I do not own this show at all. Now that that is out of the way please enjoy the story.

John leaned back on the thin mattress beginning to understand why Sherlock had shot at the walls out of pure boredom. He was beginning to go a little stir crazy himself, being stuck in this dull place without Sherlock's antics to distract him from the horrors of his own mind. Writing in his journal was the one thing he had at the moment to occupy himself and looking at it after he'd finished writing always left him feeling uneasy. It forced him to look at the notes Dr. Thompson had left behind for him, the man's attempt at dissecting his memories and revealing them to be a fabrication. He wrote with graceful precise writing that did not fit in amongst his messy sprawl and the blue ink further cementing the differences. He'd even pointed out the flaws in his drawings of the flat, the cases, and Sherlock pointing out all the inconsistencies.

The worst thing wasn't the strange writing but the repetition of a phrase he was really beginning to hate. 'If Sherlock is real why hasn't he rescued you yet?' It was Dr. Thomson's new favorite question and it screamed at him from the pages of his journal. He scowled halfway tempted to tear out everything but the blank pages and start fresh. This wasn't working and it certainly wasn't worth the doubt stalking his thoughts. He knew with all the certainty that the sky was blue that Sherlock Holmes was real. But that question was one that set traps for his belief, because Sherlock should have rescued him by now. That if was beginning to make him falter because he knew that he should be out in the real world now. He should be in danger, he should be running for his life, he should be so alive that it hurt even thinking he could be tied down. That should be was quickly becoming a dangerous thought.

There was a knock on the door and he sighed setting down his journal. It must be time for breakfast, he thought as he stood and straightened out the ugly grey jumpsuit he was wearing. He stood and walked out into the hall where a nurse was waiting to escort him to breakfast. He glanced at the nurse taking in the pale blonde shade of her hair and the bright blue of her eyes. He hadn't seen her before and since none of the nurses liked to deal with him he'd seen them all at one point or another. She smiled at him with a kind of knowing air that would have made him annoyed if he wasn't already so used to seeing it.

"You must be new." He said as he walked out into the hallway.

"Not as new as you'd think I've worked here for about three months now. You haven't seen me yet because they needed to be sure I could handle the more dangerous patients." The woman said her lips still holding that knowing curve, but unlike most of the people who worked here the look fit well on her face.

"And do you think I'm dangerous?" John smiled impishly as he walked beside her.

"I know you are." She said her smile gaining a sharp edge. "But then again I've read your blog."

John sighed heavily feeling any sort of fondness she had begun to inspire in him falter. "You've read my files then."

"Of course I have, company policy and all that." She said with a roll of her eyes. "Personally I'm surprised you don't know about that."

John sighed his lips pinched together like he'd just swallowed a lemon. "No I know you're hardly the first to mention the blog."

"Or Sherlock Holmes? I've seen the pictures and I've even met him in person I can see why you like him. He's got a very distinct look doesn't he." She said with a conspiratorial wink.

"And you've read my journal too." He said the words sitting heavily in his lungs. He really should stop thinking of these people as anything but the enemy.

"No I haven't read your journal but I did read your blog and I have met Sherlock." She said softly keeping her voice low.

John glared at her from the corner of his eye as he clenched his fists. "Did Dr. Thompson send you to test me or something?"

She shook her head. "No, I'm here for reasons all my own. I'm actually here for you."

"Who are you?" John asked as he whirled on her a dangerous tone forming in his voice.

"I suppose you can call me Mary, Mary Morstan and we are going to get you out of here." The nurse said her voice softening as she placed her hand on his shoulder. It was the most human contact he'd had in a while and in all honesty it was far more convincing than her words had been.

"Why are you doing this? Everyone else here wants me to believe my life on Baker Street is just a hallucination. That everything I did and everyone I met and my best friend were all just my minds sick way of dealing with trauma." John hissed keeping his voice low in case the walls had ears.

"I could say it was out of the goodness of my heart but it's not. I've made a lot of mistakes in my life and my reasons for saving you are completely selfish. I managed to get on the bad side of a man I fear and I do not fear many men. I contemplated killing him but he has information about me, dangerous information, and I don't know who else he's told. This man however holds many powerful men in his pockets and he has eyes everywhere. Sherlock Holmes can help me, but he refuses to take any cases until he finds you. His brother hid your disappearance from him but I have a few friends who are in his employ. One of them knew where you were taken." She said her voice holding the tone of blunt honesty but John wasn't sure it was genuine.

John sighed grabbing the bridge of his nose. "So if you are telling the truth and you are here to break me out do you know why they're doing this?"

She shook her head. "Not a clue but we can find out. So do you trust me?"

John frowned. "I don't trust people easily, but if I stay here much longer I really will lose my mind."

"The oatmeal here will do that." She said and it was enough to startle a burst of laughter out of John.

"I think they make it with paste." John whispered and they both laughed.

"I've already got a plan to get us out of here." She turned toward him. "Can you stand three more weeks of therapy?"

John nodded his head. "I can try."

"Good. I'll keep in contact." She said stopping just in front of the double doors that led to the mess hall.

They walked into the mess going their separate ways. Mary went over to the private nurses room disappearing through the door and John got in the line. he went through the motions like always. He kept his head down and resolved to stay out of trouble until it was time to perform the escape, that is if Mary was telling the truth.

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