Hi my lovely readers! I have back tracked a bit to make a few changes to chapters two to thirteen, the change being a date being added at the top of each chapter for what day the chapter starts on.
Warning: Panic, self-doubt, and a bit of self-hate.
June 18th, 2005
Sherlock's POV
He is startled by Jim's blatant description of what he is. Even more surprised by the fact John seems ready to defend him, even against someone so obviously dangerous. He knows just by watching how Jim moves and speaks he is not lying, and yet John is willing to stand up to him.
He spends a lot of the walk considering that, his mind only barely paying attention to his surroundings, just enough to fulfill Jim's challenge.
It confuses him and touches him in a way he has a hard time explaining. Not that he is sure he really wants to.
A million miles a second his mind flies, analyzing each and every word and sentence, probably over thinking knowing him. It's one of his biggest problems, over thinking and reading too much into situations and people.
Just outside of a small restaurant John chuckles softly, and he feels entranced. A spark of heat bolts through his body at this first noise he has heard out of the doctor, almost embarrassing him at the way he feels. He never felt that way with his friend. Never wondered how to make him do it again. Why does he feel that way now? It's wrong, it has to be, because he wants it, and he knows he's wrong. Thankfully his face doesn't give it away or if it does, his companions don't remark on it.
When they get to the restaurant, he discovers it is actually a pizza parlor. He almost expects to be stuck out in the open, so he is surprised when after their meal is brought to them a privacy curtain is dropped. Blink in shock, a small smile covers his lips, because they are in private which makes him feel better. Logically, he knows there are people on the other side, but those people cannot see him.
Despite that, he is careful as he eats, wanting to make sure he doesn't embarrass John in case anyone should come by.
The food is better than he expects, though he doesn't taste too much of it because he is too busy being worried about everything and everyone, in particular John and what he thinks.
So when John challenges Jim, he is a bit startled. He is even more startled when the agent answers aloud. So far Jim has barely spoken around him, for which he has been grateful, and that's a feeling he doesn't want to consider right now. Particularly considering the fact he is grateful to a psychopath who just happens to be his minder. Something about that seems wrong, he just can't tell what. It takes him a few minutes to work out what the challenge is and why it is one.
When he does work out what the challenge is, he can feel his eyes widen in shock. How does John expect Jim to understand the emotional reasoning when he can't feel them or only feels a really limited version of them? That doesn't make sense. Why would Jim accept a challenge like that?
Of course, nearly as soon as he thinks it, he gets it. It's because it is a challenge. His minder accepted because it is not something he can easily do, it is something that will take effort, something his mind can easily comprehend. Oh. Well that explains why he accepted it.
Why is he so slow? It should have been so simple to understand. It's so simple.
A hand on his elbow draws him out of his mind, causing him to blush in embarrassment.
-Your mind is trying to play tricks on you.- Jim tells him seriously.
He blinks in confusion, trying to understand, but again feeling like he is stupid and missing the obvious.
-It's alright Sherlock,- John states calmly, lightly pulling his hand off his elbow, causing him to feel the sudden loss as if it is so much more.
Blinking again, he focuses on the doctor, trying to understand. He must have done something embarrassing.
-You got a pensive look on your face,- John comments, -I think it's because I challenged Jim. What I cannot figure out is whether you want a challenge from me, or whether your annoyed it took you a few moments to understand what his challenge is.-
Blushing, he stares at the table, watching the doctor from the corner of his eye to make sure he doesn't miss anything but not saying anything. He's upset John. He hadn't wanted to upset John. Damn it, why does nothing he do or think ever come out right?
Closing his eyes, he focuses on just breathing, he can breathe at least. When he is done getting his breathing straight, he slowly opens his eyes and glances at the blonde man beside him.
As every other time they have been together, the doctor is waiting for him to be comfortable, not pushing him to speak. Actually, the host hasn't been around much now that he thinks about it, but he pushes that aside to focus on John. He should answer the not-question.
-I'm too slow,- he signs eventually, looking down almost as soon as he is done so he cannot see the agreement in the doctor's eyes.
"Bull shit," Jim remarks, making him jerk his head up in shock. –Your mind might be playing tricks on you, but you are definitely not slow. A slow person is boring. You are not boring.-
His doctor scowls at the agent for a moment before focusing on him. John's expression is calm, serious, and open as he speaks, -You are recovering. It's a slow process. There will be times that your mind feels sluggish, as if you can't think because it's too slow. There will be times that your mind will race, as if you can't slow or stop thinking because it is too fast. That's alright, it's part of the healing process.-
Slowly he nods in understanding, not sure he actually understands but thinking he might, just a little.
The rest of the meal goes smoothly, and he realizes that he is full not long after. He's eaten more willingly since meeting John than he has in the last six months. That's another thing to think about later.
While his companions finish eating, he chews on his bottom lip, trying to decide what to do next. Should he ask if they can go back to the office? Does he want to go back to the office? Should he try to continue the route? It's been very informational so far. Not anything like he was expecting when John had said he does rounds with the homeless. How did John start this? Why did John start this? Most people don't care what happens to the homeless. At least that's what he noticed when he was in uni. There were times he would hide from Mycroft and his minions just by pretending to be homeless and they would pass on by him, never noticing it was him. He never actually became friendly with any of them though, because they tended to annoy him, each one for different reasoning.
He knows the meal is done when the curtain is raised and he can suddenly see all the other people again.
For an instant he feels exposed but that feeling soon fades as his eyes dart around the room and he realizes no one is paying attention to him. Isn't that his life in a nutshell.
Except, his eyes turn back to his companions, that's not quite true anymore. Both John and Jim pay attention to him. Both of them praise him when they think he has done something right and both reassure him when they notice him worrying. Hmmm. Something else to think about. He can understand John's motivation, sort of, but not Jim's.
Giving a small shake of his head, he blinks a few times at the pair, realizing they are discussing the merits of the fork verse a spoon for soup. What does that have to do with anything?
-Really?- he signs, voice closing on him when he tries to say it aloud.
A playful smile curves the doctor's lips, -Really.-
Rolling his eyes, he almost misses Jim's pleased smile.
-Are you ready?- John inquires with a tilt of his head.
He nods in agreement, standing up and wanting to stretch but not sure if he should or not.
-Go for it,- Jim tells him, -those chairs do not look like they are made for tall folks and you're taller than the shrimp of a doctor beside you.-
-You don't have that much on me, thank you, I could still biff you with ease.- John retorts, but a small smile curves his lips.
Does his doctor like Jim? John can't like Jim! He can't explain it, but the idea of the doctor liking his minder sits uneasily in his stomach, leaving a sour taste in his mouth.
-Breath Sherlock,- John coaches slowly, -Take deep breathes, there you go,- the blonde reassures him as he steadies his breathing out.
Why would he feel that way about either? He wonders, deciding to add it to the list of things to think about later.
-Shall we continue or return to the office?- John asks him, eyes on him only.
-Continue,- he answers after a pause to think about it.
-Okay then, the next part is the long part. Then we stop for lunch, followed by the last leg of it.- the doctor tells him with a smile.
-Wait,- he signs, a bit confused, -Wasn't this lunch?-
Shaking his head no, the blonde replies, -Nope, this was tea time snacks, lunch is a little later and a bit bigger.-
He just stares, a bit dumbfounded. How much food does the doctor eat regularly? How does he stay in shape with it being so much?
-Believe me, it'll be burned off,- John comments as he waves Bill over. –We're off, how much for the food?-
-You know I won't accept your money, now scat, more people to father-hen.- the ex-soldier answers with a warm smile. –It was nice meeting you Sherlock, Jim,- he signs before nodding and wandering off without actually giving them a chance to answer.
John just shakes his head and motions to the door, pauses, and asks –Need the loo? It's through there,- he motions opposite of the door.
He's about to answer no, when he decides he better try just because he has had more food lately that then normally would and doesn't want to risk needing to go when they are moving about. Besides, this place seems clean and honest, it should be safe.
After a quick trip to the loo, they are off, starting on the next stretch of the circuit. He finds his nerves seem to be a lot more frayed, and he feels like every person they come in contact with is making it worse, but he doesn't want to say anything because he is also enjoying himself. He doesn't know how far they are from the next planned stop, 'lunch', when the panic attack nearly brings him to his knees as a couple having a domestic is the piece that sends him over the edge.
The loud noises, screaming and shouting, angry voices and harsh words each feel like needles pressing into his skull. It hurts so much. It's too much. His eye close tightly and his hands come up to cover his ears as he dusks his head, entire body shaking with the effort to stay upright. His chest hurts and feels like someone has a vice squeezing him, making it hard to breath.
A familiar hand at his elbow has him jerking away blindly as he tries to say something, anything, but he can't make his throat work. It feels like someone is pouring acid down it. That hand comes back, gentle, soft, guiding him though he doesn't know where.
Cool air suddenly surrounds him, and the soft clicking sound of the door seals out the noise.
It takes him a few minutes before he is able to breathe a bit better. Slowly, he releases his ears, skin burning brightly as he realizes how much of an embarrassment he must be.
He doesn't expect John to be with him when he opens his eyes. He doesn't expect Jim to understand. Yet as he cracks his eyes open, John is sitting across from him, next to his brother's PA. A reassuring smile curves the blonde's lips as their eyes meet. Turning his head, he finds Jim beside him, humming softly, some sort of lullaby, he thinks, it's almost too quiet to hear.
-Better?- John asks lightly.
He just nods, embarrassed about how pathetic he must seem.
-It's alright. I was worried it might be a bit much for you.- the doctor tells him. –You did wonderfully, I am very happy with your progress.-
His brow furls as he considers that statement. What progress? He freaked out in the middle of the street. His brother had to send a car for them. That's not progress.
-Yes it is,- Jim signs, -You went far longer than either of us expect. You were communicative, engaged, interested. That was great.-
What? He's confused. How did he do good? He had panic attack in the street. He didn't manage to talk when he tried to. He didn't understand the challenge all that fast. He was slow practically the entire day. His body aches and he's tired though the other two seem perfectly fine. He doesn't understand.
-Doctor Watson, I am to drop you off at the clinic if you desire?- Anna signs, hands flickering for a moment and eyes leaving her phone which is currently on her lap.
-Yes please.- the doctor answers. Turning to his minder, John comments, -Make sure he gets enough rest and fluids.-
-Yes,- Jim replies with a nod.
-Good.- the doctor's attention switches back to him, -I believe there is an opening Tuesday if you'd like?-
He nods slowly, surprised John still wants to see him after today.
-Great, have one of these two give a call to my secretary Monday morning to schedule it.- the blonde suggests with a smile.
He nods again as the car comes to a stop.
When had they started moving? He really is slow toady.
-Until then, I hope you have a good weekend Sherlock.- John tells him with a honest expression.
When the car door opens the doctor signs farewell to the other two in the car, and gets out of the car, heading into the clinic.
Nothing else is said or signed as the three of them return to his brother's flat. Even without being asked he heads directly to his room, striping off his clothes and crawling under the blankets in nothing but his pants. He has a lot to think about, but right now he just feels exhausted. Maybe a small nap is in order.
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