SARAH

The next morning John woke early again but this time instead of the kitchen he went straight to Sherlock's room. In a way he just wanted to be with Sherlock and besides he was sure Sherlock would deny more food after his consumption levels shot up yesterday. It was 04.30 so he opened the door and went in, sitting next to Sherlock who was resting against the back of the bed. John lifted the sheet over himself and shuffled closer to Sherlock to see if he could warm him up a little.

Sherlock felt the bed bounce as he did and smiled just a little, he was happy that John was here it always seemed a little better with him there.

'What are you doing?' Sherlock asked as his eyes flicked to John's screen.

John smiled, that was the first question Sherlock had asked him in a while now, curiosity was a good sign.

'Researching'

'Depression?'

'Yes, I threw out my college textbooks so Googling is just going to have to do.'

John didn't feel the need to lie. He was a fully qualified doctor but his knowledge of psychological illnesses was relatively small.

The first page he read was on the NHS website but the article was fairly brief and focussed mainly on mild depression, more commonly found than moderate or severe depression. He surfed a little longer but he knew that the rules didn't really apply to Sherlock. He shut the laptop and sighed, he turned to face him but saw that he was already watching him.

'Sherlock'

'Yes John?'

'I-I want to understand, do you- can you explain?' His voice cracked a little.

'..I don't know'

Sherlock's voice wavered and his level of insecurity unsettled John.

'It's hard' he finally said.

'I know, but anything could help'

Sherlock looked at John and could see that all he wanted was help him and get him out of this. Sherlock didn't think he'd ever truly be rid of the depression but it was comforting to know that John wanted to try and help him; he didn't have to do this on his own.

'It feels like... there's an emptiness and it needs to be satisfied, to be filled, but I can't do it. All there ever was to be happy about myself has just dissipated away from me, my interests, hobbies, communication. It's like not being able to escape a never-ending boredom because I don't have the capability to stop-'

Sherlock choked on his words and John saw the desperation in his eyes, this was hurting him so much, all of his layers were stripped back and his inhibitions were in a crumpled heap on the floor. John could see the tears sliding thick and fast down his cheeks.

'Do you want me to go'

Sherlock didn't reply but he moved closer to John and weakly grasped for his hand. John held Sherlock's hand tightly in his. It was normally Sherlock supporting John but now their roles had reversed.

Later that day, John left Sherlock who had fallen into a light sleep to go to the surgery. He knew his plan wasn't particularly legal but at least Sarah understood that John would only ever want to help Sherlock. He had a hunch she'd be at work today and so he made his way there in a taxi.

When he arrived he saw Sarah speaking to a seven-month pregnant woman over the desk and there was a large queue of people behind them. John walked over and stood behind a woman in her fourties and waited for the queue to reduce until after about twenty minutes later, he reached the front.

'John! How are you!'

She came round the desk and threw her hands around his shoulders. He relaxed into the hug, Sarah was a good friend and he was sad that he hadn't kept in touch with her.

'Hi Sarah! I'm well- not great, Sherlock.. he..'

Sarah pulled back to look at him. She could see that something was up.

'What's wrong, John?'

'It's Sherlock.'

'What's happened?'

'He's err.. he's got depression'

John's voice shook and his eyes burned.

'John.. I'm so sorry, that must be so hard.'

She took him in her arms again.

'Look, I'll get someone else on the desk. We can go into my office'

She went back round the desk and quickly dialled a number into the white phone. She had a short conversation and two minutes later, a woman in a nurse uniform walked up the corridor, had a quick conversation with Sarah and then sat behind the desk.

Sarah led john through a small door to the side into a room with cream walls, a small desk adorned with a cactus and two chairs.

John sat down and looked into his lap, he didn't want to break down, he needed to stay strong and just try to do this for Sherlock's sake. This was for him after all.

'When did he confide in you?'

John sighed and started telling Sarah about how he knew something had been wrong for a while but Sherlock had kept it well hidden from him but that John had started to look closer at Sherlock's symptoms. He said how he thought he'd subconsciously known for a long time before but he'd never wanted to confirm it in his own mind. He told her how eventually Sherlock's defences had crumbled and he finally confessed to him that he had severe depression. How ill he really was.

Sarah listened patiently and when he finished she put her hand on his shoulder and held it there sympathetically. John's head hung low and he sniffled.

'I'm so sorry, for you and Sherlock. I know how much he means to you.'

John looked up at that but she carried on smiling sadly at him.

'But, why did you come here John? I know that you would only come if it would help Sherlock in some way.'

He looked at her and sighed.

'Sarah. I know this is a big ask but… would you be able to give me a prescription for Sherlock?'

'…John'

'Look, I know it's breaking the rules –well the law but.. please. I know he would never come here himself.'

'Look.. I would but I-'

'Please Sarah- please'

Suddenly the tears started pouring down his cheeks and his whole body was shaking.

'Sarah you don't know- I've never seen him like this. It's killing him.'

She sighed.

'John please'

He was shocked to see that there was also a tear sliding down her cheek.

'I know what depression does to people, I've seen it cripple people and I've seen them give up all hope but, I've also seen them get better and begin to thrive despite their illness and eventually overcome it all together. I've seen people do that with anti-depressants but I've also seen people do it without them. I'm sorry but I think you already know I can't give them to you.'

John pushed his hand through his hair and tried to blink away the tears. He glanced up and felt Sarah's sympathetic gaze pursuing his eyes but what good would that do? WHAT FUCKING GOOD WOULD THAT DO? Anger poured into his bones until he could feel the blood pumping ferociously through his veins. His hands shook and his eyes avoided hers.

'You won't give me the prescription?' He questioned for the last time.

'I can't'

'Fine! I'll just go home and wait for Sherlock to die, thanks Sarah! THANKS A FUCKING LOT!'

Sad tears ran down Sarah's face but she didn't turn away. Instead she looked at him with an unsettling finality.

'I'm so sorry Joh-'

He violently pulled on the door and as it swung it hit the wall and the handle sunk into the wall, splitting the plaster with a loud bang. He was faintly aware of Sarah calling after him and of the people in the queue throwing him suspicious glances, but the blood was pumping in his ears, deafeningly loud as he pushed his way out of the clinic and outside into the weather which had taken a turn for the worse. The tears stung as they continued to stream down his cheeks.

He quickly hailed a taxi and slammed the door behind him.

'221B Baker Street' he said and felt his voice wobble on the last word.

The taxi driver turned around.

'Err... Are you alright mate'

'Look, would you just drive please!'

The taxi sped off through London and John cursed out loud at every red light that separated him from Sherlock.