sherlockbbc_fic | Prompting Part XXXIV

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Prompting Part XXXIV

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I meant to have this story finished by this weekend, but RL interfered. Here's the second part at least. Thank you for your patience and your kind comments!
_____________________________

They finally let him see Sherlock.

He is already sitting at a small table when John enters the visiting area, elbows propped up and fingers steepled under his chin, the sight so familiar that John’s throat constricts. He swallows hard and sits down in the chair opposite, the guard who led him in taking up position by the door, just out of earshot.

John shifts uncomfortably, but then his attention is on Sherlock and he drinks in the sight of him.

Sherlock is wearing some sort of grey prison outfit, cotton trousers and a shirt that makes John itch just by looking at it. Considering Sherlock’s usual taste in clothes it must be a drag for him to wear. His face is pale but then it always has been, cheekbones maybe a bit more prominent than a week ago. Other than that he seems calm, collected. John can only guess what’s going on behind the cool façade.

Sherlock’s eyes are on him, sharp and focussed.

“You haven’t been sleeping.”

John squirms a little under the gaze. “Nightmares. You know how it is.”

“No. You’re on edge, jittery. Nightmares of Afghanistan are always accompanied by a tremor in your left hand. Your hand is steady.”

“Oh, and you would know, of course,” John says. It comes out much more aggressively than he had intended.

“Yes,” Sherlock says simply. He goes back to scrutinising John, the parts that he can see. A small crease appears between his eyebrows.

“Have you seen your therapist?”

John bristles at the suggestion. “Why would I see a therapist?”

“Because you are experiencing symptoms of acute stress disorder,” Sherlock answers like a shot. “You startled when the guard brushed your arm and you have been keeping an eye on the door ever since you came in. In addition, the buttons on your shirt –“

“I’m not listening to this,” John says and suddenly finds himself on his feet. He doesn’t even remember making the decision to walk away; hell, he just got here, and he’s here because of Sherlock; it’s not as if he has any intention of leaving him.

John takes a deep breath to calm his racing heart. “I’m sorry.” He sits down again, the guard at the door glaring warily at him.

When John looks across the table again, Sherlock’s eyes are dark with concern. John can’t bear the inquisitiveness of that stare; he starts to fidget, helpless to stop himself, the needles under his skin getting more pronounced.

“Sherlock,” he says, his voice pleading. “Just let it go. Please. Just … let it go.”

Sherlock considers him for a long time. He finally nods.

They talk about trivial things then, anything but murder charges or prison sentences or gratefulness. Sherlock tells John about the bloke he’s sharing a cell with and the deductions he made about his second cousin. He asks about Mary and John shows him her latest sonogram. You can already make out their daughter’s nose and mouth in the picture and Sherlock smiles for the first time since John has walked in.

John is still skirting the issue that’s foremost on his mind, the big Why? that he hasn’t found the answer to yet and is somehow afraid to find.

After about twenty minutes, the guard signals him.

“I guess I have to go.”

Sherlock nods. “They aren’t very charitable when it comes to visiting hours here.”

“I’ll drop by again. As soon as they let me.” He gets up and reaches out to put a hand on Sherlock’s shoulder only to lose his nerve half-way. “Hang in there, Sherlock,” he says instead with all the emotion he can muster.

Sherlock looks up at him then, something indecipherable in his eyes.

“I’m sorry.”

“What?”

“I’m sorry, John. I should have killed him sooner.”

There’s an icy grip around his heart as John’s mind flashes back to the terrace and Magnussen’s cold, penetrating stare, his fingers that –

“It was me who had the gun in his coat,” he says, swallowing hard. “It wasn’t your responsibility.”

“It was. Oh, it was.”

“I could have shot him myself.”

“You are not a murderer.”

But you are now, John thinks. Like my wife. Like the psychopath Donovan always told me you were.

He lets his eyes roam about the room, looking anywhere but at Sherlock as he tries to get a grip on the well of despair threatening to engulf him. The guard is tapping his foot impatiently.

“I have to go.”

Sherlock fixes him with an intense look. “Denying it happened won’t make it go away.”

“Well, I can try,” John says and practically runs towards the exit.

Took me a while to get your timeline but now I understand that the Sherlock in prison scene takes place before the end of HLV with him on the plane ;)

Can't wait to see how Sherlock will act once he's out and back at 221B, though. He'll force John off the denial train, won't he?

This is amazing. Wow.

He hasn’t slept with Mary since it happened. Well, strictly speaking he hasn’t slept with Mary for months, but this is different. They have made up. It should be fine now. And yet John can’t bear the idea of being touched (again), not even by her, not so soon after –

That’s usually the point in his thought process when he has to leave the house to find something to beat his fist against.

Mary notices that something is wrong, of course she does. John can tell that she’s worried; once or twice she looks at him with a deep frown on her face and takes a breath as if to ask, but she never dares. John is grateful for it; he doesn’t know what might come out of him if she did. It’s still raw, this new peace between them, still fragile and delicate, and John would rather not put it to the test. Not when his whole world is already tearing itself apart at the seams.

Two days after his visit to Sherlock a black car stops in front of him on his way to work. John lingers at the kerb, fists clenching in his pockets, and considers fighting his way out of this. Which would be pointless, of course; there’s no telling how many agents Mycroft has hidden behind the tinted windows. They’d be onto him in seconds.

John heaves a deep sigh and gets in.

Please don't leave us hanging here for long! This is really good and I can't wait to find out what happens next.

Myc, be nice, please!!! But he knows, doesn't he? I hope Mycroft cares and talks some sense into John!!!

OP is very pleased thus far, thank you so much for filling! I really like the approach you've taken and look forward to seeing where you go from here!

Thank you, OP, that's good to hear! I hope to have the last part up soon.

Can we have the last part, pretty please with sugar on top?

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