The Question of Faith in Baskerville

Chapter Twelve: A Bit of Illumination

John snapped awake. A glance at the clock revealed it to be just about 5:00. He twisted round to see that the other bed had been slept in, though there was no sign of its occupant. At least Sherlock had gotten a couple hours sleep. But what had woken John?

"Call Henry."

John furrowed his brows. This was honestly the first time he could say that he'd received a verbal or near verbal order from God. Yet, surprisingly a part of him protested. "Surely he is still sleeping. He's exhausted. He needs all the sleep he can get."

"Call Henry."

"Alright, alright," John said. He retrieved his phone from the nightstand, and punched in Henry's number. He hoped he wasn't disturbing the young man's rest.

"He-hello?" an exhausted, haunted voice came through.

"Henry, are you alright?" John asked, worried. He barely kept himself from slapping himself. Henry certainly didn't sound fine.

"A nightmare, a long, long nightmare, I can't wake up," Henry sobbed into the phone. "Mum and Dad aren't coming. I can't wake up."

"Okay, okay," John said as gently as he could as he wriggled out of his bed. "Stay on the line with me, okay. I'll be over as soon as I can." Somehow he managed to keep Henry on the phone and talking as he hurriedly changed and grabbed a windbreaker from his case. He then ran all the way to Henry's place. He only paused momentarily outside the door to catch his breath. A glance at his phone's clock showed he'd made excellent time, about a half-hour. Thank you, Lord, that I kept my exercise up.

He then hurried inside. "Henry!" he called. "I'm here! Where are you?"

"I can't shout, or it will find me," Henry said, his voice small and terrified as a child's.

John forced himself to calm down. "Okay," he said, lowering his voice. "So, you can't call out to me. Tell me, direct me to where you are."

"Kitchen," he answered.

"Okay, I'm coming towards you now," John said. "Just hang in there for me. Are you able to see anything?"

"No-no. But it's out there, I know it is."

"It's alright, sh. It's going to be okay." John entered the kitchen. He suspected that in Henry's frame of mind he wouldn't be out in the open. The kitchen itself was empty, but the sitting room. He crouched down, then his heart broke.

No grown man should feel the need to hide beneath and behind a piece of furniture. But that's where Henry lay, shaking, and quietly sobbing hidden by the sofa.

John quietly, slowly approached. He lowered himself onto his stomach, ignoring the phantom protest of his bad leg. "Henry," he called quietly, gently. "I'm here, now. It's okay."

Henry shook his head, curling up. "It will get me."

John summoned Healing Warrior then changed it to Empty Cross. "I won't let it come anywhere near you, I promise," he said.

Henry looked from his eyes to the keyblade and back again. He nodded and then allowed John to carefully ease him out.

"Okay, that's it," John said. "Everything's going to be alright." He fought to keep from reacting when Henry threw himself into John's chest, holding onto him like a lifeline. John wrapped his free arm around him.

"Where's Mum? Where's Dad?" Henry asked, shaking.

"They're not here at the moment," John answered. "But they sent me here to wake you up."

"They did?" Henry asked, looking up at him like a frightened child to a trusted adult.

John nodded. "It's time to wake up from the nightmare." He wrapped his arms around Henry, holding him tight. He wished he knew some sort of waking spell. He prayed to know how to break Henry from his current haze.