Sherlock story
Deleted Memories, Chapter 113
Warning: post Reichenbach spoilers. Hope you enjoy
*As always thanks for reading, a special thanks to all of you who take the time to review, comment, and favorite.
"Joy and grief were mingled in the cup; but there were no bitter tears: for even grief itself arose so softened,
and clothed in such sweet and tender recollections, that it became a solemn pleasure, and lost all character of
pain."~ Charles Dickens
Present Day
Sherlock heard John come in the door. John walked over to the table where Mrs. Hudson had put some food on.
"She left, I wanted a minute alone," Sherlock answered before John had a chance to ask.
John was a little uncomfortable, "Look, Sherlock…"
"I know," Sherlock said simply while attempting a smile at John. "How is he?" Sherlock asked.
"Asking me the same exact thing about you. You two seem to use me to gauge each other's emotional state." John gasped loudly. Sherlock frowned as he looked at him.
"Sorry did I say the bad E word, emotions?" John walked over and sat next to Sherlock. "Sorry I forgot the teacakes."
"Not hungry, of course I ate something to appease Mrs. Hudson."
"Tea?" Sherlock eyes traveled to the cup that John did not notice. Again, it was hot.
"Sherlock, I may get the wrong impression, what's next, housework, no body parts in the refrigerator?"
"That's never going to happen, John, so enjoy the tea." Sherlock had the faintest hint of a real smile now.
Sherlock's smile left, "John, last night… "
"You're welcome," John smiled.
"Ready?" At the look on Sherlock's face John added, "It gets easier each time."
Sherlock was quiet for a few moments, John waited patiently.
Finally, Sherlock looked at John, sighed, then began.
Sherlock spoke about his nightmare about being abducted, about fearing coming under Ayyad's control and not being able to withstand the torture.
He spoke of his greatest fear, of them breaking his mind.
He spoke of memories and fears that had come to the forefront again.
Sherlock hesitated briefly, then he spoke of being in the warehouse after he was taken and looking at the dead soldier that tried to grab him but fell instead several yards to his death.
"I looked at his face for a moment John, just a brief moment, I wondered how my face would look if that was me dead on the ground." Sherlock looked into John's eyes, searching for judgment, but found none.
Sherlock was relieved.
"John, I let go of the rail, I fell on a rubbish bin, and it broke my fall…, mostly." Sherlock smirked.
John had to ask, "Sherlock, did you know that the bin was under you?"
John looked into Sherlock's eyes waiting for an answer.
Sherlock met John's gaze, "Yes, John. It was just a fleeting thought, you said to be honest."
"Yes, I did. Thank you Sherlock."
Sherlock spoke for an hour. He spoke honestly, like he did the time after he woke from being trapped in his mind palace. He did not hold back.
Sherlock finally paused and asked John an unexpected question.
"What was your nightmare about John?"
John was not sure what to say. He didn't want to hurt Sherlock by telling him about a dream in which he was tortured.
He looked at Sherlock frowning.
"John you claim that I bottle things up all the time. Are you not doing the same. I want to hear, John." Sherlock waited patiently.
John took a deep breath, closed his eyes then opened them. He then spoke holding nothing back including his fears, feelings, and tears.
When he finished, Sherlock was quiet for a moment. He then said, "Thank you John."
Sherlock took a deep breath and spoke again.
Sherlock spoke for another hour. He took breaks to gather his thoughts and John realized, also to get his emotions under control. John pretended not to notice. Sherlock pretended not to notice him pretending not to notice.
Afterward, both sat quietly in their chair recovering from the experience.
After two more hours, Lestrade brought over some old and new cases.
Sherlock's face brightened as he comfortably fell back into his normal pattern. He solved two of the new cases quickly within less than two hours.
He continued to work on the rest, for the remainder of the evening.
Sherlock had five possibilities for one of the cases and told Lestrade that he needed to see the original crime scene.
Both John and Lestrade simultaneously yelled at Sherlock.
Sherlock simply smiled and replied that they both needed to, "… obtain a sense of humor…"
Later that night, Sherlock fell asleep on the sofa. Lestrade prepared to leave and go with a total of four cases solved.
John walked him to the door.
Lestrade looked back at Sherlock. "I'm not use to seeing him fall asleep like that. I'm glad though, he needs it."
"He's pretty battered, not just on his face, I had to re-wrap his ribs yesterday. His body's bruised, he still dehydrated, not to mention the bullet woun…graze." John looked at Sherlock before continuing.
"Personally I am not sure how he was even upright today. If that was me, I wouldn't have left the bed for three days."
"It would've been five days for me," Lestrade smiled as he looked at Sherlock.
"Thanks, he needed the distraction." John smiled at Lestrade.
"I kinda thought he'd be a bit nutty by now, don't get me wrong, I'm happy about the cases. An added benefit I would say."
"I know you'll take care of him…," Lestrade smiled, "… despite himself."
Lestrade nodded and left.
John thought for a moment and then retrieved a blanket and covered Sherlock.
He walked to his bedroom and returned with a book and a blanket. John pushed Sherlock's chair close so that he could put his feet up. He then sat in his chair. John meant to read for at least an hour but was asleep himself within twenty minutes.
Neither woke that night. The nightmares stayed away from them both.
Outside, two blocks away. A soldier in a car noticed the DI Lestrade leave. The soldier called in a report then he drank his coffee.
He watched.
He waited.
A/N: Let me know what you think. Love to all, Zacha