A/N: I was going to stop for the night, but I only had two more chapters to edit before I actually have to write one and I decided why not? There will be errors since I am dead tired and it's almost 5am where I live. I think the storm outside is keeping me awake since it always inspires me. Odd... and a tangent... Anyhow, what I mean to say is there will be one more chapter for this hour I think after this one. I'll strive for one more sometime during today, but who knows? I have a lot of school things to do.

Now for the story. One, you will meet a OC I created that will play a role in this series soon but not immediately. Took me a bit to figure her out, but I think she will be something different. Also, Sherlock! He clearly can't be normal and in this, he isn't! You will see why and how and it will slowly click into place for his antics and characteristics. Enjoy!

Read/follow/fav/review! Enjoy the chapter! Ciao~

Disclaimer: I do not own Sherlock

Chapter 5: Delicate

"Well, John. Don't know if you can tell, but you're glowing."

Yeah, I needed another drink. I haven't had enough yet. Not nearly.

I was acting pathetic. This was supposed to be one fantastic night with Mary to celebrate her promotion, but now it's ended up a drink-until-you-drop party just to drown out what happened. Mary didn't say anything but smiled sympathetically and would joke around every so often. I kept my hand on a shot at all times. My rational side told me to stop this, but rationality was out the window the second I was told I was glowing.

Glowing.

God. Maybe it was the light. Yeah, that's it. Somebody placed a lamp behind me and made it appear I had an aura of a Iridescence. Must be it. No other way.

Because I definitely did not find my soul mate.

Preposterous.

I took another shot and ordered a back up.

I could feel my capacity to think slowly go down the drain. I should know better. I should. I am a bloody doctor. I know drinking messes up your systems and I know it doesn't solve anything. I mean, I have Harry to show for that. Drinking doesn't solve anything and yet that appears to be the Watson way of dealing with things. My father and Harry would be oh so proud of me joining their little troupe of alcoholics.

Except I'm not good at holding my liquor nor do I have an endurance. After perhaps a few pints and one or two shots, I could feel my last smidgeon of rationality fly out the window with an SOS sign attached to it.

Luckily I had Mary with me or I would be royally caught in a jam.

"John. It's not that bad. Maybe it's just he weird lighting. You know how the hospital lights are," she spoke, patting my back. I sighed and looked at her. She gave a smile back but I could tell she didn't like me drinking. I didn't like it either.

And yet I somehow found another shot in my hand.

"Yeah... but... but... still. I mean... ugh. I can't concentrate with my... my head like this," I groaned and Mary patted my back again.

"At least your speech isn't slurred," she added cheerfully and I laughed humorlessly.

"Yet."

She didn't say anything to that and continued to help me along my miserable path of being a utter drunk.

"Mary," I squeezed my eyes shut (like that would help) and opened them to look at her.

"Hm?" she responded, sipping her drink thoughtfully as she watched the telly in the pub.

"I'm... I'm sorry for tonight. I really am. I don't know why that whole glowing thing caught me by surprise since normally I don't get caught by surprise because I'm an army man you know and nothing can catch me off guard but that one little phrase did and-" I continued to ramble and ramble and Mary's expression changed to one of amusement. After a minute of this, she placed her index finger over my lips and hushed me. I continued to apologize with my eyes.

"Oh goodness John. I am having an interesting time. Maybe not as astounding as a dinner for two could have been, but something new. For one," she grinned, "I found that you are a very emotional drunk."

"'m not," I mumbled and she pressed her index finger more firmly against my lips.

"Listen to me. Tomorrow, go back to that man's room. I don't support denial, but if that what helps you through this drinking habit you might pursue, do it. Although, I will say that after a while you won't be able to discern it as lighting or a lightning strike. But until that time comes just continue to act as you normally do. Besides," she giggled, "That man didn't seem the type for you John. Perhaps it was my sight. Maybe."

She moved her finger to place both of her hands on either side of my face, "Do you understand what I am saying, John?"

I nodded and she smiled before kissing my forehead. Any other passerby would view it as affection, but it was just Mary being Mary. She was very mother hen like and doted on most of her friends like she was their godmother of sorts. It's why so many people like her at the hospital. She's also one of the few people who work in the Sanctuary and Coping Zones without changing psychologically. My first friend and my back up mother. Didn't expect it to mix when I first saw her.

After making me drink a glass of water and munching on some chips to help the liquor, she pushed me into a cab, paid for my fare, and then sent me home.

Morning came too quickly.

The next day I was tempted to call in sick. Very tempted. So tempted in fact that talking to Sherlock Holmes was almost not enough to get me out of bed. Luckily for my job and that childish man, I have a driving force in this flat.

That being Harriet.

"John!" she cried, pulling the blankets off of me. I resulted in grabbing my pillow and stuffing it in my face, ignoring the pulsing head ache and turning to avoid the sunlight piercing the curtains.

"Oh no you don't," she huffed before wrestling with me for the pillow. It was futile on my case. I was weakened by the abuse of alcohol. She took it without a problem and I didn't have anything left to do but just plunge my face into the mattress itself. No. I was not getting up as long as that damn sun was up.

I heard a sigh and a second later Harry was beside me, "John. Do you really wish me to repeat what happened last time you did this? I could definitely get those water guns if you want." I was up in an instant although I quickly hated the movement and used my hands to shield my eyes. Harry got the hint real quick.

Leaving the room temporarily, she came back with a glass of water and a pill I assumed would help with this blinding head ache. She sat down next to me on the mattress and coaxed the glass into my hands with the pills. I took them quickly before hiding my face again.

Why. Why did I drink? Why couldn't I have been rational? Damn it. And the hospital was full of windows. Today was going to be grand. Absolutely grand.

"John," Harry poked me and I glared at her before closing my eyes, "Why did you go drinking? Normally you are the designated driver, not the one to get completly wasted. So what was it? Coworker? Bad day at work I assume?" I didn't reply but she could tell. She was my sister after all.

"You know drinking is not going to fix the problem," she reminded and I laughed with no amusement.

"Really? You do it a lot regardless." She stiffened at that and stood, sighing.

"Fine. I'll go get Clara. Maybe she can help. I'm not good with being sensible. That's why I have her," I knew she was grinning and when I peeked up she was gone. A minute later another hand, smaller and thinner, touched my shoulder and I met the calm eyes of Clara. She looked worried. Goodness, when isn't she worried? She had to deal with Harry.

Covering my eyes once more, I continued to stare at the kind floor. I saw the outline of my shadow and Clara's next to it.

She didn't say anything. She left me to wallow in my pain and I began to feel guilty. That was the "Clara Charm" though, as Harry called it. Making you feel bad when you know you did nothing. Absolutely nothing.

"Clara? What did you do when you thought you might have found your mate?" I asked with exhaustion, squinting a little into the light. I might as well get used to it.

"Oh!" she exclaimed, "Did you?" I shook my head quickly.

"Uh... no. Not me. A bloke at work. Thinks he found her, but he's not sure." And then I somehow made the mistake of averting my eyes, the key tell-tale sign of lying. If Clara caught it she didn't say anything to it.

"Well... then this mate of yours should maybe spend more time with the specific girl. You know, get to know her. After a bit maybe then he can bring it up to her and go from there. They shouldn't rush it. That's a sign for a horrible bond," she smiled and I realized why this was Harry's mate and why even though she may be drunk and gone in the haze of irrationality, she still comes home.

Part of me wished to have someone like that while the other half was against it. Independent. The soldier. Ever the soldier that wishes for nobody to rely on.

Clearing my throat, I nodded, "Yeah. Yeah, you're right. Thanks Clara."

Standing up with me, she kissed me on the cheek and walked out with a short-handed wave, "Anytime John."

Within the next fifteen minutes along with a helping cup of tea, I was gone. Harry had a pair of sunglasses in her fingers, but I didn't take them. I could just see the giggles she would give if I took them. Mainly because they were hers and she knew it. Female glasses on me? I'll pass. Gratefully.

When I walked in, Mary was at my side in an instant. She gave me this look of sympathy and I sighed.

"I regret drinking," I groaned.

"Says everyone who has a hangover," she replied with a smirk before handing over a clipboard with my patients for today.

"We don't have that many today so after you get them, you can probably go home. I don't think Sarah would mind too much. Besides, you and her are mates so she probably wouldn't care," Mary shrugged with a smile. I nodded, looking forward to the early release.

Well, after I talk with Sherlock.

Waving goodbye, I headed to the Clinical Zone, mentally cringing as I passed by the Sanctuary Zone to get there. I could already hear the wails and cries. The hang over didn't help that and made it so much worse.

I glance at the clipboard and nodded.

Name: Lucille Faye

Age: 11

Race/Division: Translucence

Symptoms: Patient says she was attacked by one of the Violent Vicinity. Scratches and possible sprained wrist. Check for concussion. Otherwise, perfectly fine.

Additional notes: She is quite shy. Don't make any quick movements.

Knocking on the door, I waited a few seconds before walking in. I was met with a tiny girl, clearly Translucence, with short, wavy hair of a white color. I could see the veins and malnourished figure closely associated with the Translucent sort and knew this was Ms. Lucille.

"Hello Lucille," I greeted and walked slowly toward her. She stiffened a little, her eyes looking at me and not seeing me. I waited a second and she relaxed after a shook her hand. She offered a shaky smile. Oh, the poor girl. This was probably her first time being here in the hospital and by the looks of the records, she's orphaned. She probably wanted to run back to her group by this point.

I fetched the bandages and slowly coaxed her arms from her chest to wrap them, "What happened to you if you don't mind me asking, Ms. Faye?" I have to be calm which wasn't too hard.

"The... The Violence got to me," was all she replied in her soft whisper. I nodded.

"Did they do anything else to you?" If so, I was going to have to call the New Scotland Yard to tell them of this. They won't be able to do much, but they can try to protect her kind a little. God, the Violent Vicinity was getting out of order.

The Violent Vicinity is much like the Translucent. Actually, they are exactly like them. They are severely pale with skin so translucent that anybody can see the veins and organs of their being. They are advanced mentally and can tell almost anything about you. On top of that, they have the malnourished figure and sharp cheekbones the type carries.

That being said, they do hold their differences.

Their blood is black. It can be viewed by a Monochrome or Iridescence and still be black. They are very cocky and have red (or so I hear from the Iridescence) eyes that change to silver when angered unlike the Translucence's blue – yet another color I would like to assign to this name – eyes.

Of course they have to be the opposite of the Translucence. Their goal is to get rid of them actually and it's because of that that we have so many of the Translucence coming into this hospital. They try their hardest to get rid of them. That's probably what happened to poor Lucille here.

Wrong place wrong time.

Snipping the bandages, I rubbed the frayed edge to the other bandage and smoothed it out. I took care of her other injuries with little to no conversation. If I did speak, it would be to tell her what I was doing to make her feel at ease. Nothing promotional nor of information worthy. Just to keep her calm and relaxed. I didn't want her to be scared in such a safe haven.

Within half an hour everything was done. She hopped down and was about to go to the door when I called to her.

"Ms. Faye?"

She froze, but it wasn't in fear. I think I just surprised her really.

Turning around slowly, she looked to where my voice came from and I smiled. I handed her a piece of candy. Nothing more than a lollipop, but her face brightened immediately once she realized what it was. A smile bloomed and it was worth it.

"Doctor Watson?" she murmured.

I nodded.

"Thank you."

My grin widened and I replied as I usually do, "You are very welcome. Please be careful from here on. I don't want you back here unless it's just a stroll, you here?" She giggled and nodded before walking out with a wave.

I sighed, the lingerings of a smile on my face. Now, for the next patient.

Turned out the other patients were check ups for the elderly. Mostly Monochrome. One of the Sepia Order and one of the Sombre divisions. It was all easy and I finished them with the greatest of ease. Everyone left happy – except for the Sombre but no one could help their cause – and I was left feeling like I fulfilled my good deeds of the day.

That's when I saw the last name on the list.

Sherlock Holmes.

I was about to dismiss it and put it down for the moment when an extra paper behind it caught my attention. This wasn't here before . I know this wasn't here before because I am Sherlock's personal doctor until he is healed. Mary couldn't have placed this here or anybody for that matter. Who would put this here then? It is clearly about Sherlock Holmes judging from the name on top.

Mycroft Holmes.

Everything clicked. Of course. He's probably trying to get me to leave Sherlock alone. Sadly, that doesn't seem to be happening anytime soon.

The clipboard tipped towards the desk where I was going to put it but curiosity gripped me. It was in my documents and if Mycroft placed this here then surely this is fine for me to read? I have his consent.

Taking a deep breath, I peered at the paper. I was immediately met by a note by yours truly.

Doctor Watson,

Seeing as you will be Sherlock's doctor as well as his companion while he is there, I am going to give this to you. You are to, under no circumstances, show this to Sherlock or tell him of this. Do not tell anyone else of what this is. Do not keep this. Burn it if you will. I would rather not have this document go into the wrong hands and I trust that after you read this you will learn why Sherlock is under my jurisdiction.

-Mycroft Holmes

Pursing my lips, I took off the note and placed it aside.

The paper underneath was clearly for the government. Or, at least, it was under that high of security. Underneath the symbol was Sherlock's full name, age, and everything about him. It was all normal, like any Monochrome, except for one detail.

Name: Sherlock William Scott Holmes

Age: 36

Race/Division: Monochrome*

That was the normal objectives in this form. The exception was the asterisk. It was practically an entire report on an event which lead to more conclusions and less confusion.

*At the age of 12, Sherlock Holmes was subjected to certain tests due to an illness he contracted that was close to being terminal. In the case of these tests, he was cured of the disease and never showed symptoms to even having it in the first place. However, to be cured of this illness, his gene structure was changed by the methods used. The drug administered, a type influenced by the Translucence, enabled him to show distinct changes similar to their stature. He can see though his eyes are of their blue. He always appears malnourished and his skin seems to have paled from his earlier hue. On top of that, his mental skills have increased to profound levels, going as far as to be able to "deduct" people and what they have done. Confidentiality level: 5

Some of the details made some sense now. Like his skin color and the pale grey in his eyes that seem to apply to the color blue. His deductions and almost most of what made him stand out suddenly made sense.

For some reason I didn't like knowing this. The mystery was one of the best factors of this man. Not to mention, why can't Sherlock know about this? Why doesn't he remember? I have to abide by confidentiality, but at the same time I wanted to break it to show Sherlock.

Sighing I folded the paper and stuck it in the inner linings of my jacket and walked out the door, flipping the lights.

I didn't care about the note. I didn't care at all. Definitely not. What I did care about was going to see Sherlock.

Right. He wanted to talk to me, didn't he?

Well, I suppose my day was going to be a little bit more interesting before I leave.

As if it hadn't been already.