He looks at the occupier of the bed in the room. Those dark blue eyes look at him. Snapping the book close, Watson stands up and stands in the middle of the room.

"Sherlock?"

He feels sheepish. He is embarrassed to go here and ask for help. But he knows Watson will help him. Watson always helps. He stands by the door, gripping the door knob hard so he won't fall.

"Sherlock? What's wrong?"

He gives in, and he can feel his legs betraying him.

"I... I need your help, please," He releases the doorknob and down he falls.

Watson kneels in front of him. "God, what happened, Sherlock?"

"I..."

He stays on his bed, thinking about the severity of Sherlock's pain and misery. Has he been blind all this time?

He wonders why Sherlock went to his house. Of all places.

He calls Mary. She answers on the first ring.

"Hey," she whispers.

"Hey," he says back.

"John, what's wrong?" she asks. Bless her.

"Nothing. It's just..."

"You can tell me what you want to tell me, John..."

"It's about Sherlock."

"What is it?"

"Well, he suddenly came to my house."

"Really? Why?"

"I don't know. Oh god, Mary. You should've seen him earlier..." his voice cracks.

"Do you want to meet?"

"Yes."

"Okay..."

"I'll be outside your house in ten minutes..." He hangs up and grabs his clothes.

He doesn't want to wake Sherlock and so he leaves quietly. He puts a note on his bed in case someone checks up on him and panics at his absence. He knows it's bad to leave Sherlock in this condition. But he needs to talk to someone to help Sherlock, too.

He tiptoes the way out. But if he was more observant, he would've noticed the empty couch.

"Doctor Watson..." Sherlock doesn't seem to finish the sentence he wants to tell her.

She kneels in front of him, "On the bed." Her usual doctor voice says.

She watches Sherlock limp to her bed and so she helps him. "I apologise to barge in like this..." Sherlock tells her. 'Christ...'

"It's okay, Sherlock... You clearly need the help..." She grabs the medical bag in her and her husband's room - just in case. "So, let me see your wounds."

Sherlock sighs and nods at her. She notices him having a hard time unbuttoning his shirt but she knows that Sherlock doesn't want her help in this. Her patience won't break.

'Oh the poor boy...' She thinks. She finally helps Sherlock when he winces as he removes his shirt.

She gasps at the horrible sight she sees. Scars litter around Sherlock's back. Wounds, bruises, scars. All swollen. None of them needs stitches, thank goodness. But the severity of Sherlock's condition would have had her in tears if she wasn't a doctor. "God..." she manages to say.

"Doctor?"

"Sorry... It's just... Your back, Sherlock. It's..." 'Horrible and just plain wrong and I have no idea why you still don't want me to talk about this...' she bites her lip.

"Please Doctor Watson, don't. I don't want to hear it again." He tells her.

"I know... But you have to stop this... You go to my office almost everyday now. Your conditions getting worse by the day..."

"I'm trying... It's just..."

"I'm telling your brother." She says, firmly.

Sherlock's eyes snap at her. "How did you know I have a brother?"

She sighs, "Sherlock. You're forgetting that your best friend is my son. He talks about you sometimes, you know..." 'Some of the stories I never got to know, not even your name...' She says as she patches up Sherlock's wounds. "I just never knew that his best friend is my regular patient."

"I don't forget that fact," Sherlock's voice is very hoarse. "I've always known he's your son. I knew he'd be as..."

"As...?" She concentrates on healing this poor boy in front of her.

"Never mind," he says. It scares her that Sherlock doesn't even wince when she tries to clean his wounds. Some people would be flinching and wincing right now.

"Why doesn't he know I'm your doctor?"

"I don't want him to know. He'll try to ask you some questions."

"He's concerned about you, you know."

"I know but I don't know why."

"You helped him a lot. I actually thought you told him when you called me Doctor Watson."

"Well, he did manage to think that I did my deductions..."

"Now, now, Sherlock. No deducing..." Sherlock chuckles for a minute and sighs.

"I will tell your brother about this."

"Please no..." She knows it's not her place to tell. But, Sherlock's parents are fucking arseholes.

"Why not?" She finishes cleaning and bandaging the wounds on his back. None would need stirches but almost all of them ALMOST needed stitching.

"I..." he stops himself.

"Sherlock, I am your doctor. You can tell me anything."

"I know, but the continuous talk of honesty is draining my energy," Sherlock tells her.

She's having none of that. "From what I've heard, Sherlock, your parents are horrible people and you do not deserve how they treat you. I don't care if they could take me away from my job by threatening my employers. I don't care if they would kidnap me and force me to shut up. You need to tell your brother or anyone about this. Tell Jo-"

"No." Sherlock tells her, firmly. For a teenager, he can be a bit intimidating.

"He needs to know. You're keeping this humongous secret from him. I'm your doctor, yes, and I shouldn't be snooping your business knowing your parents will snap my neck before I talk..." She feels Sherlock tense. "...but John is my son, too. And you are my son's best friend. Well, it comes as a shock at first but... it will help both of you."

"I can't," Sherlock chokes. "Not John. Not Mrs. Hudson. Not Lestrade. Not Mary. Not Molly. And definitely not Mycroft." She notices how Sherlock says the list of names like a list of strength. Encouragements. Purpose. She is really glad that Sherlock has friends. Unlike when he was younger. John has been good for Sherlock. And Sherlock has been good for John.

The biggest problem is that the boys do not even realise that.

"Where else does it hurt?" She asks in a calm manner.

"Leg."

"Which one?"

"The right," she nods at him and kneels down to inspect Sherlock's leg. She has noticed him limping. She has no idea how John didn't notice. Well, Sherlock is a good actor. She admits she didn't see anything wrong with Sherlock until Sherlock looked at her. Tired eyes with bags underneath them. Pale, sweaty skin.

John may be her son but John is not a doctor. She knows enough that John may have an idea what's going on. Not with Sherlock's parents because that is a top file secret, probably. But at least on how Sherlock is feeling.

She may not have been with her children much but she is still their mother and she knkws when something is up.

Sherlock has been her regular patient. Mr and Mrs Holmes both went to her office one day and asked, no... demanded her to check their son. By the way they talk about their son like Sherlock is just a motherfucking furniture that needs to be glued, she knows these arseholes are arseholes. She saw Mrs Holmes's eyes change which indicated that Mrs. Holmes knows she knows.

The two threatened her children and husband. Even showed her the CCTV surrounding the school. It shut her up and she saw Sherlock. She convinced Sherlock to talk to her... Took a long time but he gave in.

She checks Sherlock's leg. "Oh f..."

He spots Mary sitting on the steps to their house, waiting for him. It warms his heart. "Hey..." Mary stands up when she notices him.

"Hey," he answers back, sitting on the steps and gesturing for her to sit down as well. She does.

"So? What happened?" Mary asks, concerned.

"Sherlock, he..." he chokes on his words.

"Tell me..." Mary whispers.

"It's just... Sherlock has been through a lot... And I've been giving him hell... You should have seen his face after I said..." he trails off.

"Said what?"

"Some horrible things..." he looks at the ground. She wraps her arms around him and rests her head on his left shoulder.

"Are you going to tell me or would you rather not?"

"I don't even remember half of what I said. I only remember how horrible it is from the look on Sherlock's face... The first time he looked hurt... and then he looked wounded... and then he looked absolutely lost. Lost to oblivion. Dead. God, Mary. I am a terrible friend."

"You're not a terrible friend, John. The fact that you are in this state says so. You're merely terrible at reading people. Reading Sherlock. I don't blame you for getting angry at him. I actually still am angry at him. Leaving us all so suddenly. It would make anyone angry when the one you love leaves you... But... We all know how Sherlock can be absolutely egotistical. He would never admit how much he cares for us all. He hides that. And only the few of us are able to see past the barrier he built between him and caring. Sherlock may pretend to not care. But we all know he is the one who cares the most..."

"That's what kills me."

"What does?"

"The fact that I never realised that he cares..."

"He hides it from everyone. Don't be surprised that he hid that from you. He is a good actor."

"Oh and you can see him?" He raises his brow at her.

"I'm not you, John. I can tell when he's fibbing." She smiles proudly.

"How?" He narrows his eyes at her, smiling.

Mary shrugs, "I'm a woman. That's what we do."

He chuckles. He sighs. "What should I do?"

"He's terrified."

"He's not terrified, is he?"

"Right, you know when you're scared of something, you start wishing it sooner just to get it all going? That's what he's doing."

"And what did he do to do it sooner? What is he scared of?"

The two keeps silent.

He hears Mary take an intake of breath and he looks at her. "Mary?" She is looking at a distance and her eyes are sad. He knows that Mary knows. "So? What do you think? You know..."

They sit quietly. 'Oh John... you and Sherlock, seriously...', she thinks. She tries to think what Sherlock fears the most.

It's John. It has to be John.

And what did Sherlock do to John? Push him.

Sherlock pushes John away sooner than possible. Because Sherlock fears John leaving him and he'd probably rather have him push John rather that John leave him. 'Oh my god. Sherlock.'

She has known this, actually. She is clever and she knows that. She knows how to think like Sherlock, considering her... past (hopefully it's still her past.) And the realisation of Sherlock's actions breaks her heart. Sherlock has been close to her and she, him.

Sherlock and his sacrifices will make them all crazy.

"Mary?" She hears John. She doesn't look at him, not yet. She's still thinking about Sherlock. "So? What do you think? You know..."

She finally looks at John. The one she loves. "I don't think it is my place to tell his fears..." she tells John.

John gives her a confused look, "What? Why?"

'Oh god, John. You're so thick. If I wasn't so sad right now, I'd slap you in the face.'

"Because it's not my place to tell," she smiles sympathetically. "I know what you're thinking. After all the things we talk about, why hide this?"

"You're a mind reader..." John comments, smiling. She ignores it first.

"The answer is: Because you have to figure out on your own."

"Why?"

"Because I don't want you to know and realise what is happening from someone else. You have to know and be sure for yourself."

She rests her forehead on his. "It was easier when he was gone..."

"I know... But everyone knows you need each other..."

"You make me sound like I'm gay..." He pokes her nose.

"You might as well be..." she chuckles.

"Enough with the sexual orientation accusations."

"Oh god, John!" she exclaims and John looks at her in alarm. "You're bisexual!"

John gives her a murderous look and she laughs, so does John.

He didn't know how horrible his leg looked until he showed Dr. Watson. "Christ..." He says, looking at his own leg.

It looks like dead meat. It probably is dead meat.

Dr. Watson inhales and he sees her go to Doctor Mode - just like how John does... "There may be a fracture." Dr. Watson feels his leg and he would scream as she touches the bruises and swelling.

"You need to go to the hospital and get a cast," her doctor voice says.

"I won't."

"I'll tell your brother to-"

"Don't. You may tell him about the bruised leg. But don't tell him about my parents. Tell him that... I don't know, some gang caught me or something..."

"Lying to your brother won't solve anything."

"Telling him will make things worse."

"He's your brother. He has the right to know."

"But it is unwise to tell him."

"It wouldn't be."

"Things won't be better. Everything will only get worse if he finds out."

"When he finds out. He will find out about this. You know your brother, Sherlock."

"I know."

"At least tell him when you think the time has come."

"I guess so."

"Good," Dr. Watson smiles at him. "But you really need to get a cast for this. What happened?"

"Stomped on it..." He admits.

Dr. Watson shakes her head in disbelief. "God..."

"It's okay..." he tells her immediately. God knows what would have happened if he stayed and found out what his father wanted with a rake.

"It's not okay, Sherlock. It's never okay. You're pushing everyone you hold dear. Lying at them. Hiding from them..."

"It's better not to tell them. Don't worry. I'll tell them when the time comes..."

Dr. Watson sighs, she probably knows that he won't tell them until they're all dying, "Fine... I'll drive us to the hospital."

She stands up and grabs her keys from the nightstand. "Dr. Watson?"

She turns around and looks at him, "Yes?"

He smiles at her. "Thank you..." He hears himself whisper.

She smiles warmly at him. Actually feeling that she is his mother. "You're welcome, Sherlock. I'll start the car and help you downstairs, okay?"

He nods at her. "Thank you," he says louder.

"I know."

AN: Okay. So... Yes, John's mother and Sherlock know each other. Don't be surprised. If you go back to Chapter 3. It is already hinted there that something is fishy about Sherlock knowing John's mother... Muwahahahahhahahaha...