The next day brought more of the same. He surfaced briefly at mid morning, told her that he was fine, and retreated back to bed. Mid afternoon she heard the low murmur of the radio and found him lying in bed, eyes open, staring at the wall. Silent and still, so uncharacteristically still, without even a book in his hands.

'You okay?' she asked him.

'Fine,' he said, rolling over to look at her. 'I'm fine.'

'You getting up?'

'Maybe later,'

'Okay, I'll leave you to it then,' Kate said, frowning slightly, and five minutes later the radio clicked off and he was asleep again.

By seven o'clock Kate was feeling bored and twitchy, frustrated at the waste of a precious day off. Walking into the bedroom she found Sherlock awake and staring at the wall again as if it was the most fascinating thing that he had ever seen.

'What are you doing?' she asked, smiling despite herself.

'Thinking,' he said.

'Thinking about what? Is it nice in there?'

He blinked and looked at her as if confused as she came and lay on the bed facing him, blocking his view of the wall, so that he was forced to look at her instead.'

'Inside that head of yours. Is it nice?'

He closed his eyes and very quietly said, 'You of all people know the answer to that Kate.' He sounded very sad suddenly, almost apologetic, very un-Sherlock.

She kissed him gently, 'I'm sorry I didn't mean to pry, or invade. Do you want me to leave you in peace?'

His lips curled up in a smile, 'No I want you to keep disturbing me' he said as he pulled her close.

Some time later, Kate slipped out of the bed, assuming Sherlock was asleep, but he caught her hand as she moved it off his shoulder. 'Where are you going?' he asked.

'I don't have your capacity to sleep for twenty hours a day unfortunately,' she said. 'I was going to have a shower and then get some dinner. Are you getting up?'

'Will you run me a bath after you've had your shower?'

Trying to hide her surprise, badly it had to be admitted, Kate said calmly, 'Of course.'

Post bath, wrapped in his blue dressing gown, a very damp Sherlock wandered into the living room and slumped on the sofa, grabbing the remote control and changing channels without asking Kate, who was too relieved to complain.

'Do you want some food?' she asked.

'No,' he said after consideration, 'not really?'

'Will you have some food anyway, if I cook you something? Something non-threatening.'

'Can food be threatening?'

'You know what I mean.'

Not even Sherlock, Kate calculated, could resist the smell of frying bacon. 'Have you got the papers?' he asked, wandering over to the table as she was cooking.

'Yesterdays are on the side there' she said, as he flipped to the world news section and started muttering comments about people he had met.

When she put a plate of food down in front of him ten minutes later he started eating absently, still reading. Several minutes later he looked at what he was eating and smiled. 'This is the same meal that the housekeeper at home used to make for me, and leave by my bed after Mycroft had scooped me up from University yet again and brought me home. Not immediately, she'd let me sleep for twenty four hours first, and then this would appear. I'd eat it, and then the next day I'd get up and sit at the kitchen table and she'd cook me the same again as if nothing had happened.'

'Scrambled eggs and bacon is hard to resist,' Kate said smiling. 'Better?'

'Getting there, thanks.'

There was a soft knock on the door, and then John's head appeared round it to Kate's 'Come in,'

'Hi Kate,' he said, 'I thought I'd just come and check how it was - going.' He hesitated as he saw Sherlock, sitting at the kitchen table, calmly reading the papers.

'You're up,' he said uncertainly.

'So it would appear,' Sherlock said, still reading the paper and without turning round. 'Why don't you come in John, instead of skulking in the doorway?'

'And you're eating,' he said, registering the fork in Sherlock's hand.

'Your powers of deduction never cease to amaze me.'

'But its only day 2,' John said, coming and sitting himself heavily in the chair opposite Sherlock.

'And?'

'And you never get up on day 2. You always stay in bed until day 3, and you never, ever eat before day 5 at best.'

'Kate, it appears, is a better nurse than you. I'm not entirely sure why that would surprise you.'

John opened his mouth and shut it again like a goldfish.

'I have powers of persuasion that John doesn't have, or at least that I hope that he doesn't have,' Kate said with a smile.

'So what happens next?' Kate asked Sherlock later, after John had left to meet friends, and he was sitting flicking through the television channels in rapid succession.

'I'll spend the next day or two doing very little, and then in a couple of days I'll be back to normal,' he said.

Kate nodded, hesitated and then said, 'Sherlock...'

'No.' he interrupted her, not taking his eyes off the television.

'No what?'

'No, I've never wanted to take something to stop it,' he said looking at her.

'I wish you wouldn't do that,' she muttered.

'You're easy to predict,' he said.

'Have you ever taken anything?'

'Not since I was a teenager. I was on medication for a year or so after my admission, but it slowed me down too much. I was - normal, boring, I wasted so much time on sleep, and it took the edge off things, numbed everything. I didn't like it.'

He paused, Kate stayed silent, knowing that there was more to come. 'I couldn't work on it, Kate. I wouldn't be able to do what I do. It slows my brain down too much, so no, I've never been tempted to go back on medication. I would rather ride the lows than that.'

'Drugs are different now,' she said softly, 'Carbemazepine, valproate, they would slow you down less, but level things out,' she stopped herself, 'but you don't want to be leveled out, of course you don't.'

'Exactly,' Sherlock said softly. 'Did you know thats why Mycroft still administrates my Trust Fund? It was a condition of my fathers will, added after my admission. I would only get my money is a psychiatrist certified that either I was free from mental illness, or was fully compliant with medication. I've never been prepared to do that, so Mycroft still has control.'

Kate frowned and looked down at her hands, twisting on her lap. 'Seeing you like that,' she said quietly, 'it was - difficult.'

'You'll get used to it, Kate,' he said, 'John did. It always passes. I just have to ride it out.'

'But John didn't really understand what was happening inside your head, did he. He told me that he thought it was just your body catching up on sleep, but its so much more than that, isn't it.'

He took a deep breath, as if he was about to come out with a dramatic deduction and then very calmly said. 'Kate this is me, this has always been me. If you cant cope with that, then I'll understand.' His voice was unemotionless, but the concern was there, unspoken.

She reached out to cup his face, thumb lingering under his chin, forcing him to look at her. 'No,' she said simply, shaking her head, 'No, Sherlock, thats not what I'm saying. I've made your choice, you know that. I'm not going to change my mind, Its just - I wish that I could make this easier - for you, not for me.'

'If it makes you feel any better this is the best low that I've ever had,' he told her conversationally.

'Really? Why?'

'Because you were there, and that was something to hang onto, a reason to come through the other side. I've never had that before,' he said, kissing her.

And that was something, Kate thought, but was trying to shorten the lows, to make them better for him interfering, or helping? And if as John had said they were the price that he paid for the brilliance then what effect would trying to alter them have?