Sherlock, Jayden, and Lestrade walked into the flat after picking up some clothes from 221B.
"Why don't one of you take a shower?" Lestrade said. "You'll sleep better, and I'll dare say it's probably been awhile."
"Me first!" Jayden raced to the bathroom, and with in a few seconds, Sherlock and Lestrade heard the water come on.
"I guess I'll get started on some food then." Lestrade said, an amused smile on his face. He pulled a box of macaroni and cheese from the cabinet, and a few pans. He took some hamburger from the fridge, and began to fry it up.
After awhile Lestrade noticed Sherlock growing quite restless, the speed of his fingers tapping the table quickly increasing. Sherlock had one hand placed on his forehead, elbow on the table. His other hand, the one with tapping fingers, was placed beside his elbow. Sherlock stared down at the table, his eyes scanning the patterns in the wood.
"You alright, Sherlock?" Lestrade asked as he walked over, the concern clear in his eyes. Sherlock's head shot up, and he quickly shifted to what appeared to be a more attentive position, now having both elbows up on the table, his hands in the familiar thinking pose.
It was then Lestrade got a better view of Sherlock's face, which had gone quite pale.
"Fine, why?" It was obvious that Sherlock had meant to snap, but it hadn't worked. There was a slight tremor to his voice, and he sounded more unsure and hesitant than irritated.
"Don't lie to me." Lestrade warned.
"I-" Sherlock closed his eyes, than blinked a few times, seemingly in an attempt to refocus himself. It was then Lestrade had noticed the slight tremble of Sherlock's hands.
Quickly applying the medical knowledge he had, Lestrade came to a conclusion.
"We've got to get food in you quick." Lestrade said, starting to go through his cabinets. "What do you think you can keep down?"
Sherlock stood up, but swayed almost immediately, staggering against the counter.
"Hey, hey, hey, none of that now." Lestrade said, grabbing his arm to steady him.
Sherlock closed his eyes.
"Dizzy." He mumbled.
"Alright, just sit down then? Why don't you go back to the table?" Lestrade suggested, as he half drug Sherlock back over to the table.
"Try to focus. I'm just getting you something to get your sugar up." Lestrade reached up to his counter and grabbed a glass, quickly searching the fridge for something with high glucose content.
"Sherlock, you still with me?" Lestrade said, glancing away from the fridge that he really should clean out eventually.
"I haven't passed out, if that's what you're asking." Sherlock muttered.
"Just a bit longer." With a small grunt of triumph, Lestrade grabbed a half full carton of grape juice. He quickly poured a glass, and set it in front of Sherlock.
Sherlock stared at it disdainfully, before lifting it and taking a small sip. Lestrade sighed impatiently.
"You're going to need more than that."
Sherlock frowned, then took a larger sip, and Lestrade could see his throat constricting as he swallowed.
"All of it, Sherlock."
Slowly, Sherlock drained the cup. Within five minutes, he was looking considerably more like his usual self, as the tremors had stopped and he seemed to be less disoriented. Even though he had improved, the pallor of his face, and the strain of exhaustion resting upon it never left.
"Better?" Lestrade asked, as he continued cooking his hamburger.
Sherlock nodded, albeit hesitantly. And it was this hesitance that cause Lestrade to come to a realization.
"That shook you up a bit didn't it? Your transport betraying you?" Lestrade asked. "You knew you hadn't been taking care of it though, so I don't know why."
"I knew I was pushing it." Sherlock admitted. "But I- I didn't know I'd let it go this far."
"You've got to be careful." Lestrade said.
"I-I'm trying. It's just- there's so much going on, so many things spinning through my mind, and-" Sherlock stopped speaking quite suddenly.
"Sherlock..." Lestrade said, prompting him to finish the sentence.
"And-" Sherlock said, trying to put words to what he was feeling. "It hurts." A sudden look of fear ran over Sherlock's features, which was almost instantly replaced by stony neutrality.
There was a moment of silence, then Lestrade spoke again.
"Why do you do that?" he said.
"Do what?" Sherlock asked.
"Right after you admit to pain, or vulnerability, you always look... scared, for just a split second after that. Then you clam up." Lestrade said. "Why?
Sherlock hesitated in answering, running his finger around the rim of the cup sitting in front of him.
He shrugged almost imperceptibly, shaking his head slightly as he did.
"You never know who's going to turn on you. You never know who's secretly on the other side. If you show your pain, you are practically asking to be hit in the same spot again, as they have already spotted a weakness in that area. The areas that I do not show are the ones that I feel need protected the most." Sherlock said.
Lestrade absorbed that for a few minutes.
"I understand that, but what's with the sociopath thing? Why are you afraid to show that you care about people?"
"We've got a dangerous job, Lestrade. We've both got enemies, people who would love to hurt us. But over the past few years, I've gained more enemies, powerful enemies, than I know what to do with." Sherlock said. "If I let it be known that I care about someone, I am painting a target on the back of their head. It's risky enough to remain in contact with those I care about, let alone be as close to them as I am. I get any closer," Sherlock said, "And they will die."
The conversation had long been dropped, and Lestrade heard the shower turn off.
"He'll be out soon." Lestrade commented. Sherlock just nodded in response, going back into his own mind. He had been staring at the wall long enough that Lestrade knew he had gone into his mind palace.
"What are you doing up there?" Lestrade asked, tapping his head as he glanced over at Sherlock.
"Staring at the light." Sherlock answered honestly. "Wishing to turn it off."
Lestrade did a double take. "It better not be the room I think it is." he said, wiping his hands on the dish towel as he set the food on the table.
"We're speaking of the same room." Sherlock answered.
"You need to get away from it, Sherlock." Lestrade said.
"Not that simple." Sherlock said. "I left the door open a crack like you told me to, the room has a vacuum like quality. I have yet to see how it works."
"Just be careful."
It was at that moment that Jayden entered the room, his hair still dripping wet.
He slid into his seat at the table.
"What are we eating?" He asked, completely oblivious to the serious conversations that had recently taken place.
"Macaroni and cheese. I've fried up some hamburger, you can add it if you'd like." Lestrade said.
"Awesome. I didn't know Brits did that too." Jayden said. "You know what it's called if you add taco seasoning too?"
"Nope." Lestrade answered, spooning some onto his own plate.
"It's called Tex-Mex mac and cheese." Jayden said, his mouth already partially filled.
A/N: So there we get another glimpse at a vulnerable, honest moment for Sherlock, as well as insight into just why he is the way he is. I hope you enjoyed it, and I'd love to hear what you think.
