Define Vulnerability

Disclaimer: Sherlock, John and all other characters mentioned belong to BBC, Mr. Moffat, Mr. Gatiss, or Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. I just borrowed them for fun. I wrote this for my personal enjoyment and to improve my English; no copyright infringement intended. No money changed hands, and no profit is being made.

I am really glad Mr. Moffat and Mr. Gatiss created and own them, and that they made this terrific show. Thank you so much!

.

Takes place about ten days after Sherlock's return, shortly after TEH. Mary is away in the North for advanced training, so John decides he wants to stay at 221b for a few days. Sherlock seems to have been withdrawn since the terrorist case was solved, and, although John said he had forgiven him, Sherlock appears not to have forgiven himself.

Things are kind of tense and difficult between them and John sees the need to work on their relationship. A part of him is still angry with Sherlock, yet he is in desperate need to restore their friendship.

.

This chapter was beta-ed by ImaginaryNumber. Many thanks to her!

.

There is now a Russian Translation of this story.

Many thanks to petergirl10 who translated my story!

It must have been so much work and she did it in only a few weeks! Thank you!

To find it, go to her profile page: u/5923591/petergirl10

…

….

Chapter 1 - Tuesday

"Bloody hell," John muttered, staring at the sheet of paper in his hands.

"What is it?" Lestrade and Sherlock also stared at the papers that were spread over Lestrade's desk.

"Uh!" Sherlock exhaled, exited.

"What do you see?" Lestrade demanded.

"That's a nasty cocktail…" John started to explain, "This is a drug that is used in ICU for paralysing patients. It needs to be used in combination with sedatives, or the patient experiences a waking nightmare..."

"You are saying the bloke is paralysing and sedating his victims and then killing them?"

"Eh, not really… and that's what's so nasty about it… I can't see anything in here that might work as a sedative," John stated in horror, scanning the sheets for more information.

"This one might even help to ensure the autonomous nervous system works fine," Sherlock added, pointing at a chemical formula that meant nothing to Lestrade.

Sherlock's voice did not carry any hint of emotion.

"Oh God. You are saying they were paralysed but fully awake?"

"Yes," Sherlock stated somewhat impatiently.

"Why?"

"It would take over three hours to go over all the possible answers to that question, so grant me one or two days and I'll have reduced the possibilities to a number that can be explained in… maybe thirty minutes."

John rolled his eyes.

"The thing is, Sherlock, the last two victims were killed at intervals of nine days… The next nine days are over in… five days…"

"How long between their disappearances and their murders?"

"Seven to eight days, depending."

"On what?"

"We don't know yet."

"Why didn't you call sooner?"

"Don't start that discussion again. The first victim … it looked like suicide. I only got into this case last night when the second victim was found in London."

"Where was the first?"

"Plymouth… So in fact you were brought in really fast. Those results came in an hour ago. I called you immediately."

"There are indications here that they are paralysed for at least the last two days of their ordeal," John said, looking up from the report.

.

"Were there IV marks?… How was it administered?" Sherlock wanted to know.

"We don't know. The body is at Barts with Mrs Hooper."

Sherlock turned to the door.

"Where are you going?"

"Barts, of course."

"Wait, wait. Let's take the files with us, the ride will take some time during rush hour."

"I'd prefer a cab."

"No," came back from both John and Lestrade.

Now Sherlock was the one rolling his eyes. "You two can take the police car, then. Meet you there." He was out of the door.

"What just happened?" Lestrade asked.

"I'm not really sure... I… He seemed distracted but wouldn't tell me if he was working on another case," John worried aloud.

"He never liked police cars. But this if different… He's… he seems distressed, but that is so unlike Sherlock."

"Or depressed, but that's not like him, either. Something is definitely the matter, I plan to stay over there for a few days to find out what it is."

"You're staying at 221b?"

"Not yet. Going over Thursday night."

"You know chances are high he'll figure out you are there to… watch him?"

"He likely already has, that's probably why he's so distant."

"Maybe. Let's go and pick this up in the car."

.

St Bartholomew's Morgue

When John and Lestrade arrived, Sherlock was already immersed in a discussion with Molly while inspecting the body with some pincers and a magnifier.

"I found IV marks on the left leg," Sherlock muttered.

"Hi, nice to see you…" Molly looked up to greet John and Lestrade, "That's maybe why they were overseen on the first victim… or the perpetrator used a different technique then, the body of the first victim is on its way over here. I will do the autopsy first thing tomorrow morning."

"Thank you Molly. You are of great help, as usual."

"Oh, you're welcome," she smiled up at him.

John and Lestrade raised their eyebrows and looked at each other, even more puzzled now.

"I'll call you later, Molly. Let's get something to eat?" Sherlock headed for the door. John and Lestrade followed, wondering who Sherlock was addressing.

"Thank you Miss Hooper," Lestrade smiled at her.

"Are you coming with us, Greg?" Sherlock's voice sounded like he was talking on autopilot.

John frowned. What was going on? Had Sherlock just called Lestrade by his first name… accidentally?

Lestrade was too perplexed to say anything, and just followed them to the main entrance. John slowed down and Sherlock finally stopped at the sidewalk lifting his hand to call a taxi. Lestrade caught up with John.

"He just thanked her and he wants to eat lunch… and he called me by my first name!" Lestrade and John were several steps behind Sherlock. "You really need to keep an eye on him."

"Do you think we missed more than one danger night?" John asked in a hushed voice.

"God, you think he...?"

"No!... No, I just don't know what to think. Any one of a hundred possibilities. You knew him back then, when he was… self-medicating."

"Yes, but back then he was not like he is now... Well, maybe the depressed part… but otherwise… no… He was rude and hot-headed, like a spoiled child, doing only what suited him, no matter how inappropriate. Sherlock-when-you-first-met-him multiplied by 10."

"Did he tell you what he was up to during the past 24 months?"

"Not really… He's kind of closed up about it. When he first tried to explain I gave him a bloody nose. Maybe he fears he'll get another one. You?"

"Not really… Though I called him a bastard and hugged him."

"He let you do that, or did he throw a fit?"

"He allowed it."

John raised his eyebrows. "Well, glad you did…. But all in all… this is not good."

Lestrade made an affirming noise. They got within ear-shot of Sherlock and loudly agreed to text each other if there were any news on the case.

They came nearer and a taxi stopped. Sherlock was already getting inside a cab, John thought for a moment that he might leave without him.

When John sat down next to Sherlock he expected a knowing and unnerved gaze that said I-know-what-you've-been-talking-about, but instead, Sherlock sat upright, his back not touching the seat, staring into space.

The cabbie waited for John to nod then started the car.

"Where do you want to eat?" John would go along with whatever Sherlock suggested. The consultant needed to gain some weight; he had become even thinner than he had been before his fake death. He did not look good at all.

"Angelo's."

The cab slid into the constant flow of moving cars.

…

…

A/N:

I'd love to get constructive criticism or some feedback.