Author's note: Thanks again for your reviews, that means much to me. I'm sorry that you have to wait for new chapters; the first parts I already had written, but my mind works slowly sometimes until I get the right ideas... however, next chapter, here you go :)
Sherlock: Lost Mind
Chapter 5
Another taxi. We both were silent, both thinking of different things. Or maybe not so different. Moriarty, James Moriarty, the consulting criminal that Sherlock and I met once at this swimming pool. I never forgot this frightening encounter. And now his name in Sherlock's mind, Sherlock's lost mind. It made me shiver.
We were still not on our way home but on our way to another specialist who should make some special tests with Sherlock's brain. As we arrived, I had to wait outside once again, but this time it was the doctor's order and actually, Sherlock gave me a terrified glance before he went into the consulting room.
Finally, my friend got the information that there was nothing physically wrong with his brain... but there were still a few tests which had to be analyzed. Now he just should get some rest and try to remember simple things like names of friends and family.
Back in 221b Baker Street. Sherlock Holmes sat in his armchair, his eyes closed. I saw how exhausted he was, the man who never was exhausted. It made me feel so helpless, so lost... more than ever before I wished that Lestrade would show up with a difficult case, and Sherlock would be just the same as always.
"Hoo-hoo!" Not Lestrade, but Mrs. Hudson. She entered with two filled plates. "I thought you might be hungry", she said and glanced at Sherlock worried. My friend opened his eyes and gave me an unsecure glimpse.
"Thank you, Mrs. Hudson", I answered our landlady. I actually was really hungry by now. We managed it to clean the kitchen table far enough to be able to eat from it.
Sherlock still sat in his chair. "Come on!", I said encouragingly. "You have to eat something, Sherlock."
"Yes...", he answered slowly, and finally he got up and came to the kitchen. He looked around, and suddenly there was some curiosity in his eyes. "Does... the kitchen always look like this?", he asked and pointed at all the chemicals and the microscope.
"Yeah, your stuff. Hungry? Don't try to find something eatable in fridge, there are just body parts!"
Sherlock smiled. "I'm not... a kind of ordinary person, am I?"
"Oh no, you're not, Sherlock!"
He laughed, and I looked at Mrs. Hudson. In her face I saw the same relief I felt.
We sat down and ate. Mrs. Hudson left us alone, and soon Sherlock started to ask questions about our lives. I told him just general things at first, but then I started to describe some of our cases and adventures, hoping that he would remember some random detail... but he didn't. I felt as if I told the stories to a strange person. Sherlock was now a strange person to me - and I was to him. He didn't say anything, not like he did while we were at Dr. Willows, but I saw it, I felt it.
The day passed slowly. Mycroft showed up again and left with an upset, nervous face expression. Sherlock and I had a little walk, and my friend made some of his usual deductions - finally a good sign!
At last, the night came. We were sitting in our armchairs at the fireplace and hadn't said anything for a while.
"Sherlock...", I murmured. It took a while until he reacted.
"John... what is it?"
"It's late, and it has been a... strange, difficult day. I think we both need some sleep."
"Yeah... probably..."
I stood up. "You'll be alright?", I asked.
Slowly, he looked up to me. "Sure... John..."
"Really?"
He bit his lip and ruffled his hair. Then he got up, too, and said nervously: "I'm afraid - I'm afraid of the sleep, I'm afraid of waking up tomorrow - what if I forget this day, too? What if-"
"Stop it!", I interrupted. "Hey, Sherlock, that's not going to happen, okay? You will be alright tomorrow... maybe tomorrow everything's fine..."
"You think so?", my friend asked and gave me an unsecure glance.
"I hope so. And now, Sherlock Holmes, it's bedtime. It - will be - alright!"