Chapter 12: Strong Enough

Baby when you're strong enough, strong enough
Show me where the lights are off, lights are off
Tell me how you feel inside, can't you let go now
Baby when you're strong enough, strong enough

Strong Enough – Celine Cairo

"We need to talk."

Mycroft looked up from his computer and furrowed his eyebrows at the sight of John Watson standing in the door opening. A quick glance told him that the doctor was angry, furious even. Normally, Mycroft would make a dismissive comment and send the person opposite him away instantly, but in the last few weeks, he had grown a new kind of respect for the doctor. The man seemed the only one who could help Sherlock get on the right track again and for that, Mycroft was immensely grateful to him. So the least he could offer in return was him treating the doctor as an equal.

Mycroft pointed to the chair opposite the desk. "Please, sit down."

John didn't. He closed the door and entered the room but remained standing. He had his fists clenched together tightly and was trying to keep his anger in control. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I think you need to be more specific Dr. Watson, as I have no idea what you are referring to."

"You know what happened to Sherlock."

Mycroft looked at John. Of course, he knew. He wished he didn't, though. The horrors his younger brother went through gave even him an unsettling feeling. He wanted to spare the doctor that. Even though Mycroft knew he had seen his own horrors, he really thought it would be best for the doctor not to know.

After a long moment, Mycroft spoke. "Are you sure you want to know?" he asked John. His voice sounded calm, almost sympathetic.

This startled John a bit. "Yes," He said fiercely, but continued right after. "No… I don't know." He let out a frustrated sigh and sat down in the chair.

"May I ask you how you came to the conclusion that I know?"

"He didn't want to be touched by his physical therapist and said you knew about that."

Mycroft nodded knowingly. "When he came back, he got violent when he was touched by the male doctor who wanted to examine him. He didn't want me to touch him either. I don't think me being a man was the main reason, though. But it didn't improve things."

John seemed to realize something and looked up questioningly. "Is that why Sherlock hit you?"

"Yes," Mycroft answered. He swallowed and tried not to show his emotions. Getting beaten up by his younger brother wasn't one of his best memories, although he couldn't blame him for doing so. "That's why I arranged female assistance instead of male. It was his own choice to take on a male physical therapist, though."

John ran his hands across his face. "I wish I'd known. I would've been more careful in approaching him. I wouldn't have invited Greg to come to see him. I would…"

Mycroft cut him off. "Nonsense. The fact that you didn't know and therefore didn't approach him differently made him feel he could trust you again right away, even after not seeing you for two years. You were one of the few people who, in his eyes, hadn't changed."

John stayed silent for a moment. He still couldn't get used to Mycroft letting his guard down sometimes, even if it was only a little bit. It made the anger he felt before ebb away.

"Listen, John," Mycroft started. "I understand why you think you want to know what happened. I could tell you the things I know if you really want to. But I do think you shouldn't hear it from me. Sherlock will tell you when he feels he can. In fact, I think he's already telling you things he wouldn't tell anyone else."

John sighed. "Yeah, you're probably right. I just wish I could help him more. Take some of the pain he's experiencing away to deal with it myself so he doesn't have to. "

Mycroft just nodded in answer. For a long moment, they just sat opposite each other in silence. Mycroft looked at the doctor. The man had done so much for Sherlock and never thought of himself. And even when was doing everything he could, he still wanted to do more for him. He cared for him, cherished him even. It was then that Mycroft realized that the words Sherlock had been referring to in his note as "unspoken", weren't unspoken at all. The doctor had answered them without knowing.

He decided not to mention anything for the moment and changed the subject. "Has my brother decided where he wants to go when he's being released?"

"Yes, Baker Street. I told him I will stay to help. At least for the first couple of weeks."

"Do you need me to take care of anything?" Mycroft offered.

"Honestly, I don't know. I haven't been to the apartment yet. I didn't know it was still my apartment until a couple of days ago." Mycroft couldn't help but notice the small flicker of sarcasm.

"I'll take care of it."

John looked up at Mycroft. "Thank you," he said. It wasn't just because of the apartment. It meant more than that, and both men knew it.

John arrived early at the hospital the next morning. In two days, Sherlock would be able to go home. Now that they had established that he would be coming back to Baker Street, John couldn't help but feel a little excited. It felt like they were finally on the right track to becoming themselves again. To be able to fix what was broken, even though John didn't know exactly what it was that was broken. It felt good to be alone with Sherlock once again, just the two of them. He was aware that there were still going to be so many things to conquer and that it would be a long and hard road to do so. But he knew they were going to survive it, together.
He also knew he wanted to be there with every minor victory Sherlock had. Normally, he would go somewhere when Sherlock had his therapy sessions. The café across the street was the place where he tried to kill the time during the wait, just like he did yesterday. He didn't want to hover in the hospital during the sessions but did want to provide any comfort afterward if Sherlock needed any, so the café was the best place to be.
But today, Sherlock had his last therapy session before he got to go home. Tomorrow he would get his last dosage of pharmaceutical GHB and if everything went well, he would be released the next morning. For some reason, John wanted to see him before the session and make sure he was doing fine, especially after the events that had happened yesterday. He wanted to reassure Sherlock he could do this.

When John arrived at Sherlock's room, he was surprised to see that the therapist was already there. He looked at his watch, but he was sure the appointment wasn't scheduled for half an hour. The therapist was talking with Sherlock, but it didn't seem like they had already started. When she saw Sherlock looking past her to John, she turned around and walked towards him.

"Doctor Watson, could I have a quick word with you?" the therapist asked and walked to the hallway. John shot a questioning look at Sherlock and followed her.

The therapist turned around to close the door and held out her hand. "I don't think I introduced myself properly. My name's Maggie. It's so good to finally meet you, Sherlock told me so much about you during his sessions. You really are his rock, you know?"

John didn't know how to respond to that. He shook her hand in answer. "Please, call me John. Is everything all right? I thought his session was later today."

"Oh don't worry, everything is fine," Maggie said and gave John a small smile. "He wanted me to ask you something before we begin. He knew you would drop by beforehand so he asked me if I could come a little early."

"Of course he did," John muttered. It didn't surprise him that Sherlock already knew he would come by.

Maggie's face grew a bit more serious. "John, Sherlock requested you in today's session. He wants you to know what happened but is afraid to tell you in person. He figured that if you were in this session with him, he could explain some things to you through me."

John blinked and raised his eyebrows. "He wants me to… what?"

"He wants you in the room during the session," Maggie answered calmly.

It took John seconds to realize what the therapist had said. "And you'll allow me in?" he asked in disbelief.

"Under some conditions, yes."

"Which are?"

Maggie looked at John for a moment as If she was trying to remember her own conditions. "You'll just sit in the back of the room," she started. "No questions, no response, no comments. You're only allowed to listen. If it's getting too much for you to hear, get out."

"Did you set those conditions, or did he?"

Maggie chuckled a bit. "You know him well."

John gave her a crooked smile, but it disappeared almost immediately when he realized what Sherlock had asked of him. He wasn't prepared for this. He needed time to think, to figure out how to handle the information. "I suppose I don't get the chance to think about this, do I?"

"I'm afraid not," Maggie answered in earnest. "He'll probably change his mind if you wait too long."

John sighed. "Of course. Leave it to Sherlock to ambush someone with this." He said and ran his hands through his hair. He took a deep breath to prepare himself what was about to come. "All right, I will join. It's not that I can say no to him anyway."

When John and Maggie entered Sherlock's room again, they went to their places right away. Sherlock sat cross-legged on the bed and was fidgeting with the corner of the duvet. He felt nervous. He didn't look at John. He couldn't. If he wanted to do this, he needed to focus.

Maggie sat down as well in the chair opposite Sherlock. It blocked part of the view which was a relief. This way, he couldn't see John's face. He could pretend It was just him and his therapist.

"How are you doing today?" Maggie asked politely. It was probably just a question to break the ice. Sherlock took a breath.

"I'm okay, just a little tensed," he answered in honesty.

Maggie nodded. "That's understandable. Just take another deep breath and know that we can stop at any time."

"I know."

"Would you like to start with the summery-exercise we've been doing the last few sessions? See how far we can get?"

Sherlock looked past her at John, but John didn't look back. A rush of hesitation hit him and suddenly he doubted if this was a good idea. Maybe it was too soon, too quick. What if he couldn't tell him? What if his body decided to pull another trick, just like yesterday? What if it would be too much for him to handle?

"Sherlock, look at me," Maggie said in a friendly but demanding tone. His eyes snapped away from John. "Remember what I told you. Try to act like he's not here. There's nothing is going to happen that you don't want to. You are the one calling the shots today."

Sherlock closed his eyes briefly, took another breath and shifted a little so that John was out of his direct line of sight. It made it easier to talk. "Okay, I'm ready."

"Good. Start from the beginning. You don't have to go into detail. Just tell me what you want to tell me. Take your time."

Maggie's words were the encouragement that Sherlock needed to start this. "I started in Ukraine," he started hesitantly. "I went undercover in a Russian organization which was settled all over Eastern Europe. They were specialized in hacking and were preparing a big attack on some big European countries. If they would pull through it would mean the end of Europe as we know it."

Sherlock paused for a moment and looked down at his hands. He furrowed his eyebrows as if he was trying to remember something. "Everything went quite well for the first couple of weeks. But I noticed that they were discussing things about me. I overheard their suspicions against me. They were trying to track down my background and already knew I wasn't from Russia.
I had to cut off every form of communication with the government before they would intercept my messages. I knew if I didn't, they would harm the people I cared about. That's why I went off the radar completely within the first month." His voice was completely even now. He wanted to explain this because he knew John probably had requested updates from Mycroft about his status. He needed John to know it wasn't a choice to go down on his own, but something he had to do.

"I was able to cause some delay by questioning their plan and suggest different things. They were starting to doubt their own plan, which was beyond my expectations. I even believe blew up the whole thing because of the chaos I caused.
After a couple of months, I managed to gain some trust. That's when they told me hacking wasn't their only "business". They had a… niche. They wanted me to help build it further, expand it to other countries." Sherlock stopped talking. The hardest part was yet to come and he started to feel nervous again.

"What kind of niche?" Maggie asked. She sounded curious and Sherlock couldn't blame her. This was the first time he was going to talk about it. He had to. He wanted John to know.

"Prostitution. Male prostitution, to be exact."

There was a long, thick silence. Sherlock's heart started jamming inside his chest and he felt his hands starting to get sweaty. He could hear John inhale sharply and shift in his seat slightly but other than that, there was no response, for which he was grateful.

"Do you need to stop for a moment?" Maggie asked after a minute, her voice soft and encouraging. Sherlock knew she meant well, but if he stopped now he wouldn't be able to continue. He shook his head in response and reached for the glass of water on his nightstand. He took a sip and noticed his hands were shaking. When had they started to do so?
He took the glass in both of his hands and lowered it into his lap. He closed his eyes and braced himself before he continued.

"That's when they decided to transport me to Mitrovica, Kosovo. I was about six months into my mission. When I arrived, I noticed that I had to deal with a different kind of people right away. They weren't happy with my arrival at all. It made them feel that they were being watched. They started to question me, wanted to know why I was there. I managed to keep up my façade for a couple of weeks. I discovered that most of their clients were rich businessmen from all over the world. People who weren't supposed to be in Kosovo at all.
But before I got the chance to do something with that information, they decided I had to see what the business was like first-hand."

A shiver ran through Sherlock's body by the thought of it. He swallowed hard. "I knew things were going sideways and I didn't know how to stop it. I was infiltrated too deeply and couldn't see an out. So I was forced to do it. There was no other choice." His voice started to quiver. This was as far as he had come, but he knew he had to go further. He fought the urge to look up to John for support, knowing if he did he would break.

Sherlock cleared his throat and tried to get his voice sounding even again. "There were different stages," he started to explain. "First, I was the help. I had to clean the rooms, make sure there was enough equipment. After that, they let me be the host. I had to welcome the clients." He paused. "They'd let me watch sometimes, too," he added softly.

"Oh, shit."

Sherlock's head snapped up in the direction of John. It was soft, but he did hear him. It was too much for him to hear and Sherlock knew it. His body tensed and he tried to control his breathing, but a rush panic ran through his veins. This was going all wrong. He wanted to let John come closer, not to push him away.

"Sherlock, don't back down now," Maggie spoke suddenly. It almost sounded like a whisper. "You are doing great. He's not going anywhere."

Sherlock sucked in a deep breath and let some of the tension go. He knew she was right. John still sat in that chair. He was still listening.

"After two months, they decided I was ready." His voice sounded raw now, not quite his own. "They gave me my own clients. But in those two months, I had formed a plan. Before someone could do something, I was able to deduce my clients' darkest secrets and used it against them so I wouldn't have to have sex with them. Everyone has secrets."

Sherlock's whole body started trembling. "But of course, they found out. That's when it got ugly." His voice broke. "They tried to torture information out of me. I didn't give them any. Then, they decided to try different ways to force me to have sex. That's why they gave me the GHB." He let out a small huff. "It was the first time that being an addict had his perks. I had a high tolerance so I didn't pass out and was still able to stay conscious enough to fight back."

"How did you manage to escape?" Maggie asked with a trembling voice. It was hard to hear for her as well. Sherlock noticed it took her a lot of effort to speak. He knew she was trying to steer the conversation a bit.

He frowned. "I didn't. I wouldn't be able to escape, I was too far gone." But then, a sudden realization hit him. "I think I had a client who recognized me and who contacted the government."

Maggie shifted a little closer. "Sherlock, you did so well. I'm so proud of you for sharing this. You know I have to ask you one last question, right?"

Sherlock couldn't find his voice anymore. He gave a small nod as an answer.

"Did they, at any point, succeeded in trying to force you to have sex with someone else?"

"No," he whispered.

"Are you absolutely sure?"

"Yes."

And suddenly, Sherlock couldn't bring himself to continue anymore. He broke. His body started to shake involuntary, he started to feel dizzy. He tried to take deep breaths but was gulping for air now. He didn't know how to regain control anymore as blind panic struck him.

He didn't hear the soft encouragement from his therapist. He didn't hear the shifting of the seat in the far corner of the room. He didn't hear his footsteps approaching. But when he felt an arm wrapping around him, Sherlock knew it was John. he pressed it against him and hold on tight. Relief rushed over him. John was still there.

After long minutes, Sherlock noticed John's unsteady breathing. For the first time, he looked up at the man, who looked down at him and gave him a glimpse of a smile. Tears were pooling from his dark blue eyes, but he didn't seem to care. John pressed Sherlock closer against his chest.

That's when Sherlock swore he would never let go of John Watson ever again.