John was scared like the other prisoners, but there was something else. He felt sorry for Sherlock. Something that other people failed to notice was the look of pain on Sherlock's wolf face. Those eyes showed that the person inside was trapped inside that monstrous body, and even though their beast form may not think it, they wanted to get out.
John didn't get any sleep that night form the growling and scratching and whimpering that came from the adjacent cell. There was also the factor that some of the other prisoners thought it would be entertaining if they shouted insults to Sherlock in his wolf form. John wished they'd just shut their mouths, for everyone's sake.
John kept nodding off, about to fall into the realm of dreams, but was always jolted back to reality at the slightest noise. The next time this happened, he looked into Sherlock's cell to see the man himself sprawled across the floor. His body was tattered, scratches all over him. His chest was rising and falling slightly. John looked into the hall. There was only one guard patrolling now. John crawled to the edge of his cell.
"Sherlock,"
Sherlock's head turned, his dark curls falling in front of his eyes. He stared into John.
"Are you okay?" John asked.
"No." Sherlock replied shortly, but he sat up and faced John.
"So that's why they keep you locked up?" John said sadly.
Sherlock nodded. "I have no control when I have transformed. My only instinct is to rip and maul flesh."
"I saw you though," John murmured.
"What?"
"I could still see you. Your eyes; I saw… the pain."
Sherlock stared at John in amazement.
"What?" John questioned.
"You… you're still talking to me."
"Yeah, I am."
"You're not… scared? You don't hate me?"
"Of course not! I don't hate you at all. I know it's out of your control. I know you're not really like that, Sherlock."
Sherlock's eyes filled with tears. "I want it to stop. I can't do this anymore; I can't be like this."
John's heart wrenched at the sight in front of him. He couldn't even imagine what it must be like. "Is there a way? Any way to… to stop it?"
"I have heard there is. But I do not know how. That is why my escape is pointless."
"What if I went with you?" John suggested.
"What do you mean?"
"I could help you find out how to cure yourself."
"But where do we look?"
"Well, I don't know about you, but when I think of something complicated and don't know how to do it, my thoughts go straight to the College of Winterhold."
"The mages' college…" Sherlock pondered.
"They're wise, aren't they? They know heaps of stuff, and they've got a library full of arcane books. We can escape from here, travel to the College, find out how to cure you, then do whatever needs to be done. You'll be a new man! In a sense anyway; you'll still be Sherlock."
"We'll need to plan our escape. I know how to get out, but there's always a guard patrolling the area. But first, we must wait until my current cycle is over. It must be safe for you to travel with me."