dreamnet | [Video] 001

[The camera feed kicks on to the familiar sight of replica 221B Bakerstreet- not so familiar, however, is the crew-cut blonde ex-soldier wandering aimlessly between checking the window, and trying to look composed.

John Watson has no idea what is going on.

His day started normal enough. He walked into the living room, went to grab his favorite mug, thought to check the weather-- and couldn't help but notice London was gone. As this was more than a bit not good; the man could now be seen muttering tersely beneath his breath, seemingly oblivious to the recording device on the adjacent table.]

Okay, John Watson, think...

[Had the lab in Baskerville triggered something? Even if an episode with this sort of effect was seldom heard of, random bouts of amnesia did not speak well for the sanity of a war veteran who supposedly had PTSD. Hmm... Well, if he is losing his mind, the best reaction will be to not react at all. Yes. He just has to wait this out; have a lie down in his chair. Resolutely, the doctor straightens his shoulders.

At last John's eyes narrow at the sight of the dreamberry. Hello Somarium.]

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Three.

[And here he'd been griping about eight months! For the first time since arriving, John looks, really looks at the detective in front of him. A lot of... subtleties had been present but John had mostly attributed that to his flatmate's poorly health; now he's not so sure. He shrugs.]

Good to know we live that long. I've had my doubts, honestly.

[If John looks carefully, beyond the recent bruises and other injuries, he will probably notice older injuries. Two of those three years were rough on Sherlock.]

Good. Those instincts will hopefully keep both of us alive in this place.

[He looks around.]

What are the chances of my getting out of here?

Well, that depends.

[John follows Sherlock's glance as well, before returning.]

It sounds like you've been denying treatment.

[Sherlock just offers a glare.]

If you mean I refuse to be treated with "magic" or "artes" or whatever they want to call it, then of course I have!

[John nods; as much as he would like to, he can't say he completely disagrees.]

Okay, but could you at least try to cooperate with them? Just undergo the minimum of something?

[John glances to the door, and lowers his voice.]

I don't know what their procedures are here, but I don't think they're going to think you've miraculously healed, just because I've shown up.

[Sherlock wishes John would lean forward, so he can swat the back of his head.]

Don't be an idiot. I'm well enough that you can care for me at Baker Street. And since there was a version of you here before, they'll probably allow it.

You're well enough to argue, I'll give you that.

[John sighs, looking him over. The doctor in him doubts someone with a punctured lung can just walk home in this condition, the sane part of him knows doing so is a bad idea, but the last part of him, the part that is John, Sherlock's friend, that part knows this stubborn, utterly ridiculous prat of a flatmate won't recover if he stays here. As always, it wins out.]

I'll have a word-- but if you get worse, I am asking someone to come round, and you will let them help you. I want your word on that, Sherlock.

You'll need all my files too.

[Which is his way of agreeing. But he looks at John and sighs.]

Fine. If I get worse. Only if I get worse.

If you get worse.

[John confirms, tilting his head in agreement. That is word enough.
Back to Bakerstreet, Sherlock Holmes.]

And I'm not about to let that happen.

Good.

[Sherlock is already feeling better. Probably more from John's presence than the little bit of morphine he had been given. Not that he'd ever admit to that.]

Not quite the welcome I had in mind for your return... Sorry.

Sorry? Heh. Now I know I'm in another world.

[John shakes his head. Since when could he get Sherlock to apologize for anything?]

Could have done without a bit of the running, but I will say it caught me up fairly quick, this way. It's fine.

[Since Sherlock spent two years away, but John can't know that.]

Oh please, the running is what you love best.

I do, on occasion, like to be filled in a bit more first.

[But judging his laughter, he can't argue there.]

[That was a different reaction. Sherlock MIGHT have flinched slightly - hardly noticeable. And only because last time Sherlock said something similar, John head-butted him.]

We'll need to confiscate a push-chair. And Bart's is closer to Baker Street, should anything happen.

[John raises an eyebrow. Yeah, yeah, don't read too much into it. It's laughter borne from the relief of there finally being some normalcy today. Besides, you get a free pass with your hospitalization.]

Bart's is also completely empty. I'm not actually sure it's running, Sherlock. We'd be better off taking you back here.

[...Though, having supplies is handy, he supposes.]

I'll ask for a pushchair. Think I've confiscated enough things today.

I don't care what you do as long as it gets me out of here.

[Does John really want to wish for normal?]

[Video] 001

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Clearly John underestimates his healing powers

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