Chapter 12

John was just running down the cobblestone paths when he saw Lestrade standing in front of him with a dark glint in his eye. John stopped in his tracks, breathing hard from the run.

"Get away from me," John gasped, taking a few steps back. Lestrade turned his head to the side, glaring at the doctor with blazing eyes, but he didn't say anything. No, instead John heard a small voice from behind. John turned around to meet the twinkling eyes of Molly. She had a sad look on her face and small tears were trickling from her eyes.

"You lied to me, Dr. Watson," Molly sniffled. John frowned at her.

"Me? What are you talking about?" John asked, stepping to the side so he could look at both of them at once.

"You promised me that you would remain loyal to him," Molly stuttered, clearing her eyes. "Even if he was the one who made you doubt." John shook his head.

"No, I was wrong. Mr. Holmes is mad. I've never met him in my life-"

"ARE YOU REALLY THAT THICK?!" Lestrade screamed, slamming his fist into a tree and sending splinters skittering in every direction. John flinched, taking a few steps back until he was almost close enough to bump into Molly. "Did you even allow him to explain? Did you even pretend to listen?" John remained silent and watched as Lestrade fumed in anger. "He trusted you, John! You were his only hope to be free and you ruined it!" Lestrade barked.

"How could I believe him?!" John finally snapped back, earning silence from Lestrade at last. "I've never met him in my life and yet he says that we were living together!" John shouted. "How in god's name could listening have helped? I know my own life." John let silence surround them and waited for Lestrade to strike back. Lestrade took in a deep breath and then whispered in a soft and gentle voice,

"Mrs. Hudson." John paled; an image of an elderly woman in a flower printed dress walked through his mind. She was smiling at him and another figure. The figure was blurry, though. He couldn't see it. John shook his head, trying to get the picture out of his head, but it wouldn't leave. "She was your landlady. Do you remember her?" Lestrade asked. John shook his head, holding it as a headache pounded in his head.

"You and Sherlock were flat mates and friends." Molly stated as John closed his eyes, trying to block out the visions. It only made them clearer, though. A blurry figure of a man in a purple shirt was playing a beautiful violin and the lady Lestrade described was there pointing at a wall with a yellow smiley face painted on it.

"What did you do to my bloody wall?" John heard himself mumble. His hand darted to his mouth. Where had that come from? He noticed a smile on Lestrade's face and the DI then asked,

"Remember the day you first met?" John closed his eyes again, seeing himself and some man walk into a lab. The blurry figure was there, wearing a suit. He could see the picture clearly, but the sound was muffled. Somehow he knew exactly what everyone was saying.

"What's happening?" John gasped, opening his eyes.

"You're remembering," Molly informed him.

"But it never..." John trailed off as a new image walked into his view. He was in a dark pool. His body felt heavy. Ugh…what was he wearing? John pulled away the coat to see a bomb strapped to his chest. Fear and panic bubbled through him. What was that doing on him?! Suddenly, with a flash of light he was standing next to the pool staring at the blurry figure who was pointing a gun at someone standing next to him. John glanced to his left to see a man in a Westwood suit and a skull tie. His hair was just as dark as his eyes, which were covered completely in an insane fog. He recognized the man instantly. He had seen pictures and newspapers of him. It was Richard-

"Jim Moriarty…HI!" the man John knew as Richard Brook sing songed. John's body instantly stiffened. He slowly opened his eyes and stared at Molly and Lestrade.

"Here," Molly called, tossing a blue scarf into his hands. "Maybe this will help you see him." John held the scarf up into the light. He let his eyes fall close. The blurry figure sharpened and cleared until it took form of the very man John accused as being a fake. It was Sherlock. Raven black curls in his face, a big dark coat, and blue scarf. John paled. He had seen that coat before! He had grabbed it when he was getting rain coats! John closed his eyes as another image of Sherlock called to him.

"What I said before, John, I meant it. I don't have friends…I just got one," Sherlock stated, sympathy dripping from his mouth. John felt his heart tug at the words. The last vision was the one that finally broke him. He was staring up at a building with a phone to his ear and a hand outstretched toward a dark figure standing on the edge of the building.

"Goodbye, John," a voice from the other end of the phone whispered. John pulled his eyes away from the scene. He knew what was happening. He could still see the man outstretch his hands and fall to his death. He could see the blood flowing down the pavement. He could see it. He could remember it.

"What have I done?" John gasped, leaning against a tree to keep himself from collapsing. "What have I done?" Lestrade and Molly stared at him with sad sympathetic eyes as memories blasted John left and right. He remembered. He remembered his friends, Moriarty, the fall, the return, but most of all he remembered Sherlock. Every piece of his life came running back to him, including the case that caused all of this. John's hands shook violently as he held his head in his hands. "What have I done?!" John repeated. Molly rested a hand on John's shoulder, smiling sweetly at him.

"You can still help him, John," Molly said soothingly. John looked at her with a hopeful gleam in his eye.

"Find him and believe," Lestrade stated. John stared at him and looked back over to the Asylum.

"I'm coming, Sherlock," John stated before running back to the one place he had wanted to run away from. Molly stepped over to Lestrade's side.

"Looks like we are no longer needed," she sighed sadly. Lestrade nodded.

"Let's just hope he gets there before it happens again." Molly paled, remembering the sight from the first time. It was going to be alright, though. They just have to hope John gets there in time.