Chapter 25

Mary found her ability to formulate words the fastest, "Is there something in particular you wanted me to make a note of?"

"No, nothing in particular, I don't believe so for now. I need to think first." Sherlock bounced the device from one hand to the other trying to determine for himself what exactly he meant by showing it to his friends.

"Ok, just take your time dear. I'll put on some tea, it'll help you think." Mary gave his hand a gentle squeeze, then cocked her head to the kitchen and eyed her husband to follow suit.

With the couple absent from the sitting room, Molly found herself alone with a troubled man deep at war in his mind.

"Sherlock," Molly murmured softly, "Sherlock please say something."

He did no such thing, instead his fist tightened over the carbon fibre so much his knuckles turned as white as the cane.

"Sherlock," her small and nibble fingers pried the cause for such pain out of his hand and set it aside before it splintered into shards and cut his palm, "You promised to talk to me, remember?" She leant closer and whispered once more, "Please?"

His clear cerulean orbs locked on instantly to her soft-brown ones. A face hardened with tumultuous emotions juxtaposed with one expressing so much empathy summarised the entire ambiance of the room.

"Molly, what am I to say?" Sherlock questioned gruffly, "l myself don't even know what to make of everything right now, so how am I suppose to express them to you?" A dejected sigh escaped his lips sent a sharp prick into Molly's tender heart.

"That's okay Sherlock," she patted his hand and didn't flinch when he grasped hers unexpectedly, "you'll find the right words to express what you think and feel. I'm here. We're all here to help you. Don't hide anything from us, it'll just make it difficult for you. Please don't."

The range steadily grew hotter and hotter heating up the water whilst John pattered around the tiny kitchen in search of tea making supplies, as his flatmate had the unfortunate habit of carelessly placing such crucial goods in to oddest places. It came to no surprise when John at last found the tea leaves bin stacked behind a rack of 10ml test tubes in the cupboard with crisps and biscuits. Thankfully, out of all of Sherlock's vices, his experimental equipment was always in tip-top condition when not being used for some scary concoction, The glass was sterelised thoroughly and wiped so no residue would create streaks, thus John didn't have to fear what foreign substance or pathogens would contaminate the precious tea. After all, without properly made tea, John wouldn't be able to function. Tea could be called the equivalent of well-brewed coffee for their neighbouring country across the pond, one who also have an intense affinity for hot drinks no matter the day or season.

"What do you suppose all that was, John?" Mary thought out loud waving with The List for emphasis.

"I don't know, I wish I did. But I haven't a clue. I don't think anyone does at this point, not even himself," John responded as he pulled his head out from under the sink cabinet cupping the sugar dish.

He strode over to his wife who was leaning against the range and studied the list intently, "Mary, I know you heard what went on in the kitchen as we were clearing away dinner." She nodded solemnly, she and her new found trusty ally had plenty to say about Sherlock's expressions before the men joined later.

"I think he is just completely disoriented and basically trying to find some sort of stability amidst this chaos. Like formulating this list and bringing out the white cane." He gave a mirthless laugh, " It was rather comical of him to pull it out of the sofa, but I wish he didn't hid it away. I haven't seen it in his hand since the night we went to the park.**"

"Exactly my point, we should do something about it. We have to, I don't think he will do it alone. Do you suppose he means to use it more frequently now?"

John shrugged helplessly, "I would like him to use it every single time he walks out the front door. I tried to encourage it as much as possible without crossing the line, but he doesn't listen to me most of the time."

"Yes, I think that is good. As his best friend, I take that is your right to say such things. By the way, Have you noticed Sherlock never calls it out directly. He never calls it a 'cane', though it is most commonly know as such. 'Stick' or 'Thing' is all he ever uses and it is said with such a repulsive tone, like it was acid burning his mouth."

The unmistakeable screeching of the kettle's boiling water cut of her husband's chance to reply. With a few fluid movements, Mary had four cups prepared to each person's way of taking tea placed on a tray, but made no movement to rejoin the other two just yet.

"No, I didn't. Now that I think about it, you're right. He did call it "mycroft's doing" once or twice, but never "cane". Perhaps he has a strong dislike toward the word given its negative connotation. I do recall very clearly he despised my legitimate use of the cane that one time an uncooperative patient lashed out me at the clinic."

John arranged the tray making room for the teapot and reflected on the experience a moment before continuing, "Walking with the cane certainly didn't help my self-esteem much, nobody wants to look like weakling. It was only a few days I used it, but I sensed an unfriendliness from everyone."

"However, with Sherlock it should be the complete opposite. The cane is not a weakness!" he exclaimed, "It gives him freedom to travel about without having to be led by the hand or shuffle his feet in fear of tripping over something. He must understand the good there is in using the cane. I've told him time and time again, I can't always be at his side."

Mary soothed her husband's animated display of expressions with a hug, "Not too loud dear. Still, you're absolutely right to make such a point. But how are we going to present the information to him? He didn't take kindly to the idea and might not still."

He hugged her back and cocked his head in thought, "Something will come up that will be good for us to tell him. We'll think of something..."

Back in the sitting room, Sherlock and Molly were having their own kind of heartfelt discussion mirroring the one Watson's had in the kitchen.

A few sniffles escaped the man's breath as the only evidence of his dried up tears. Molly knew he did not cry, but tonight was stressful and difficult so it was understandable.

"Thank you Molly." He leant forward to kiss her cheek, Molly returned the gesture with a warm hug.

"You're welcome. It's alright, quite alright. I'm glad we are understanding each other now better."

He smiled. It was a smile that travelled to his eyes, the kind of sincere smile that came from the heart, the kind of smile that healed the pricks in her heart from his mournful sighs.

"I am as well," he held out his hand for the device which no longer offended him, "You promised to help me? Will you?"

"Most certainly. Always."

Sherlock straightened the cane to its full length, then offered his arm as a gentleman would to his trusted friend.

"How about we try a few circles around this area, just to get the feel of it?" Molly offered and followed Sherlock's lead, but didn't talk. She tugged his jacket sleeve slightly whenever he might hit something the cane didn't alert him to.

"This is pointless! Why do I need this thing if you're next to me?" pounding the floor violently with the cane, "The table attacked my shin twice already and tripped over the rug," The cane he wielded lashed out in the direction he though the table was located.

Molly remained silent, she knew his questioned did not need to be answered. It was his sentimental wall breaking down and talking at the same time. She let him rant on he grew tired, then he held the cane in its proper position ready to try again.

"Molly," Sherlock's face had changed entirely when he looked in her direction. Now his eyes were not set hard against everything, rather they had become wide-eyed and determined. "I'm sorry. I know it's not pointless, but I do find it much more tolerable with you holding my arm. With the right companionship I find anything insufferable can be modified to a better state. I must admit though, from our trapesing taround the room has made me a bit dizzy, I am now unsure of where we are facing."

"You're facing us Sherlock," Mary answered as she walked to the threshold to the sitting room. She dipped her head slightly in awknowlegement of succeeding to her half of the plan- John had figured out how he wanted to broach the sensative subject of his best friend using it in public and on cases too. It was the plan Mary and Molly drafted when they overhead the men's discussion that took place on the kitchen floor. Molly returned the gesture and motioned to her success who was standing next to her- cane in hand.

"Well look at you Sherlock! Ready to take on the world with what's in your hand and with that bold expression you've got on. Just try not to destroy anything too badly," John joked as he placed the tea tray on the table, and secretly hoping the subtle message would build confidence in Sherlock's self-esteem.

Molly turned Sherlock in the direction of the sofa and released his arm, "You can do it Sherlock, just remember to scan wide#. The table is on your left and your chair is on the opposing side. Take your time. We're not going anywhere."

Sherlock gripped the cane snugly in his right hand and swung it left, it caught the edge of the rug.

I hate the rug!

He stepped onto the rug and swung right, this time it didn't hit anything so took another confident step. Again Sherlock repeated the process until he felt resistance at about one-third up from the tip.

Ah, so I must be at the table now. Don't panic now. Just keep going.

Moving slightly back, Sherlock scanned again hoping to contact the table at a lower point, but it was the actually higher than before. His three friends watched intently not even daring to breathe for fear of something happening. Little did Sherlock know he was practically standing over the table, but no one said anything. Another wave of panic was close to crashing on the shores, he needed to reach the sofa before it came. Instead of stepping back, the man shuffled his feet sideways and drew the cane out from under table back into the sweeping motion. With each scan he made sure the left side contacted the table whilst the right remained free, he continued this process until the right side finally hit the sofa.

At last! Now where is the armrest?!

Bending over slowly with his free arm stretched out, the long bony fingers felt the soft well worn-out leather hide armrest and trailed up until they found the backing. Sherlock collapsed into the cushion with a sigh of relief.

"I knew you could do it, didn't even hit anything. I'm very proud Sherlock. There, who says you need me? You can do it just fine alone," Molly congratulated him with another hug as John and Mary voice their praise and happiness.

"Perhaps you're right, all of you. I can do it alone just fine if I'm in the flat. I'm sure I'll be so good that I don't even need this "thing", I bet I can waltz around the entire area with some more practise. Well, won't be needing this for now."

Sherlock was just about to shove it in the seat cushion again when John caught his wrist and took the article.

"Actually, it's best if you just leave it out, you know mate, saves you time from fishing it out of the sofa when you need to use it again around the flat and for cases too."

"No John. No." Sherlock's cheery persona disappeared in an instant, "We discussed this already. We go to cases together. Recall it's one of the things on The List. We have our modified solving cases method. You also banned me from running off without your knowledge so that means we'll be working together throughout the entire time we're away from the flat. I won't need it, I have you."

Before John could even react, Sherlock's mobile sounded with a text from Lestrade. The angry man didn't even bother activating the automated voice-over, merely chucked the device at his friend and curled up in a ball with his back toward everyone.

John opened the message and activated the voice-over that read out the DI's request for coming to the Yard tomorrow as new case "might be of some interest to you" and would discuss the details in person. Turns out John's wish was granted right then and there, all night he had wrestled with the idea of how to get Sherlock to take the cane out in public. With just Lestrade and himself in the office that early in the morning, Sherlock might be more willing to do so. One can always hope.

A-N: There may be some delays in updates due to my courses resuming, but I will endeavour not let too much time pass between each one. Thank you to new ones reading, commenting, favourite/follow.

**Chapter 18 "Some Chocolate and Stars Tonight"

# When walking with the cane, users are taught to 'scan' the area in a wide semi-circle sweeping motion or a "tap right then step right method" that start slightly left/right of the person's shoulder and ends slightly right/left of the person's other shoulder- this is to ensure the cane will cover a majority of the area the person may come in contact with. Though the cane works well in most cases, sometimes an object (chair, table...) will remain undetected because the cane might slide under the object instead of striking the contact point (leg of furniture) with the tip- so the seat/tabletop will contact the cane further up from the tip which lessens the distance between the person's foot and object. (Hence Sherlock walking into the table when practising.)