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Sherlock was on the mend and it’s past time that we left him alone but for now we are trying not to. And doing something was helping me. A little. Against the guilt, against the rage that still possessed me sometimes.
I was in the living room when I heard the first sound since Molly left. A cry… that quickly changed to a real screech.
I opened the bedroom door to look at the tormented man. I’ve seen him having nightmares, this is not new. I don’t really know what he went through but I know it wasn’t a bloody holiday!
A year ago, when I slept here following a case, I heard him scream in terror in a Slavic language…
I’ve seen how hollow he is sometimes when nobody is looking…
And I know that I let him down when he needed me the most. Now it’s time to redeem myself, even if it’s hard.
I simply sit at the edge of the bed, trying to calm him… Saying that he was safe at home… With me… After another blood chilling screech, Sherlock mutters while unconsciously protecting himself. “NO.. JOHN! WHY... NO!”
I exit the room disgusted by myself.
Whatever happened when he was away is no longer the reason for his nightmares…
I am the new monster to blame.