr. Thomson smirked looking like a chess player that had finally cornered his opponent's king. "If you don't need to be here John, then why did you say Sebastian Moran the last time I asked for your name?"
Thank yous to everyone who has read, reviewed, and/or favorited the He Feared Series. Special thanks to the guest who pointed out that I put comma instead of coma in the summary the error has been fixed.
