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It had been four days since Sherlock rescued John and he was alarmed to note there has been little improvement in the electricity Magi. John could still barely move and there was still no sign of his sight returning. All he seemed to do anymore was lie in bed and stare at a ceiling he was no longer able to see.
He was lying in bed now in fact, while Sherlock sat in the living room with his head in his hands. He had told Mycroft everything that had happened and was praying his older brother might be able to come up with a helpful suggestion. With Hiashi dead there were no true healers left in the world anymore. "I don't know what to do, Mycroft. I've tried and tried but it's like he's given up." Sherlock cried, barely able to stop himself from bursting into tears.
Mycroft reached out to place a comforting hand on Sherlock's shoulder. "Have you tried consulting other electricity Magi? They might be able to help with some of his injuries; maybe with the swelling around his wrists." He said gently. He hated feeling so helpless. He had been shocked when Sherlock had turned up on the doorstep of Baker Street with a bleeding John in his arms. Even now the memory of it was enough to make him feel sick. He couldn't believe anybody would do such a thing to John. The thought made his blood boil and tendrils of ivy burst from the floor around him.
Sherlock jumped when one of the tendrils brushed against him and he looked up, finally seeming to notice his surroundings. Up to now he had appeared to be in a daze, still struggling to come to terms with what had happened. "But it won't bring back his eyesight." He murmured in a hollow sounding, almost broken voice. "How on earth do you cope with something like that, Mike?"
Now that was a nickname Mycroft had not heard since they were children and it made him realise just how much Sherlock was hurting. His heart went out to his little brother. With shaking hands he pulled his brother into a tight hug. "We'll cope with it together, brother mine- you, me and Greg." He said, turning to smile at Greg who was standing uncertaintly in the corner of the room.
Upon hearing his name Greg slowly walked over and slumped down in Mycroft's recently vacated chair. He looked awful and had dark shadows beneath his eyes as though he hadn't slept in weeks. In truth he felt partially responsible for John's abduction. The Metropolitan Police had known electricity Magi were going missing and Greg felt terrible for not placing an extra guard on John. And now... he could barely bring himself to dwell on it. It was painful to even be in the same room with Sherlock and having to bear witness to his pain. Trying to be as silent as possible he stood and made his way towards the room where John was lying on the bed. When he got there he hovered in the doorway and simply watched the electricity Magi for a moment, unsure whether he should say anything or not.
At least John looked a little pinker than before, even if his wounds still looked pretty bad. The worst thing though was the loss of his sight. Nobody was entirely certain why it had happened and the general assumption between Greg and Mycroft was that it had been caused by so much of John's energy being drained. They both hoped it would start to get better as he recovered.
Greg's chain of thought was broken when he noticed that John was looking at him- and not with the usual blank stare that always seemed so unsettling. It definitly looked like John was actually focusing on him. But that couldn't be possible- could it? He swallowed hard, hardly daring to believe it was true. Greg knew he needed to find out for certain before he let Sherlock know. He didn't think the earth Magi could survive another blow.
A weak but unmistakable smile spread across John's face. "Greg, is that you? You're all blurry around the edges still." He said in a voice that was hoarse from so much screaming for so long.
Greg's heart skipped a beat as, despite telling himself not to get his hopes up, joy rose within him. "You can see me?" He asked hesitantly, still not believing it wasn't a cruel trick being played by the universe.
"I can." John said quietly, a tear dripping down his cheek as the realisation struck him full force, "I really can! I don't believe it!"
That was all Greg needed. With a loud cry he spun round and called out down the corridor, "Sherlock! Sherlock, come quickly! You have to see this!"
Within seconds, out of breath from having run so fast, Sherlck burst into the room. "What is it? What's wrong?" Sherlock cried, his eyes wide and frantic as he immediatly assumed the worst. He froze when he noticed John watching him. A tentative smile spread across his face. "How is this possible?" He breathed, sitting on the bed and reaching down at caress John's cheek. "I-I don't..."
Feeling as though he was intruding Greg quietly made his way from the room, glancing back to see Sherlock and John hugging one another tightly. He felt terrible for being the cause of so much distress but he was glad there was a silver lining to the darkness. He would never have forgiven himself if John had been permantly damaged. From now on, he vowed to himself, he wouldn't let any of them out of his sight. The four of them had already been through enough and it was time they had some peace and quiet.