Code Name : Chaos (A BBC Sherlock Fanfiction)

VIII : 3 months later (John)

I sighed as I put the kettle to boil. It'd been 3 months since Honduras. Sara had been pardoned. She'd moved into 221C. Sherlock on the other hand....Sherlock was a shell of his former self. He'd demanded we leave Honduras without the slightest explanation, then, he refused to take on any cases. He was smoking again and was back on the drugs. He spent one week in jail, because the police found drugs in his bedroom. Eventually Mycroft pulled some strings to get him out, but there was no doubt about it. Sherlock was locked into a downwards spiral. I was interrupted from my thoughts by the door opening to reveal Sherlock. He was a complete mess. His hair was lank and unruly, his chin was covered by a telltale stubble and he wore a filthy t-shirt and sweatpants. He staggered towards his room in a daze. "Sherlock-" I tried to get through to him, but like always he slammed the door, cutting me off. I sighed. Pouring the hot water into a cup, I took my tea and sat down. It was pouring with rain outside and Sherlock had left muddy footprints all around the house. I sighed in annoyance. Suddenly door opened. I turned around. Mycroft stood in the doorway looking around in disdain. "What are you doing here ?" I asked. He grimaced "I have come to collect my brother." I stared at him, puzzled. "Sherlock ? Why ?" He sighed "After careful deliberation I have decided to put him in rehab. It is the only way for him to recover." I gaped at him "Mycroft y-you can't" I stuttered. He merely raised an eyebrow "I can and I will Dr Watson." He said. He then strode past me into Sherlock's room, ignoring my many protests. 2 minutes later he strode out of the room again, dragging a dazed Sherlock from his room. It was a strange image, disturbing his  cool and collected façade. "Mycroft. Please. Just give me a week. I'll help him." I begged. He gave be a sorrowful look. "I really am sorry." He said "But my brother doesn't need helping. He needs fixing." At this, I snapped "You are a stone cold monster." I yelled "Sherlock isn't just some machine for you to fix. He's a living, breathing human being." Mycroft have me a frosty glare and slammed the door, dragging Sherlock behind him. I punched the door in anger. I exhaled slowly and calmed myself. Sighing I went into Sherlock's room. Then promptly walked out. The room smelled rank, and clothes were strewn across the floor. It could've passed for a rubbish tip. Sighing, I began to clean. A minute later, I heard Mrs Hudson come in "I heard a lot of noise." She said. "Is every alright ?" I sighed. "He took Sherlock." I said. Mrs Hudson looked confused "Who took him dear ?" I asked. "Mycroft." I spat bitterly. She paused "Oh dear." She cried, leaning into me as I hugged her. "Don't worry." I murmured "We'll get him back."
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I woke up on Sherlock's bedroom's floor. The room was clean, except for a blanket carelessly chucked over me. I walked out of the room, confused to see Sara reading a book in my chair, her hair disguising her face. I cleared my throat. She looked up at me and smiled "Good Morning. I found you passed out in Sherlock's room." She said with a grin. I smiled, then frowned as last night came back to me. "Sherlock's in rehab." I said emotionlessly. Sara's smile disappeared "W-what ?" She stuttered. I nodded. "Mycroft took him last night." I said gravely. "John I-I'm so sorry." She said. She wouldn't really understand I thought. After all, Sara had only really gotten to know him for a day or two in Honduras, he had ignored everyone when we came back to London. I forced a smile into my face. "Still." I said "At least he'll get help." I said. Sara said nothing, instead walking over to give me a hug.  Instantly, I was calmed. Burying my face in her tousled hair, I whispered a "Thank you." Into her hair.

AN : Sorry for the long wait!