Sherlock story
Deleted Memories, Chapter 107
Warning: post Reichenbach spoilers. Hope you enjoy
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"I have sometimes been wildly, despairingly, acutely miserable, but through it all I still know quite certainly
that just to be alive is a grand thing." ~Agatha Christie
Present Day
John stared at the ceiling for a few minutes. At eleven in the morning, it was very late for him to be just waking up. He excused himself, he did not get a lot of sleep last night, or early in the morning for that matter.
They both did not get much sleep.
He was in Sherlock's bedroom. He looked over to the empty side of the bed where Sherlock had been hours earlier.
Sherlock had apparently already gotten up, dress and left the bedroom. John also wanted to shower and get dressed.
John sighed heavily; they would need to talk when Sherlock was ready. He would not allow Sherlock to lock his emotions away.
He would not allow Sherlock to pretend that last night never happened.
Nine Hours Earlier that Morning
John had had his own set of nightmare.
John dreamt that he was again in the last warehouse where he found Sherlock's coat. In the corner of the room, he found a naked Sherlock beaten and torture. When he ran to him, his feet were stuck to the cement floor. It was as if someone had glued it there.
He watched the two soldiers came into the room ignoring him; it was as if they could not see him. However, Sherlock could.
John was forced to watch helplessly as they tortured, abused, and did worse things to Sherlock.
Dream John was helpless and unable to help.
Sherlock stretched out one hand to John pleading for help. Sherlock tried not to scream but instead only called John's name with desperateness. Dream John struggled but was unable to get free. In the end, in his dream Sherlock started to scream, cry, while pleading with John to please help. John started crying while still struggling in his dream.
The dream ended abruptly when he woke violently from the dream world by sitting straight up in bed.
John's heart was pounding. He was surprised to find that there really were tears in his eyes. He was also surprised to hear Sherlock really crying out.
Sherlock was having nightmares again.
He made his way into Sherlock's room. Sherlock was muttering in a panic-stricken voice. He was so twisted in his sheets that they restrained his arms. He looked like a mummy. In any other circumstances, John would have found it amusing. But, a look at Sherlock's face punctuated the fact that it was not humorous.
John knew from personal experience to wake Sherlock careful. Even sleepy Sherlock had a decent punch.
"Sherlock wake…" John was careful to stand at his head and not next to his arms.
Sherlock moaned and started struggling more.
John always preferred to wake Sherlock gently but it now seemed more important to end his misery.
"Sherlock, Sherlock…." John firmly shook his shoulders.
"John!" Sherlock awakened with a startled gasp. He blinked back the last fog of the nightmare while he started to shake.
Sherlock was shaking and his eyes traveled in a jagged rhythm around the room while he tried to slow his breathing. Sherlock was still struggling against the sheets however. John took the opportunity while Sherlock was calming himself to get his attention.
"Sherlock," John waited until Sherlock was looking at him and showed recognition.
"John?" Sherlock looked at him now and stopped struggling against the sheets completely.
"Sherlock I'm going to touch you so that I can untangle the sheets, is that ok?"
Sherlock only swallowed hard but said nothing. He seemed to be still trying to process what was occurring.
John frowned.
Ever since his mind palace was repaired, he always recovered quickly the few times that he had a nightmare or flashback.
Whatever Sherlock was dreaming about must have been extremely unpleasant, John concluded. He swallowed hard as the images of his own nightmare were flesh on his mind.
"Sherlock I need you to answer me, is it okay to touch you so that I can untangle you from your sheets?" John tried to use a firm but reassuring voice.
"Yes," Sherlock whispered barely audible.
John nodded and proceeded to untangle Sherlock. John spoke softly about nothing in particular as he untangled the sheets. He had learned the sound of his voice calmed Sherlock during these episodes. He could feel Sherlock's tense muscles start to relax as he spoke.
When he was almost finished, he came to Sherlock's back. His tee shirt has ridden up exposing his back amongst the last of the tangled sheets.
John considered that most all of the cuts and scrapes and contusions were fully healed without scaring or discoloration of his skin. There were only three scars remaining. One was on the right side of his chest, a tiny one from surgery to repair the knife wound and the one John was looking at on his back.
The rest were healed without scarring. It was too early to tell about the bullet wound.
Sherlock was fortunate that despite his fair complexion, he rarely scared. John did notice new bruises on his back shoulder, chest and one side of his face. All of his former bruises were completely gone except for the faintest traces around his wrist, jaw line, rib area, and abdomen close to the surgical scar.
They were to John a vivid reminder of how much Sherlock had gone through lately.
"All done," John, said as a matter of fact.
Sherlock sat up and fixed his twisted tee shirt. He looked at John, "Um… John…"
"You're welcome," John knew Sherlock was grateful. "Do you think that you can get back to sleep?"
Sherlock said nothing but looked at John and swallowed again.
John nodded at Sherlock before saying, "Alright then," and walking quickly from the room.
Sherlock started to shake again slightly when John exited quickly. He was confused at John's sudden retreat.
He could not identify why.
He stared straight ahead sitting in bed and looked at the wall opposite his bed. Sherlock swallowed again, He could not seem to get rid of the lump in his throat. He briefly thought about going to the kitchen to get water but the walk seemed too far, and his body too tired.
John walked back in juggling a book and two cups of water. He walked up to Sherlock and gave him one cup. Sherlock looked gratefully at John and finished the cup quickly.
Still slightly dehydrated, John thought to himself. Sherlock looked up at John almost as if he was awaiting further instruction. John also noticed that his eyes were a little sunken and glassy; he was shaking slightly and seemed unfocused.
John frowned as he wondered if Sherlock had mild shock now that the immediate crisis was over.
Sherlock was a force to be reckoned with during crises. However, since the abduction, John had noticed a change.
He noticed that Sherlock did what was necessary during a crisis. After the crisis passed however, Sherlock's body was susceptible to crashing and his mind retreating.
The fact that he had not kicked him out of his room by now, slamming the door behind with claims of him being too mothering was in itself, telling.
John knew what to do to comfort Sherlock. In the end, John knew he would give Sherlock whatever he needed even though he knew Sherlock was not yet aware of what that was.
John made up his mind.