Were anyone looking, they would have seen a strange, yet peaceful being taking a nap. No one would have noticed the subtle lines of distress in his brow as he slept. That was probably for the best.

There is a presence here. I'd thought as much from the start, but now I am certain that whatever it is that lurks these caves is intelligent and highly dangerous. It seems to have full knowledge of my movements, in fact, it seems to have full knowledge of my every thought as well, for it responds to me.

It is me. I'm the presence. It is me, I know it must be me because there is absolutely nothing in these caves. I can feel it whispering my weaknesses and pulling me further away from humanity.

I never liked my humanity anyway. Having it never helps. The presence would tempt me into accepting it, so much so that I occasionally would let it have control as I slept.

But sometimes, it would take over when I was awake.

That was the worst.

The feeling was quite akin to sleep paralysis, where it would feel as though my entire body could not move and it was painful to try. The overwhelming terror I felt was like nothing I had ever experienced. There was no real danger, yet somehow I was terrified.

'No. There was a real danger. That thing was eating at your mind.'

What a ridiculous idea. Then again, considering how unusual the situation is already, there may in fact be some sort of being residing in my head, using my mind as an outlet for it's own.

It's happening again. I can feel it, I'm sinking and my mind is being dulled. Soon, all I will be able to do is feel and panic, without a coherent thought left. If only I could force myself to be asleep for this, it would be less pa-... ...

... ...

Sherlock shot up wide awake, breathing in quickly as though he'd been lacking air. He panted for a few seconds before calming, wiping his face with his hand just to make sure he hadn't been crying. His senses were heightened, and he knew that John was watching him with concern through the small crack in the doorway. He didn't want John to see him like this, the more he could cover up, the better.

"I know you're there, John. I can hear you."

John was unsurprised, opening the door all the way to step inside. John probably couldn't see him in this light anyway, but Sherlock could see quite well in the dark. He could see plain just how betrayed John looked in that moment, and it really was not what he'd been expecting. A look of pity, maybe, but this?

"Nightmares, Sherlock?" John walked slowly to the bed, sitting on the edge. "Was it the cave?" Sherlock stayed silent. "Right. Obviously. You're going to have to fill me in on what happened back there. What could possibly have happened to make you like this when you were alone in a cave for months?"

Silence

"Well, if you don't want to tell me go ahead, but just know that if you ever do want to try and have some normal, basic, human interaction, I'll be in the other room. Although, you might just be entirely incapable of that by now." He nodded uniformly to Sherlock and began to stiffly walk out before Sherlock finally spoke, stopping him in his tracks. Unfortunately, it was too quiet for him to understand the first time around. "What?" He paused and looked back at Sherlock's half sitting form on the bed.

"I wasn't alone, John." He stood there, several questions fighting to be asked first, with none of them winning the fight.

Sherlock continued, going slowly as to avoid stumbling over his words in his somewhat emotionally unstable state. "There was something there, in the darkness, but it wasn't there, it was- It was me. It spoke in my voice and it was always there, taunting me."

"I was always and never alone."


Several days had passed. The Doctor generally left Sherlock and John alone, though would, on occasion, ask for their thoughts and ideas regarding the time distortions. Not much had come of it thus far. Well, not much aside from a couple mild explosions, and a lot of endless, heated conversations and arguments between the Doctor and Sherlock that would rapidly change subject, which John would no doubt be trying to steer back to the problems at hand.

One such a conversation had been in progress when they were suddenly interrupted by a knock on the TARDIS. The conversation stopped immediately as the Doctor curiously went to inspect their visitor.

Or, as it turned out, their many visitors.


The Doctor opened the door just enough, not wanting whomever they were to see inside the console room. His eyebrows raised when he saw who it was.

Gandalf smiled pleasantly, pushing aside a grumpy Thorin. "I'm sorry to disturb you again in your home, but we're looking for a friend. A hobbit friend, to be precise."

The Doctor grinned, standing aside as John came up behind him, walking directly over to Thorin and Gandalf and hugging them both without a word. Gandalf hugged back, but Thorin could only slap him on the back and say "Glad the beast didn't roast you."

A pause. 'Bilbo' let go, stepping back. Over the course of time, John had really felt like maybe he was Bilbo, and these people, although they were a strange and flawed lot, had become his companions. He owed them an explanation, but they weren't going to like it.

"We need to talk."