John first was sprung back into consciousness when a cold hand made contact with his own. The Mind Palace faded from around him and the view of Sherlock Holmes eating biscuits and laughing merrily at the result of an experiment disappeared from view.

John opened his bloodshot eyes to be greeted with the usual view of the Thames outside his window. Feeling the cold digits of a foreign hand intertwine with his own, John rolled his head to the side to see who was responsible for this wandering hand.

John blinked, and blinked again.

The starved nerve endings in his brain were sparking furiously, but not reaching a sensible rationale for what he was seeing.

"John" Sherlock murmured quietly.

The Consulting Detective had been back precisely one day. He had been to the flat to see their landlady and reserve their rooms once more; he had popped in to Scotland Yard to enjoy the shocked faces of the Homicide team and then he had headed to John's ward; Lestrade had explained to the detective that he needed to be patient. Mrs Hudson had explained that Sherlock needed to be gentle and his brother had insisted that he be understanding when he did see John again.

Sherlock was unprepared for what met his eyes when he had been faced with his old friend again.

John had lost 23 lbs in weight; his eyes were sunken, bloodshot and dull. His fingernails and hair had slowed in growth speed considerably; Sherlock surmised from this that the man lying in front of him hadn't eaten a hearty meal in over a year.

Sherlock leaned forward and ran his free hand down the side of the Doctor's face.

He could see from the wideness of his dark eyes and the 'open and close' manoeuvre his jaw was currently performing repetitively; that John was not able to comprehend Sherlock's presence.

"John, I am here. I have been away for some time, and now I am back. How are you feeling?" Sherlock spoke quietly, calmly and reassuringly as he gazed into his old friends' eyes.

John was only able to nod, once, in reply.

"I am going to stay here with you, ok?" Sherlock said gently.

John nodded once more.

"And we are going to eat, ok?" Sherlock spoke firmly this time.

Without waiting for John's reaction to this statement, a nurse arrived with a tray. She placed a well prepared meal in front of John, pressed the button for the bed to manoeuvre the soldier into a sitting position and gave Sherlock the tray with another plate on top.

"Thanks" Sherlock murmured without taking his eyes from John.

Sherlock understood the disgust that John so evidentially felt towards the hot food, and placed his tray aside, he sat gingerly on the edge of the visitors chair and reached for John's plate.

Cutting the meal up into small pieces, Sherlock pierced a tiny bite of beef with the plastic fork and raised it toward John's mouth.

The Doctor looked at Sherlock with silent widened eyes once more, pleading for the man in front of him to remove the food.

Sherlock shook the fork encouragingly whilst squeezing John's other hand, reassuring the soldier of his presence.

John opened his mouth a little and Sherlock placed the beef inside, ensuring that John would actually chew before he removed the cutlery.

Slowly, they made their way through the meal, John improving by the second. However, not a word was spoken throughout the feeding process, only longing glances were exchanged between the two men until John had finished the entire meal.

"There, see, all gone" Sherlock said with a small smile as he placed the plate on the tray beside him. "Do you want more?" Sherlock asked, reaching for the other plate that remained full.

John still did not answer as he stared at the taller man in wonder, fear and surprise.

Sherlock proceeded to cut up the food on the other plate and carried on feeding his friend, ensuring that he fed himself a little of each item on the plate too.

"I think they have scones on the dessert menu today, would you like me to ask for some?" Sherlock asked kindly.

John's stomach answered for him as it gave an almighty growl. Sherlock stood swiftly and squeezed John's hand once more before preparing to leave the room in search of a nurse. He halted immediately at John's bone breaking grip on his hand.

"D-D-Don't-t…l-l-l-eave-e" John managed to say before panting slightly at the effort it had taken to talk.

"I'm not leaving, John, just getting a nurse" Sherlock said with a puzzled expression, for a moment, John saw the old Sherlock.

"B-b-button" John tried as he nudged his head in the direction of the call button.

Sherlock sat down once more and reached across the broken Doctor to push the button beside his hand.

John smiled faintly up at the Consulting Detective, not breaking his gaze as he blinked dumbly at him.

"Oh, John, why do things affect you so badly?" Sherlock sighed as though defeated.

John watched the interaction between the nurse and the detective and saw Sherlock accept the plate of scones, the recently consumed food had helped John's mind come to the conclusion that Sherlock was real. He was here and he was real.

Immediately, John started to feel much better, stronger even.

As Sherlock spread the strawberry jam rather excessively across the top of a scone half, he noticed John starting to move, his legs starting to twitch from inactivity and his arms becoming strong enough to assist him into sitting further upright.

The Detective smiled widely as he deduced the real source of John's 'mystery illness'.