Chapter 3

„Mr. Holmes, there is something you should know. After the detonation Dr. Watson's head must have bumped on the crates, he was hiding behind. This caused a Grade III-Concussion to his brain. Please take a look at these MRI-Pictures." Sherlock took a step closer to the light-table on which the pictures of John's skull and brain had been placed. He could see a slightly darker region in the area of his friends' forehead.

It was now the third day after the explosion. John was awake now but he wasn't awake in the common sense. The evening before Sherlock had to leave when the doctor had responded to his call. He hadn't been allowed to see John again for the rest of the night. He had sat down on the same bench he had spend the night before and waited. Only for a second the possibility of returning home had crossed his mind, but this hadn't been an option. He had to stay there. He would be here. This had been his second night without sleep. Twice a nurse had come by and offered him some tea but he had refused.

He had been going over the time before the explosion in his mind again and again. It had been like a movie that was playing over and over in his head. He had tried to analyze every second. Where had he made the mistake that had brought John here? He must have done something wrong that morning, he had been pretty sure. He had believed that John would be safe behind the crates.

And how did Moriarty fit in this scenario? He had been silent for over a year now. Sherlock hadn't been sure if it really had been Moriarty's plot. It felt wrong. Moriarty would have been more elegant. The puzzle on his website had been easy to solve, too obvious. No, Moriarty doesn't work that way, he had thought. So who could it be? Which criminal in London was interested in killing him and John Watson? Sherlock had frantically gone through the possible candidates, but there were too many to find the initiator right now. He had to wait until the crime lab found something. The odd thing was that he had not felt the urge as usually to do the forensics himself. His place was here. His job was to wait until they would let him visit John again.

At nine o'clock in the morning the waiting had been over and he had been accompanied by a nurse to see the doctor. The results from the tests had arrived.

The doctor pointed to the darker region of John's forehead. "I'm afraid, Dr. Watson hit his head very hard. As you can see the brain was slightly damaged in this area. We have run all the tests and we are sure, that the concussion caused an akinetic mutism." The doctor paused, but Sherlock knew already what this meant. John was out of coma and awake but would not talk or respond to anyone or anything at all. An akinetic mutism was often caused by concussions. It was a neurological syndrome, which made John silent and unable to communicate. He lowered his head and closed his eyes. Then he took a deep breath.

"Mr. Holmes, please listen carefully. The Akinetic mutism is a medical term describing patients who tend neither to speak nor move. It is the result of the frontal lobe injury." The doctor paused again.

"There is something else you should know." he went on. "This mutism is a special form. Normally the brain heals fast without medical help. No treatment is needed. A few days in bed and the patient will be as good as new. But here…The patient must want to heal. It is all about the willpower to talk and walk, to live. If Dr. Watson doesn´t want to get up and talk, then he might never do it again. If he has lost his will to communicate, it might be permanent." "Sometimes it is not only the concussion that causes the mutism." The doctor watched Sherlock closely. In a low voice he added "Sometimes the mental state of the patient is the cause, too. Or it prevents the healing."

Sherlock turned around. Slowly walking to the window, his mind was racing. John would never be John again. Never again he would make Sherlock eat, or make tea, or buy some milk, complain about him playing the violin at three o'clock in the morning. Look at him with these radiant eyes. Just silence where once his friend had been. But there had to be a way to make John talk again, to be himself again. Sherlock let out a silent sigh. All the time he had known, it was John who had kept him sane. It had been John, who had connected him to emotions. It was John, who had told him to shut up if he was saying something extremely rude. John had made him the closest thing to a human being he could ever be. He was his conscience. Sherlock never had thought that this could change. But it had. By losing John Sherlock had lost his connection to his heart. And he had lost his only friend. The only person in the world he trusted like himself. This was not acceptable.

"What can I do to make him want it? To get his will back? To get him out of the dark?" Sherlock demanded. "I will do anything."

"Honestly Mr. Holmes, there isn't much you can do. Strangely enough, on request Dr. Watson is moving a little bit. If we tell him to eat and drink he eats and drinks. If we give him clothes he puts them on. He responds to the commands the nurses are giving him. He is interested in his environment. He knows what's happening around him. He just does not interact. And we do not expect more for the moment. I advise you to admit Dr. Watson to a nursing home. There he will be cared for best. After a few days of monitoring you can also take him with you, if you wish. He is easy to take care of. And if he returns to his familiar surroundings it might help."

"Anything else, I should know?" Sherlock was only whispering.

"Hm, yes. There is one thing that you should know. One of the tests we were running was an EEG. And the results were a little bit strange. While Dr. Watson is awake, the EEG-waves are expectedly flat, due to the mutism. His brain's shut down every region that is not needed. But if he is sleeping, the EEG-waves circle. It looks like he is captured in an infinite loop of a dream or vision. It is only a guess, but he might re-live the last seconds before the detonation again and again every night."

Sherlock was taken aback. Reliving that moment again and again was like being in hell. He just couldn't imagine how that would feel. He had to get John out of this never ending nightmare. His decision what to do with John was made in an instant.

"I will take him home."