LXIV • 64

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Sherlock's POV:

It had been another two days and I was more uneasy than ever. I could hardly sleep, and what little I got was restless, interrupted with nightmares and pain. I just wanted to escape this whitewashed prison, but I thought of John and the promise I'd made him.
I'd take care of myself, I wouldn't do anything stupid.

It was early afternoon on the fourth day when a doctor that I had not yet seen entered the room and performed a routine check.
He listened to my heart, checked my breathing, then inspected my wound.
After a few moments he looked up and smiled. "You've made a full recovery, Mr. Holmes. You'll be discharged in about an hour." He became serious once again. "Despite your impressive recovery, I expect you to take it easy. No more physical stress than absolutely necessary, and you should keep the external wound clean and bandaged. I've prescribed painkillers that will last for several days, for use twice daily."
"Okay, thank you." I responded, although I hadn't really been listening.
"No physical stress." He looked at me pointedly, as though he knew I hadn't been paying much attention.
"I know, I know. Clean and bandaged too." I repeated his instructions.
He nodded once, then left the room.

Your POV:

Work.
You had to go back to work.
Your boss had been very lenient, so your position had not been filled by the time you got back.
You knew how to fake a smile and you could sham a cheery attitude, but you had no desire to interact with other human beings today. In fact, you hadn't since you'd woken up. You had no confidence left and you refused to trust anyone.
You simply weren't the same person and you feared you never would be again.

You put on a smile as you approached a table where a young couple was seated.
You felt your smile falter as you got closer. The man had dark curly hair and he was about nine inches taller than the girl sitting beside him. The similarities ended there but it had been enough to trigger one memory after another.
You turned away and headed back to the kitchen, asking your workmate to take that table for you.

Sherlock's POV:

I was finally out of that four day nightmare, but I was still a walking skeleton. It took immense self control not to just rush back home and see you. I knew it wouldn't go as smoothly as I imagined it. I'd have to imagine the worst case scenario in order to be at least a little bit pleasantly surprised. The worst case scenario was that you'd refuse to accept me back at all. That you'd alienate me.
I had to convince myself that that would actually happen.
When I'd been checked out, I'd asked them to send the bill to my home address- then deliberately given them Mycroft's- so I still had some cash.
I used it to buy a night at a cheap motel while I sorted things out.

John's POV:

I'd noticed your behaviour the last couple of days. It was like your reactive emotions triggered by Sherlock's death had begun again when you woke up. I didn't know if the coma had actually affected your brain or if it was just the shock of a close friend trying to kill you. That was worthy of tremendous amounts of shock, and it seemed that you had actually handled it very well.
But there was no way of knowing for sure. You didn't share everything with me anymore and you seemed distant.
I was contemplating what I should do about this, or if I should just leave it alone, when Sherlock texted me.

I'll be back in London tomorrow.

That was good. I sent a quick reply.

Are you going to tell her?

There was a brief interval, then,

Not yet.

I'd figured.
I called MacKenzie, a plan forming in my head, one that I hoped would be good for the both of you.

"Hey, Kenz, it's John." I said, when she picked up.
"Oh hi, what's up?"
I took a deep breath.
"Okay, so (F/N) hasn't really been herself since.. yeah, so could you just come pick her up for a few days? I think she needs to get out of London, stay with a friend. But if I tell her that, I don't think she'll do it."
I heard her chuckle on the other end.
"Yeah no problem. I got this."
"Thanks, you're a lifesaver."
"I endeavour to be so." She chuckled again.
I hung up with a smile.
If this worked, you'd be able to get away from the constant reminders of Sherlock, while he could prepare himself for coming back.
It would be a royal mess, I knew, but hopefully it wouldn't be disastrous.

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