Chapter 10 - Open Your Eyes

All this feels strange and untrue
And I won't waste a minute without you
My bones ache, my skin feels cold
And I'm getting so tired and so old

The anger swells in my guts
And I won't feel these slices and cuts
I want so much to open your eyes
'Cause I need you to look into mine

Open Your Eyes – Snow Patrol

"I can't help it that you've got out of the wrong side of the bed this morning, but some cooperation would be nice!"

"I said no."

John felt a wave of anger flowing through his body. He had thought that after his panic attack last night Sherlock realized that it was best for him to cooperate, but now everything started from start to finish again. Today would be his first EMDR treatment, but to John's great frustration, Sherlock had taken matters into his own hands and canceled it.

John let out a frustrated growl. Sherlock, I assume you realize as well that this can't continue, right?"

Sherlock huffed dismissively. "I'm very well capable of taking care of my own mental state. I don't feel the need to talk to some know-it-all shrink who will just poke around inside my memories let me do all the cleaning up afterwards."

"Oh, that's a low blow and you know it." John decided to try something else. "Look, I know you are embarrassed about last night…"

Sherlock's head snapped up. "I am not embarrassed!" he snarled.

"What is it, then?" John fired back.

Sherlock glared at him for a long moment, but didn't seem able to find the right answer. Instead, he just let himself fall onto the mattress and continued to stare at the ceiling with an angry frown on his face.

John knew he had to be the bigger person here. He knew Sherlock was traumatized and that he was going through detoxification, making everything even harder for him then it already was. But he just couldn't bring himself to it, not when Sherlock was acting like a five year old. "I'll go talk to Mycroft, then."

"Oh of course, go blab to bloody Mycroft. You two are becoming two peas in a pot," Sherlock spit venomously.

"I'm not going to blab, I need to talk to him about what happened last night."

"Same difference."

John closed his eyes, pinched the bridge of his nose and breathed in a long, deep breath in order to keep control of himself. "I want to help you Sherlock, but you are making it very hard for me to do so," he started in his don't-mess-with-me voice. "You are fighting me every step of the way. I don't know what's going on inside that giant brain of yours, but you need someone to help you cope with it. If you don't want to talk to me, that's fine. But you need to talk to someone. I'm going to reschedule your session. End of discussion."

There was no response. John knew that Sherlock knew this wasn't up for debate and he was glad he didn't try. Sherlock was visibly taken aback by his words and was just blinking at John. After a long moment, he spoke.

"It's not that I don't want to. Talk to you, I mean. I just… can't," his voice sounded defeated.

John sighed and felt his anger eb away. "I know you can't. That's why you need to have this appointment. And why you have to let me talk to Mycroft if I need to. You can't let me figure it all out on my own. We both are on your side, you know."

Sherlock just gave a nod in answer and John managed to give him a small smile. "Listen, I will ask if your session still can continue this afternoon. I'll come back afterwards, I have to go somewhere. Let's pretend this conversation never happened when I get back, yeah?"

Sherlock raised an eyebrow, but decided to let it pass. "Fine," he answered finally.

John had a plan. A tricky one, but it was worth the try. If it would work, it would be the final push that Sherlock needed. John wanted to let him feel safe, he wanted to reinsure that it was going to be okay. But he couldn't do that on his own. He needed help with that.
That was why he now stood on the doorstep house that was far too familiar. It felt strange to be back at 221B Baker Street. It took him a while before he had the courage to take the handle and knock at the door.

After a moment, the sound of footsteps came near and he heard a key scraping the lock. The door opened and Mrs. Hudson looked at John with big eyes.

"Hello Mrs. Hudson," John said shyly.

She then squeaked in enthusiasm and pulled him in a tight hug. "Oh John! It's so good to see you, it has been ages! What are you doing here? Come in, come in!"

John entered the familiar hallway and gave a sideways glance. Something unsettling grew inside of his stomach. He sighed and lingered behind Mrs. Hudson. If he had known then what he knew now, he would not have given up his lease. He wouldn't have left. He would have stayed, waiting for him. The regret he felt was almost overwhelming.

"Come on dear, let me make you some tea," Mrs. Hudson said and gave him a knowing smile. John returned her smile. God, he loved that woman.

He followed her into her own apartment and set down at the kitchen table. He watched her make tea and suddenly found it hard to break the news to her. She had been there for him when Sherlock went away. She came by every other day to check up on him and had been a tremendous help with little Rosie the first few months. Even though she missed Sherlock incredibly, she had stayed strong for John and kept her hopes up for him. She had not blamed him when he finally told her he was going to leave London. She understood. But John knew it was hard for her to see another of "her boys" leave.

Mrs Hudson put two cups of steaming hot tea on the table, together with some of het self-made scones. John couldn't help it but smile. "He'd love those," he mumbled. His head shot up immediately and was afraid he had said too much already.

But Mrs. Hudson just reached out to his arm and patted it gently. "I know dear." Her voice was soft and full of love. "How are you holding up? You look better, a little tired maybe. Is Rosie keeping you up, dear?"

Oh no. John realized that he hadn't told Mrs. Hudson about his divorce with Mary. How could he possibly tell her everything that had happened without hurting her? He let out a sigh and braced himself a little, his face serious. "Mrs. Hudson, I need to tell you some but you need to promise me to let me finish, okay?"

Mrs. Hudson nodded and sat up a little straighter. John took his cup of tea with both hands looked down at it for a moment, trying to find the right words. "Mary and I got a divorce a couple of months ago. I was a mess, couldn't deal with everything that was going on. So we decided it was best for the both of us to go separate ways. Rosie is staying with Mary." John paused for a moment, looked up at her and saw the shock on her face. After a moment, the shock turned into compassion for him.

"So Rosie isn't the one who kept me awake the last couple of days," John continued. "Mycroft came to see me last week. At first I thought they had found his body, that everything would finally be over. But that was not the case." John swallowed and looked back at his cup, his hands trembling slightly. He took a breath. "Sherlock is back. He is in a private hospital here in London."

Mrs. Hudson let out a squeal and John looked up in surprise. "Oh I knew it! I knew it from the moment I saw you standing on my doorstep!"

John felt a rush of relief going through his body. Of course she knew. Mrs. Hudson knew everything. He chuckled a little and couldn't suppress a smile, but his face fell into the previous serious look almost immediately. "He's hurt, traumatized and afraid. I'm trying to help him as much as I can, Mycroft is too. But I think I could use your help."

"Of course, dear. Whatever you need."

"Thank you, Mrs. Hudson."

Her face looked puzzled for a moment. "Will you come back to Baker street when Sherlock's feeling better?"

John raised his eyebrows. He had not expected this question. Of course they wouldn't return to Baker Street. It wasn't theirs to come back to anymore. "I don't think so. I don't want you to have to kick someone out because of us."

"nonsense dear, of course I couldn't rent it to someone else. It's your home, you two belong here. Besides, your name is still on the lease."

John just looked at Mrs. Hudson in astonishment. What on earth was she talking about? And then, he remembered. The note. Sherlock had put his name on the lease too. A small shiver ran through his spine. The thought of him being back with Sherlock at their beloved apartment was just too much. It was something he could only hope for. And then again, he realized that it would probably be a bad idea. There were just too many memories behind those doors.

John cleared his throat. "I… I don't know. I haven't thought about what will happen when Sherlock gets out of the hospital, to be honest."

Mrs. Hudson patted him on his arm again. "Don't worry dear, you'll two have enough time to figure things out. Now, how can I help?"

"Are you positive that this is a good idea?" Mycroft asked John.

John didn't answer the man. They stood outside of Sherlock's room and were waiting. John didn't know it would be a good idea. But it had to be. He had made sure Sherlock was feeling okay, that he wasn't feeling too unstable of worn out from his EMDR treatment earlier this afternoon. Sherlock had waved away every form of concern and had given John an honest answer about how he felt about the treatment. This had reassured John to go through with this.

Lestrade was the first to arrive. He greeted John with a friendly embrace and gave Mycroft a short handshake. Mrs. Hudson soon followed, pulling John into a tight hug and ignored Mycroft completely.

John let them have a glance into Sherlock's room and gave him a moment to accommodate. Lestrade just stood there and said nothing, his face tight and serious. John knew it was hard for him to see one of his friends like this, especially after what they had been trough together. Lestrade knew Sherlock long before John did and although John didn't know the details, he knew Lestrade had always been there for him.
John had expected Mrs. Hudson to burst out in tears by the mere sight of Sherlock being back in living form and was ready to comfort her, but she didn't. Instead, there only was fondness in her eyes.

John decided it was time and entered Sherlock's room. This was all according to a plan which he and Mycroft had discussed earlier.

"Back already?" Sherlock asked without looking up from his phone.

"Yeah," John just answered. He walked towards the bed. "How are you feeling?"

Sherlock eyed him. "How many times are you going to ask me that same question tonight, John?"

John gave him a small smile. "Just checking." He looked down for a moment, trying to find the right words to announce the two visitors. "Do you trust me?"

"Always. Why?"

"Well," john started, suddenly feeling a little unsure about this whole plan. "There are two people who'd like to see you, if you are up for it."

Sherlock didn't respond. He just gave John a questioning look. John glanced at the window and nodded slightly.

A few seconds later, Lestrade and Mrs. Hudson walked slowly into Sherlock's room. Sherlock's eyes grew big. John saw this, placed his hand on Sherlock's shoulder and gave it a reassuring squeeze. "It's okay," he said softly.

Lestrade was the first to speak. "Hey Sherlock."

"Hey," Sherlock managed to say. His voice sounded rough.

Mrs. Hudson didn't speak. She walked closer to Sherlock and took his hand, as if she was checking if he was real. She furrowed her eyebrows and looked at him with a serious expression. "It's so good to see you, dear," she finally spoke. Her voice sounded nothing but kind and John could see Sherlock's fear melt away.

John looked up to the doorway and saw Mycroft standing in it. He gave John a small nod and John knew it was time to go.

"I'll be outside the room if you need me," he said to Sherlock and gave him one last smile before leaving the room, feeling relieved.

When John entered the room an hour later, Sherlock laid on his bed looking at the ceiling. John didn't know what to expect. It had gone rather well. Mrs. Hudson had been sweet and reassuring and Lestrade was able to peak Sherlock's interest with some cases he told him about. But now that they were gone, Sherlock became silent.

"Hey," John said quietly in hope to wake Sherlock from his train of thoughts. "Are you okay?"

"Yes," Sherlock answered, not meeting John's gaze. John sat down and waited for Sherlock to start talking. He watched him open his mouth to say something, and then he closed it again.

"Thank you," Sherlock spoke after a moment. John didn't answer. He looked at Sherlock and saw him struggle. he gave him a moment to find the right words. There was another long silence.

"You know, when I left," Sherlock started, still not looking at John. "I didn't think I would be able to see you again. I thought it was our final goodbye. I knew I had to try, though. That's why I managed to stay alive for so long. And then, something snapped. I didn't see the light at the end of the tunnel anymore." He took a deep, shaky breath. "I gave up."

John couldn't bring himself to speak. This was the first time Sherlock let his guard down and spoke of what happened to him. He looked at Sherlock and was sure he saw the shimmer of tears in his eyes. He reached out for Sherlock's hand and took it in his. Sherlock closed his fingers around John's.

"But you don't give up on me." It wasn't a question, more of a statement.

"No, I'm not."

"Why?"

John didn't speak for a long time. A rush of realization hit him. He knew the answer. Of course he knew. Because I love you, is what he wanted to say, what laid on the tip of his tongue.

But he couldn't say it, not yet. "Because you're important," he answered instead.

"I'm done giving up." Sherlock said, sounding determined all of a sudden. "I want to fight this. I just don't know how, and it's driving me insane."

"I know."

Sherlock met John's eyes and held his gaze for a long time. For a moment, the world stood still and John almost wanted to ask about the note, about the unspoken things Sherlock wrote about. But he knew now was not the time, nor the place.

"You are getting there," John finally said, gave him a small, crooked smile.

Sherlock returned John's smile. "I think i am."