I Am Sher-Locked Up

*angsty untitled chapter in which johnlock begins*

John

John and Sherlock sit in the backseat of a cab, driving home for the first time since Sherlock was admitted. The tension in the air is thick enough to choke on. Sherlock glances to make sure the sliding plastic window between them and the driver is closed. 

"John--" Sherlock starts.

"Not just now," John cuts him off shortly. He wasn't in the mood for talking to Sherlock at this time. He was still angry, still worried, and worst of all--still scared. 

"I was just--" Sherlock begins again.

"Not. Just. Now." John repeats himself. 

The rest of the ride passes in uncomfortable silence.

When they arrive home, Sherlock retreats to his room. John opens his mouth to call him back, but the door is shut and that damn violin is playing before he can say anything.
John bites the inside of his cheek and turns his gaze to the phone book directory opened to the R section. He sits at the table and dials.

***

Sherlock

Sherlock plays a whiny, somber tune on his violin, taking sweeping strides around the room to assuage his panic. He is struck with an acute sense of deja vu: here he is, a month after John found out about it, playing his violin. There was a certain irony or full-circle feeling to it, but Sherlock doesn't care to try and name it. 

How was he going to convince John not to make him go to Riverside?? 

Probably the same way he's going to try to make you go there, Sherlock realizes, first, probably avoidance of the topic while passive aggressively forcing me to eat, and then casually bringing it up, which of course will cause an argument...

Sherlock's brain was buzzing with possible scenarios that could happen--from John leaving him be to him getting sectioned (again)--and the outcomes of each, when he realizes that each of these scenarios have one thing in common: John confronts him. 

Sherlock stops playing and straightens his coat. He tries not to notice how tightly it fit over his distended stomach--a product purely of the hospital's IV nutrient drip.
He pushes his mind off his clothing so that he can face the challenge at hand: He was not going to let John have the upper hand. He would have to bring the fight to John.

***

John

"Hello, you've reached Riverside Achievement Centre, this is Riley, how may I help you?" An annoyingly chipper voice that reminded John of a starling answered the phone after nearly a minute of ringing. 

"Hi, yes, this is John Watson--"

"Are you looking to check in or visit? Cause if you want to visit you need to call Tina at extension 40--"

"No," John cuts her off frustratedly, "I'm not visiting anyone." Not yet. 

"I just need to know how to book someone in who...isn't very...keen on the idea," John says carefully. 

"Oh, well, if they're over 18 then they can't be forced to come, even if they need to, unfortunately." John detects a hint of sadness in Riley's voice. He wonders what exactly put it there. 

"That's fine then. I don't know what answer I was expecting, to be honest," John says, his sad tone matching hers almost exactly. "Thanks, Riley."