When John Watson arrived home, Sherlock was laying on the sofa, with his eyes closed and his hand in his thinking position.
John went to take a shower. He needed to wash everything off him. He carefully washed his nose, cleaning it from the dry blood.
Sherlock was still there when he came back.
John sat down on the couch and started reading the newspaper. He knew he can the message Moriarty had carved in an apple, the message that had haunted Sherlock until the moment he faked his death.
Sherlock lied back on the sofa, and his eyes shut again.
"Sherlock, they're torturing him!"
"I hope they make him suffer." he whispered back.
"Why are you so mad at him? He's not the first person to betray you. Why him?"
"Other people are idiots. You can't expect them to be loyal or clever, because they're not capable of that. Mycroft is like me, he's different. He has no excuse for betraying me. He fully understood the consequences working with Moriarty will have, and yet still decided to help him. I bet he told Moriarty I faked my death."
"But what if he's innocent?"
John waited for an answer that didn't come.