Skinny Love: A Johnlock Fanfiction

Chapter Sixteen

"Say something, like you think you love me." ~'Believe' by Mumford and Sons

John

"You have your passport?"

"Yes."

"Are you sure?"

"For God's sake, John, will you stop? This is the third time you've asked."

"I'm sorry," John sighed, walking past a winding queue for tickets. "I'm just nervous, I guess."

"Well you're not the one leaving," Sherlock snapped.

John winced. Yes, of course. Sherlock was the one leaving.

It just so happened that matters were made worse after Sherlock's hospitalization a week ago. First of all, Katherine had disappeared. John had tried calling her mobile, but it went right to voicemail. It didn't matter at this point, really. John could kick down her door and demand answers, but that would create more trouble than he needed at the moment.

There was Sherlock. He was malnourished and underweight, and no heartfelt confessions could fix that. It came as a shock to John, given that Sherlock's weight had been increasing during his few weeks of home-feeding. Apparently Sherlock had been tricking him by tinkering with the scale every night. Honestly, John was too shocked to be angry.

The doctor at the hospital received two unlikely assistants for Sherlock's case: Daniel Redison and Mycroft Holmes.

"Good evening, all!" Dan said with a 100-watt grin as he sidled into the hospital room. Mycroft gave each of them a cold nod.

"What are you doing here?" Sherlock glared at them. "You two are the last people I want to see."

"Oh, brother dearest," Mycroft shook his head. "You truly failed me. I am very disappointed in you."

"Oh, fuck off," Sherlock snapped. "You're just dissapointed that your precious investment went to waste."

"You really think-"

"Okay!" Dan clapped his hands loudly. "Let's all be adults here, hm?"

Mycroft took a step back and crossed his arms, giving Dan a curt nod. "Of course."

"Now Sherlock," Dan said, turning to the seething man in the hospital bed. "Please be reasonable. I came here to discuss your treatment."

"What are you talking about?" Sherlock scoffed. "You're not my therapist anymore."

"That's true, but-" Dan suddenly noticed John, and stopped cold. "John! I, uh, didn't see you there!"

"I've been here the whole time," John said, crossing his arms. "And Sherlock is right- you're not his therapist."

"Hey, uh, John," Dan let out a weak chuckle. "Would you mind stepping out for a bit?"

"Excuse me?"

"Just a few minutes is all, I'd just like to discuss matters with Sherlock," He cleared his throat and gave Mycroft a look, "Alone."

"But what-"

"John," Mycroft interrupted. "Please follow me." He then swept John out of the room with his umbrella, closing the door behind them.

"What the hell is going on?" John asked, his confusion turning into frustration. "Why did you bring Dan here?"

"He is the head of Sherlock's professional intervention, naturally," Mycroft said, adjusting his cuff links. "I had no choice but to call Dr. Redison when I heard the news of of my brother's hospitalization."