I watched him. Every time he would come to this place more beat up than the last time. I knew that the fault of it all lay with that roommate of his. If that Sherlock man wasn't around John would be fine. If Sherlock were not able to touch his life anymore sweet innocent angelic John would be free to live the life that he was meant to live. But I am a forgiving person I will give this Sherlock one more chance to prove that he is worthy to co-exist with John.
It was a crisp Monday morning when John awoke in the hospital with bruises down his side that would keep him down for at least a week if not more. Sherlock was in the chair next to his bed curled in on himself like a pretzel.
Something must have made a sound because soon John was being watched by Sherlock and he found that he could not look away. "You should move out." the detective said quietly.
"Why would I do that?" John asked startled.
"I keep doing this to you. It's my fault that you end up here. I can't control my needs John but it's not to late for you to get out of it."
"What makes you think I want to leave? Sure it's dangerous living with you but I get so much from you that I couldn't get anywhere else."
Sherlock grinned.
"Now go home and get some rest you great idiot."
That night
John was dreaming. Both Sherlock and he had been captured.
"Goodbye John," Sherlock whispered and with that his friend ran into the path of the killers to give John time to escape.
"Sherlock! Stop!" He cried in vain.
It is to much I cannot bare another moment of my John in torment. Sherlock abuses him, they said as much themselves and the dream confirms it. He was yelling for Sherlock to stop he was screaming in fear. My John woke crying all because of the treatment of Sherlock.
Don't worry my John I will rescue you from your suffering. You will be safe with me.
John woke with his head pounding and he was highly disoriented. This wasn't the hospital. He had been in the hospital hadn't he? He could still feel the bruises on his side from the torture that he had suffered at the hands of the serial killer that he and Sherlock had been chasing. "Sherlock?" John croaked wondering if he was still in the hands of the criminal and waking up in the hospital had merely been a dream.
"Don't worry John, Sherlock isn't here, he can't hurt you anymore." said a silky voice from off to the side somewhere.
It was only then that John noticed the restraints. He pulled at them but they were too tight for him.
"Now stop that John," said the sickeningly sweet voice as it's owner walked into his line of sight which was only about a foot in front of his face due to the fact that the lighting in the room was so very dim, only long enough to load the IV with something that John was unable to identify. John tried to resist the pull of the drugs but he was to weak from the stuff still in his system and he slowly lost to unconsciousness.
Sherlock had done what John had told him to do and after a shower at home and two hours of rest he was back at the hospital ready to perch upon the chair like a statue until John was awake. Then he would tell his blogger about one of his Before John era cases. It had become somewhat of a ritual to do so when John was trapped in the hospital. It kept John entertained and Sherlock enjoyed seeing John's expressions when he got to parts that were somewhat unbelievable.
But something was wrong and Sherlock knows it the moment that he finds the door to the room John is in is open a crack. John always made the nurses shut the door. His instinct is not off. He finds the bed that had been occupied only hours before empty of its captive.
Sherlock is not prone to worry except where John Watson is concerned. There are no signs of a struggle but Sherlock is sure that something isn't right. He practically flies to the front desk hoping against hope that John is just in another room.
"Has John Watson been discharged?" He practically yells at the nurse at the station. She take into account the wild look in his eyes that she has never seen before as many times as he has been here and instantly looks it up.
"No." she says.
"Is he scheduled for anything that would move him from his room?" He asks already knowing the answer to his question.
She confirms it a few mouse clicks later. John Watson should be in his room and that was when the panic set in. Sherlock had known that he should have stayed. Something bad always happened when he left John on his own. He had found that out the time that he had gone to confront Moriarty at The Pool. After that little adventure he had made sure that his blogger was always by his side because the man was a magnet for trouble and Sherlock did not miss the irony in the fact that he was the one that was thinking that.
Quickly Sherlock pulled out his phone and texted a number that he would never use for anything less than this sort of problem.
-Need your help. John has been kidnapped. SH
-Looking into it now. MH
Mycroft could count the number of times that Sherlock had asked for help from him as an adult on one hand. Not that he hadn't helped without prompting when necessary to do so.
The moment that his private phone received a text from Sherlock he knew that whatever his brother needed was very important.
-Need your help. John has been kidnapped. SH
When he read that text he immediately sent out orders to find John Watson. Mycroft knew just how much the ex-army doctor had done for his brother and the thought of what would happen to him if the doctor was to be harmed irreparably especially after the last bit of danger had landed him in the hospital actually scared him.
-Looking into it now. MH
John woke again. He wondered if it was hours later. Or could it be days? It was always so dark in here. The only measure of time he had was with how his bruises felt. But sometimes the meds were too strong and he couldn't feel anything. His captor was always there when he woke though. Giving him water and feeding him. Taking care of his other needs and washing him with a cloth and water procured from somewhere upstairs.
Eventually the bruises healed up and he lost even that meager way of telling how much time had passed. He quickly learned that he wasn't to mention Sherlock. She got mad if he did that. He would go insane if he lost her company so he didn't talk about Sherlock. He thought about him but never spoke of him.
After a while his memories had become vague at best and he began to cry. He didn't like being held here. Immobilized and dependent. He wanted to get up and play. He remembered the sky and he remembered running. He used to run with someone. He couldn't remember him though. His name had started with an S it was a weird name. He remembered the others eyes and that he had curls but beyond that he couldn't remember.
One day she undid the straps. He tried to stand but he had forgotten how. He balled himself into the smallest ball he could trying to disappear. He didn't like it here in the dark. He was afraid and he didn't know who he was.
"It's okay John I'm here." said the only other person in his world. She helps him up and helps him walk. She took him out of the dark and up into a place that was too bright. His eyes slowly began to adjust and she leads him over to the sofa. He sat and she cuddled him. She stroked his hair and let him lay his head on her.
Time passed. John wasn't sure how much. "Have to wee wee," he said gripping himself. All he had on was a very long shirt. He hadn't been clothed before but now that he was out of the dark place she had put a shirt on him.
She smiled at him and led him to the toilet. He was able to do it himself once he knew what to do. After that she made lunch and they sat and watched telly.
Later she took him into a room. It was painted blue and had a bed. He remembered beds, they were soft. The sheets were dark blue with trucks on it.
"Get in the bed," she tells him.
He obeyed he wanted her to be happy. When she was happy she was nice. He liked when she was nice.
From a drawer she pulled out a bulky white thing and it took him a minute to recognize it for what it was. It was a nappy. He didn't need one of those. He wouldn't wee in the bed would he? He doesn't know. He remembers beds but not this one and he hasn't slept in one in so long.
She puts it on him and tucks him into bed. She kisses him on the forehead and he falls asleep.
He awakes with a cry. He had a very bad dream and his nappy is wet because he couldn't stop himself.
She rushes in having heard him through the monitor and quiets him. Tells him that it's alright. She pulls back the sheet and changes him. She sings to him tells him that she loves him and that he is a good boy.
More time passes and one day she lets him go outside in the backyard. There is a very tall fence that he can not see over but he soon forgets this when he catches sight of all the toys that are laid out for him to play with.
She doesn't play with him but she does watch him. He is lonely though so he decides that he will invent himself a friend. The person is a boy just like him but he is skinny and pale, he has dark floppy curls and a really long coat. His eyes are many colors and John calls him Sherre. It sounds like a girls name but he feels that it is close to something and he doesn't understand why. He also knows that she would not approve of his friend so he lets her think that his friend is a girl.
They play a lot and John imagines that Sherre watches over him in his sleep. He knows that Sherre doesn't need to sleep as often as he does. Sherre doesn't eat much either and he get bored really easy. But John likes him because he is different and that makes him cool.
John was content with his life. He had fun everyday he wasn't lonely and he had someone to take care of him. So naturally it was the only the next day when the big men appeared and took him away from his home.
Mycroft and Lestrade were getting a bit worried. It had been three months since John vanished from the hospital but Sherlock wouldn't give up. He had followed every clue that he could find but that had all been fruitless.
Sherlock hadn't consulted on a case in months and if Mycroft hadn't been paying the rent Sherlock would be very much in debt. Not that he was at the flat much anyway. He was always out trying to find John. When he was at home he merely changed clothes and left again unless he was so tired that he passed out. Simply put he was running himself into the ground and it was only a matter of time before he either found who he was looking for or killed himself trying.
Goodbye my darling John. I took care of you as long as I could. They do not appreciate this they will most certainly send you back to him. Resist him John. For that is the only way that you will be safe from that devil. I will not blame you if you cannot for he is a crafty one. I love you my John.
Sherlock wasn't sure where he was. He was exhausted and so was his mind but he couldn't stop looking. To stop would mean he gave up and he knew that he could never do that to John. John was the only friend that he had ever made on his own. Therefore John is special in more ways than one. Sherlock knows John is alive though he can feel it so he continues to search for him knowing he can't give up.
Solitude no longer suits him the way it did in the BJE.
Then suddenly his phone chimes.
-Found him but there is a problem. Come to Bart's right away. MH
Sherlock is instantly alarmed at this. Mycroft always prefers to call and with news this important the problem must be very big. But Sherlock is running already because whatever it is John is alive and that is enough at the moment.
When he gets to the hospital he is out of breath and for a moment the staff stares at him wondering if he is going to pass out. But he doesn't because he needs to see John. He can spot Mycroft's man a mile away so he knows what room that he needs to go to. The guard steps aside. He opens the door and he sees him. It's John. Sure his hair hasn't been cut in it's usual way so it had grown out there was the lack of his usual clothes but it was still him.
The shock of it all might be why it takes him a second to notice it. But then he sees the problem that Mycroft had mentioned. John is sucking his thumb and is wearing a very long shirt and a nappy. But he doesn't look at all ashamed. It only takes him moments to see what that means and he wonders if the John he knows is totally gone. There is nobody else here and so it is inevitable that even with the toys that someone has given him to play with John looks his way. He seems puzzled though. As if Sherlock is the one that has changed.
"John?" He asks worried that John won't even know him.
So it comes as a total shock when John smiles at him and launches himself into his arms. Sherlock really has no idea what to do and the situation isn't helped when Mycroft comes through the door. Sherlock looks pleadingly at his older brother.
Taking pity on his poor little brother Mycroft gently taps John on the shoulder. John releases Sherlock so that he can turn around and see the new person that is in his room. John is sure that he met this person before but he can't remember it.
"Do you remember my brother?" the man asks.
John shakes his head. But then he nods to. "I member him little bit and I baseded my friend off him. The lady that took care of me never let me have friends so I made one up. I named him Sherre cause it sounds like a girl name and I think she would have been mad if she knew he was a boy. You won't tell on me will you cause I don't want her to be mad. She is mean when she mad."
"John you won't see her again. She did something bad so she's not coming back."
"What about me? Am I bad too? "
"No. you see she took you away from your home that was the bad thing she did."
"But she wasn't mean 'cept that time when she made me be in the dark and when I made her mad at me."
"Be that as it may there were people here that missed you."
"You mean Sherre right? I missed him too but I never could say because that was one of the not good things that would get me in trouble. "
"Would you mind staying here for a bit more John so that I can speak to my brother?"
John shook his head and went back to the toys.
Once outside the room Mycroft said "I'm sorry Sherlock."
Sherlock looked at Mycroft. "Why?"
"Mycroft shot him a questioning look.
"All this time I was scared that I would never find him until he was killed. But not only is he here he knows me. He is still in there and despite what she has done to him mentally the thing he choose to hold onto was me. How can I possibly be upset by this?"
"You see that he had regress mentally to about the age of six?"
"I'm not an idiot Mycroft."
"And you will take care of him?"
"Who else?"
"You'll have to childproof the rooms. Can you do that?"
For a moment Sherlock was startled he had forgotten that part. He wouldn't be able to do experiments for a while. There was also the fact that he would be forced to do the shopping and he wouldn't be able to go to the crimes scenes unless he handed John over to Mrs. Hudson and he was sure that if John ever returned to his senses that would scar him for life.
Was he willing to do all of this? Was John worth that much self-sacrifice? There was only one answer.
"Yes I can do that he is still my friend even as he is."
For just a moment Sherlock saw a gleam of surprise and pride in his brother's eyes.
Taking a breath he walked back into the room to tell John that it was time for them to go home.
A/N this was really experimental. I came up with this idea a few days ago and I wanted to see how it would play out. I would really love some feedback. I think I might turn it into a series if I get enough response.