Together at Last

Medications

Sherlock dosent leave my side, per my request, for the whole night. Whenever he gets up to leave, I follow him out. He lets me, each and every time.

"What are you two doing up?"

Mycroft is up now, its just past three thirty and Sherlock is up for the day.

"Tea."

He refuses to answer Mycroft most of the time, if he does its a simple answer. Greg cant get him to talk either, just me. Turns out Sherlock was asking me about the tea, not talking to his brother.

"Sure."

I notice he only pulls two cups, completely ignoring Mycroft. He seems to be stable for the moment. The sight of the bloodstained bandages poking out from under his sleeves makes me want to cry, he notices when he hands me my tea.

"What's wrong?"

I don't answer, instead hugging him. He lets me, though I can tell he dosent want to be touched right now. When I go to pull back, he holds me tighter. I accept it, and we go sit on the sofa together. He lies his head against my shoulder, snuggling closer when Mycroft brings us a blanket. Its warm, very warm, and Sherlock seems to like that. I hold him here, praying he will go back to sleep. He does, eventually, and Mycroft starts talking.

"He's going to be on a few different medications. It is essential that he does not find where you keep them, if he does it will not end with a failed attempt next time."

"How many?"

"Something for his insomnia, anxiety, appetite, and anti depressants."

"No. You can't give him all of that. We are working through all of that right now, this will stress him out again."

"And you see how well it has worked out for you."

"I gave you a year John, a year to work through this with him. Now, its time we do things my way. And if you won't give him what he needs, I will have him living here."

He has a point, I should let it go. Sherlock has improved, considerably, but he still has a lot of issues that I cannot help.

"When does everything come in?"

"Tomorrow."

"Shit."

"It'll be fine. Thats why hes here, I can help you if he needs it."

"Fine."

Mycroft stands, walking back down the hall to his room. I lie back, letting Sherlock curl up against my side before I let myself pass out.

"John?"

"I'm right here Sherlock."

He wakes me around lunch, obviously terrified.

"What's wrong?"

"Mycroft just told me everything comes in tomorrow."

"I know. You'll be okay, I promise."

"I don't want this. You are helping me, not the drugs."

He lies back against me, face pressed against my chest.

"Youre going to be okay Sherlock."

"Don't go."

"I wont."

Mycroft comes in, telling us both to eat something.

"I have to work today, Greg is staying home with you Sherlock."

He leaves, promising to be back later after dinner. Sherlock is shaking again, pulling the blanket tighter around us.

"Are you cold."