.

'There you go, John, your clothes all nice and clean, and I even mended that gash on the arm for you', Mrs Hudson fussed over John as they sat at the breakfast table, the next morning. John looked better, more rested, even if the dark circles under his eyes seemed to have nested and procreated there overnight. 'Your mended jumper doesn't look right, but it should do for today. Are you sure you wouldn't rather rest some more, dear?'

John gave her a sweet reassuring smile. 'I'll be fine, Mrs Hudson, please don't worry. I'm just going to go pay a visit at the hospital, and Sherlock wants to go with me. Besides, the kidnapping is over, it's in the past now.'

Mrs Hudson gave Sherlock a troubled look before turning her attention to the water kettle. Keeping busy helping the boys was the best she could do for them now. She still remembered too well the mess Sherlock was the day before and that awful, terrible video. She was glad Sherlock had ruined his phone, there was no hurry in John watching that.

'I don't trust Sherrinford, John.'

John looked to his friend, tilting his head to the side. 'I've noticed. Sherlock, I don't know what happened that drove you and Mycroft from your brother, but I trust the man I met yesterday. And he hadn't it easy. Perhaps you could give him a second chance.'

Sherlock noticeably declined the chance to talk about what had drove him and his elder brother apart. 'Please don't be naïve, John.'

'That's okay, I get it, all families carry secrets. I accept that, and I accept you've got your reasons. I'll I say is... The man was held captive under enemy pressure for a couple of weeks. Try to go easy on him. There's no need to dwell on the past today. You, and I, and him, can all have a nice talk despite what may have happened around thirty-five years ago.'

Sherlock sighed. That was John all over. 'Why are you so sure he wouldn't have lied to you?'

John took a deep breath. 'Because of his mindset yesterday. I know that mindset. It's beyond the capability of lying, faking. When you have been under such dire conditions, without hope for this long... Only the truth remains. It's so much more of an effort to lie than it is to tell the truth, Sherlock. When you are a prisoner for long enough, only the truth comes out of you anymore. You have no more energy left for alternative realities. There is only silence and memories. I know that. I saw that before. I saw it yesterday again.'

'John.'

'I tried my best to give him hope, even though he was freaking me out. That could be me. I could still be there, Sherlock, only I have you as my friend. You found me. Probably someone out there got his ransom note and didn't do a thing about it. That aggravates me. I'm the lucky one, do you understand?'

'John, please.'

'What?'

'Understand there is a reason for my distrust. It doesn't mean I cannot appreciate what you went through yesterday before I managed to get you out of there, or the apparent support he may have given you. No matter how much you play it as a small thing, I know it wasn't so.'

'Sherlock, we're late', John cut him off. Sherlock wasn't going to have that conversation with the former soldier. The detective assented despite his reservations, his green eyes still evaluating John, at all times.