It Yet Remains to See

Chapter 3

In the weeks preceding the trial, Sherlock and John spent most of their time on the sofa. It was a tight fit, but John had to stay close to him at night to know when he was having a nightmare because Sherlock never screamed. The only indication John got that something was wrong was when Sherlock started shaking. During the day, John turned on the telly and tried to find something interesting enough to distract him, but the boy lay still and unresponsive with his upper body cradled in John's lap. It was a difficult task getting Sherlock to eat. John tried not to seem overbearing or controlling, but it worried John the way he could feel Sherlock's ribs through his t-shirt.

One night when John was taking out the rubbish to the bins in the alley, he stopped for a minute to and leaned against the wall. He hadn't realized how much weight was lying on his heavy heart until he allowed himself this short break to be alone and just breathe. However, he wasn't as alone as he thought.

Light spilled out into the dark alleyway as Dannie opened the back door Mrs. Hudson's kitchen. "John? What are you doing out here?"

John sank down to the cold pavement. "Just thinking about how I should be thrown out with the rubbish considering how useless I am."

"Oh dear Lord," Dannie muttered. "I'm gonna go put the kettle on. When you're done wallowing, come inside and we'll have a chat."

The door creaked shut, leaving the alley dark once more. John exhaled slowly and rubbed his eyes. He knew feeling sorry for himself wasn't doing anyone any good, but he was honestly at a loss for what to do, and he didn't want to burden Dannie with his troubles. Still, the fact remained that he desperately needed someone to talk to.

By the time John stumbled into the kitchen and collapsed into a chair, Dannie was busy arranging the milk, sugar bowl, teapot, and a couple of mugs on the table.

"Has Mrs. Hudson gone to sleep yet?" John asked, squinting under the bright fluorescent lights.

"Yeah," Dannie answered. "She's a light sleeper, so we probably ought to be quiet." John murmured his thanks as she handed him his mug. Preparing it the usual way, he added milk to the tea, but he neglected the sugar bowl. "I don't know how you can stand drinking coffee or tea without any sugar in it," Dannie said quietly, emptying a third of the sugar bowl into her mug.

John smiled. "My sister used to say that it's because I'm sweet enough as it is, but I'm pretty sure she was being sarcastic."

Dannie giggled. "Yeah, I can see that. You're actually a bit intimidating, especially when you're angry."

"God, I hope I don't scare you."

"No, I mean that in a good way," Dannie reassured him. "You're not the peacemaking type. You're a fighter, and you're fiercely protective of the people you care about."

From the expression on John's face, Dannie could tell he was thinking about his loved ones, especially the one lying practically comatose in the flat above them. Her big brown eyes shone with concern when she asked, "How is he doing?"

"Not good," John said truthfully. "I'm not sure anymore if encouraging him to testify was the right thing to do. Maybe Lestrade was right, and he would have been better off not getting involved in the case."

Dannie shook her head. "No, you were right. The best thing for Sherlock right now is getting him to talk about what happened to him, even if it seems like it's doing more harm than good. Until now the only way he's known how to deal with it is by repressing it or numbing it away by hurting himself."

John shuddered. "I'm still scared that he'll hurt himself again, or that this will push him too far."

Dannie stared down at her mug and was silent for a moment. Then she looked up at him and said, "John, you know quite a bit about how the human body works, right?"