Sherlock story
Deleted Memories, Chapter 125
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.
Love to all.
"You must be at the end of your rope. I felt a tug." ~Author Unknown
Present Day, earlier
John sat in his chair and glanced to Sherlock's chair. He read the same page of the newspaper twice. John shook his head. "Don't be a div," John chided himself.
This was the first time Sherlock had gone off on his own without either himself, Lestrade, or Mycroft being beside him since his return from his abduction.
Agent Thomas was following him. If Sherlock knew he did not make a fuss over the fact. Of course Sherlock knew, John admitted to himself, this was Sherlock.
That had been the main reason that John had even agreed. The other reason was that Sherlock's personality could not stand to be smothered for long. Sherlock, for Sherlock, had been incredibly, patient all things considered.
Sherlock had been away for a little over two hours.
Sherlock was more than capable. The truth was, in a fair fight, Sherlock was almost always the one who came out on top.
The problem was that these men did not play fair.
The other issue was that Sherlock was not one hundred percent yet. Although Sherlock had always been a fast healer, and was much better now, he was still stiff and sore. He also still fatigued easily. And, although the nightmares and panic attacks had lessened, they still did occur.
John heard the knob turn and smiled, "Sherlock."
John sighed then stilled as he heard urgent footsteps to the door then a rapid knock.
John's smile disappeared.
He was on his feet in a second. "Come in," John said breathlessly. It was the young officer that had helped Sherlock, what was his name? McMullen, John remembered.
"Doctor Watson, I… need you to… um… come with me now." The kid seemed to be hopping from one foot to another and was unable to keep eye contact for longer than a second at a time.
"What happened?" John heard himself ask. He really did not want to hear the answer.
"Sir, the DI Lestrade sent me to get you, we really need to…" McMullen started.
"What… Happened?" John used his best authoritative voice. "Speak quickly, I need to prepare myself."
John's voice started out strong but ended in a whisper. John felt almost as if he was having an out of body experience. He heard himself speaking but it was almost as if he was hearing someone else's voice.
McMullen stopped fidgeting and his face held a grim but determined expression. He looked at John now with a frown.
"He was kidnapped… tortured… blow to the head, blinded… assaulted, repeatedly. He's pretty bloody. They can't transport him until you get there. He's fighting; he won't let anyone near him. He keeps screaming your name and calling out for you. So, as I said sir, we need to go, now. "
John nodded and felt his legs moving. He scribbled a quick note to Mrs. Hudson, she should have been back by now. He frowned then tore it up and put the pen in his pocket. He needed to know more before he upset her.
They were both running down the stairs a minute later.
John stopped as he opened the door to the outside.
He forgot to take anything. No coat, no gun, no phone. He at least needed the phone.
"Phone," John said numbly.
"I'll get it sir, head to the car." The officer ran taking two stairs at a time.
John nodded gratefully as he stepped down, walked briskly to the car, and opened the back seat door to the car sliding in.
John sat in the back seat. Staring straight ahead but not really seeing.
He vaguely heard a door slam and the pull of gravity on his body as the car quickly turned into traffic. He did not even feel the cold, still his body shook slightly. Maybe, leaving his jacket was a bad idea, but the truth was he could not bring himself to care.
John felt the sweet numbing pull of mild shock.
He resisted.
Although he would have loved nothing better, Sherlock needed him.
John closed his eyes.
Words kept looping through his mind. Bits of conversations with Mycroft, with Sherlock, with the soldier in the warehouse, what the young officer said, and his own fears.
"Kidnapped… tortured… blow to the head, blinded… assaulted, repeatedly"
"John…, technically… Sherlock would be still considered…, alive".
"Sherlock was to be made an example of…"
"John, I've sacrificed everything for my mind, they were close to breaking it. John, what if they broke it?"
"Don't worry; you'll get him back…, eventually…, more or less alive. Alive at least in body, that is."
"Kidnapped…"
"Tortured…"
"…blow to the head…"
"…blinded…"
"…assaulted…"
"…assaulted, repeatedly."
"Repeatedly…, repeatedly…, repeatedly…, repeatedly…"
"Stop it!" John whispered harshly to himself.
John swallowed bile. He evened out his breathing.
"Don't you dare fall apart John Watson," John whispered again.
This was not helpful to Sherlock. John's military training came back to him. With his eyes still closed, he started to think of something more helpful. Point one; Sherlock was alive. Point two; Sherlock was alive. Point three; Sherlock…, Was…, Alive.
They did not know Sherlock, John thought, but he did. Sherlock was a fighter.
John almost smiled at the fact that Sherlock was fighting even now and no one could get close to him, not even to help him.
He almost smiled.
There would be physical and emotional scars but he would recover. John was determined, even if that meant he would have to drag Sherlock all the way through his recovery with Sherlock kicking and screaming in protest.
If the blindness occurred because of a hit to the head particularly in the occipital region in the back of the head, it might not be permanent.
It might not be permanent John repeated in his mind. John tried to give himself hope.
His vision may partially or completely return in time. If it did not then they would just adjust.
As far as the assault, he was… John corrected his thoughts; he is a strong and confident man. Any human would be traumatized. Despite Sherlock's arguments to the contrary, he was human.
Knowing Sherlock, he would pretend that it didn't happen or was irrelevant, he would push it all in and use the logic of his brilliant mind to shield himself against all emotions. He would function well for a little while, then have a nuclear size emotional meltdown.
John knew then and there that he would have to force him to deal with the emotions.
John knew it would hurt.
It would leave a scar.
John was sure that, that had been their intention.
John knew Sherlock; he decided that he would not allow him to retreat to his mind. He would reach him , even if that meant that he would have to go to his mind palace and break down the doors, dragging Sherlock out kicking and screaming.
John swallowed hard.
Screaming, John decided that he did not like the word screaming anymore.
What is another word for screaming John wonder? Ear-piercing sound, high-pitched sound, earsplitting sound, blaring; yes, he would say blaring or blaring sound John decided.
John in the back of his mind knew that his thoughts were getting ridiculous, but allowed it without condemning himself. He knew it was his mind's way of coping.
John did not want to think about Sherlock's beautiful mind being broken. He however decided he had to face the possibility.
If that did happen, had happened, he would not allow Sherlock to be sectioned. He would care for him. Sherlock would recover. If it were a different Sherlock, at least it would be a living one.
John was not surprised that he cared this much for his friend. He had always known. The depth of his care still astonished and moved him. He had never cared this deeply for another soul.
More astounding was the sure knowledge that such an astounding and extraordinary creature as Sherlock would never have given up on him either and have in fact repeatedly risked his life to protect him.
This sure knowledge, although it did not take away any pain, it did settle John.
John wondered how long he had been lost in thought; he knew what he had to do now.
He took a deep breath.
A very determined John Watson quieted his mind.
He opened his eyes.
A/N: Sectioned is commitment to an inpatient Psychiatric hospital.