The Blonde

Hallucinations and tea

The stairs proved to be the trickiest part. Sherlock insisted on going up himself, but after three attempts to put his foot on the bottom step, because he said his foot kept going through the wood, John wrapped his arm around Sherlock's waist and began guiding him up.

Lestrade received a convenient call on his radio and didn't stick around to help. John was pretty sure his sudden call had more to do with the fact that Sherlock patted his face three times when the inspector tried to help him out of the car. He said he was trying to work out where that green light surround Lestrade had come from.

"John," Sherlock said.

"Yes?" John asked, groaning out the s as his flatmate took that moment to lean toward him, nearly knocking them both back down the stairs.

"I have to tell you something."

"Can it wait? We're almost-"

"No, I have to do it now. It's important."

"Okay, what is it?"

"I know I haven't said it, but I've always thought it," Sherlock said, patting John's chest with his free hand and swaying in the process. He had to keep them from tumbling backwards again.

"What's that?" he asked, more focused on keeping them from going down the stairs than what his flatmate was saying.

They reached the top of the stairs. Rose was waiting with the door open.

"You-" Sherlock noticed her standing on the other side of the door. "The blonde." John was pretty sure Sherlock was aiming for his chest, but his flatmate wound up patting his face instead. "Look John it's the blonde."

"Yes. I can see that," John muttered in annoyance.

He had to get his friend into bed. Bed and something to help him sleep. The last thing he wanted to do was go through six hours of this.

"She appeared in our living room. Did you know that John?"

"Yes. I was there, remember?"

He tried to guide Sherlock to his room, but his flatmate was focused on Rose who appeared to be trying not to laugh and making a bad job of it.

"How did you do it?" he asked, walking toward her and dragging John along with him. "No," he waved his hand, making John sidestep to keep them both from falling, "don't tell me. I'll figure it out. I'm sure it has to do with…" he glanced around the room. "There's a way. There has to be. What if…?"

"I think it's time for bed," John said, hoping to distract his friend. When Sherlock started in on a mystery there was no stopping him.

"John," Sherlock insisted, giving John a shove that nearly sat him in the chair that they were standing next to. "Don't patronize me. I may have ingested Psilocybin, but my mind remains intact."

"That's up for debate," John muttered.

"YOU," he said, pointing at Rose with a slight sway, "are working for him aren't you?"

"Working for who?" she asked. Her smile slipped, but she looked more confused than anything else.

"Him, HIM!"

He crossed the room toward her. John could tell he was using most of his willpower to keep from staggering, which was pretty remarkable with what he ingested.

"I'm not working for anyone," she insisted, folding her arms across her chest.

"Don't lie to me!"

He waved his arm dramatically, swaying in the process.

"I'm not lying to you!"

"You're working for him! I know you are!" He began pacing, but slower than usual. "It's him. It's all about HIM! I know it's…" He stopped, his eyes darted to the kitchen. "What was that?"

John turned around.

"What was what?"

"Right there! In the kitchen!" He took a step and swayed, grabbing the back of his chair. "Can't you see it man?"

"I don't see anything," Rose said.

"It's right bloody there!"

"Sherlock, I don't see-"

"There! It…it's moving," he exclaimed.

"Moving?" John asked, glancing at his friend who was looking around the room wildly.

"It's HIM! He's here. Watching me. I know it's…THERE IN THE CORNER!"

The door flew open.

"Sherlock what the devil is all the noise about?" Mrs. Hudson demanded, stepping into the room.

"Mrs. Hudson!" Sherlock greeted, opening his arms and crossing the room. "Brilliant to see you." He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into a hug.

"What has gotten into you?"

"Cakes," he said, releasing her.

"Cakes?"

"Yes. Those lovely little cakes you make with tea sometimes. Do you have any?"

"No, I-"

"Oh, too bad. I was hoping-" His eyes fell on John. "John, what are you doing just standing there man? Mrs. Hudson has come for tea." He took a couple steps toward John and then swayed again.

John crossed the room. He'd had about enough of this. He needed to get his friend in bed before he started in about someone watching him again. "Come on now, Sherlock and we'll make Mrs. Hudson some tea."

"Don't be absurd, John. I don't make tea."

John led him into the kitchen.

"Well, then you can check the website on your laptop while I make the tea."

John led him into his room and deposited him on the bed.

"Has my bed always been this color?"

"I believe so. Yes. I'm just going to grab you some…" John stepped out of the room and hurried into the living room. "Mrs. Hudson. Do you have any sleeping pills?"

"What's wrong with him?"

"He…um…"

"Ate some bad mushrooms," Rose supplied.

"They must have been very bad."

"They were," John agreed. "The sleeping pills. Do you have any?"

"Yes, I'll just get them."

She walked out the door, but returned within minutes, handing John two pills. He took them and returned to the kitchen. After filling a cup with water he stepped back into Sherlock's room. His friend was still sitting in the same position, but he was staring at the back of his hand.

"I can see my skin breath, John." He waved his hand in John's face. "Can you see it?"

"No, I…um…brought you something."

He handed Sherlock the pills.

"Pills, John?"

"Yes."

He stared at the pills.

"Why?"

"They'll help."

"And I'm supposed to take them?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Because I'm your doctor and I'm telling you to."

"All right," Sherlock shrugged and then popped them in his mouth.

"I brought you…" John began, holding out the cup of water, but his friend had already swallowed them.

Sherlock eyed the cup.

"What's that?"

"Water."

"Why would I want water? Where's the tea? Weren't you making tea?"

"I'll put the kettle on."

"Yes. The kettle," he dismissed with a wave of his hand, but as John started out the door Sherlock called him back. "John."

"Yes?"

"I had something important to tell you."

"Can it wait?"

"No, I've got to tell you. It's too important to wait."

"What is it then?"

"It's about you and…I know I haven't said it before, but it's…difficult for me to say these things."

Difficult for him to? What was he trying to say?

"Yes?"

"I just wanted you to know. In case anything ever happens…" He flopped back in the bed.

"What is it?"

He turned his head and gazed at John.

"Tea John. You make brilliant tea."

He waited, but Sherlock didn't say anything else.

"Is that what you wanted to tell me? That I make brilliant tea?"

Sherlock didn't answer because he'd found something interesting about his side table. He began examining it, looking under it, touching the top of it. John shook his head and walked into the kitchen.

He filled the kettle, but as he set it on the stove a buzzing sound emanated from his pocket. He pulled his mobile out and read the text.

Are you with my brother?

MH

Mycroft? What did he want now? He always seemed to pick the worst time. John typed his reply.

Yes.

He turned the stove on. The buzzing came again.

Where are you?

"Is he going to be all right?"

John looked up. Rose was standing in the kitchen, concern evident in her expression. He still didn't have an answer as to why she was there in the first place, but she seemed nice. A bit odd, but after living with Sherlock odd was becoming his new normal.

"Yes. I believe so. He didn't ingest enough to be harmful, but until the sleeping pills kick in he's going to be…" He trailed off, nodding toward Sherlock's bedroom. His flatmate was clearly visible through the open door. He'd gotten down on the floor and was peering under his dresser. "A bit off."

John texted his response to Mycroft.

Home.

Rose laughed.

"What's he doing?" she asked.

"No idea," John replied, turning around to take down two cups.

His phone buzzed.

I'm sending a car.

MH

John sighed. Sherlock couldn't do anything for Mycroft in his condition.

Sherlock's indisposed.

"Who's that?" Rose asked.

"Oh, just…" The phone buzzed in his hands. "…Sherlock's brother."

Indisposed?

MH

"There's two of them?" she asked.

"He's his older brother."

He's ill.

"He's always doing this," John continued.

"Doing what?"

He opened the tea tin. The phone buzzed again.

Ill? Should I be worried?

MH

"Wanting something at the worst possible time."

"Tell him you can't do it."

John laughed at the idea.

"I doubt that would go over," he replied, texting Mycroft.

He'll be fine by tomorrow.

"I don't think he's going to be any help right now," Rose said, motioning to the open bedroom door where Sherlock appeared to be listening to his dresser as he had his ear up to the side of it.

The phone buzzed.

The car's on its way.

MH

"Looks like I'll be going in his place." John slid the phone back into his pocket. "Would you mind staying to keep an eye on him?"

"Of course I will."

John walked into the living room and slid into his jacket.

"The sleeping pills should kick in soon. Until then just-"

"Keep an eye on him and don't let him leave. I know. It's nothing I haven't dealt with before."

John paused, eyeing her in confusion.

"What do you mean?"

"I had this friend. He used to get himself into trouble like that all the time."

She gave him a smile which he returned. Her friend sounded a bit like his.

"I'm not sure how long I'll be…"

His meetings with Mycroft usually didn't take too long, but he never knew what was going to happen when he met with Sherlock's brother.

"It's fine. I can sleep on the sofa if I get tired."

It sounded as if she didn't have anywhere to be, which seemed strange. Didn't she have family waiting on her? She might live alone.

"Okay, good, there's some spare blankets and a pillow in my closet," he said, gesturing toward his room. "I won't be too long if I can help it."

"Don't worry. We'll be fine. Like you said, he'll fall asleep soon."

John hesitated a moment after opening the door. His phone buzzed again. It was probably Mycroft letting him know the car arrived.

"Alright, then," he said stepping out the door and closing it behind.

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