I was so angry the way John sometimes treats Sherlock. I mean, wasn't it clear it was a panic attack?
He had never seen Sherlock like this. Ever before. John couldn't believe that a thing such as a hound, could trigger such a response in a man like Sherlock. No, sire. Sherlock kept his distance from emotions. He had noted this when it came to The Woman.
But now, he had more pressing matters.
"Sherlock, you are panicking."
Yeah, shove it in his face. Because Sherlock didn't like to be cared for, and there was no way in hell John wanted to be harsh with a patient. No way. It was much better to be strict.
Sherlock was sweating, the drink (a drink?!) shaking hand was disappearing at an alarming rate. He was trying to gain control over his body, but the more he was trying, the more control he lost.
Just what had he seen?
He glared at John angrily. According to him, he was intruding in something personal. But if he wanted privacy, a pub was the last place you would sit.
John saw his eyes glaze over and made a decision.
"Lets get out of here, Sherlock."
To his relief, Sherlock nodded. Good. Because John really didn't want a scene here.
"It really bothers you? What people say?"
The two men exited the pub. By now, Sherlock was trembling so bad, he was holding on to John. John felt the people eye him closely.
They found themselves standing in an empty clearing, with the stars ahead and the grass beneath. John had never seen anything so beautiful.
He sat down and pulled the stiff and shaking man beside him.
"I saw the hound, John."
Sherlock sounded angry.
"I believe you." Lied John. He was ready to suppress his anger if it meant getting Sherlock out of this...pathetic state.
"Its calmer here, Sherlock you need to focus." John said gently.
Sherlock raised his chin and gawked at the stars as a little child.
" Mother used to show these to me."
"I hope you know what a star is." John stated mildly.
"Yeah." He was calming down a bit, "She told me Redbeard was there."
Redbeard. Redbeard who?
" Its a nice thought." He told Sherlock. Pretty much, if he was opening up, John wouldn't push it.
"Its a hateful lie."
John had no answer to that. Sherlock closed his eyes and began inhaling air slowly.
"Better?" He asked.
Sherlock blinked at the stars.
" I don't know, John."