Glass

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POV: Sherlock

Someone shifts behind me, John. He stands in the doorway, watching me cautiously. I grab another glass, not looking back at John as I chuck it at the wall.

"Sherlock?"

I throw some more of the glassware at the wall, ignoring him.

"What are you doing?"

He stops asking me questions after about ten minutes of no answer. I disk a plate at the wall, watching it shatter. The shards fall into the collecting pile at the base of the wall, clinkling softly. Something about shattering things helps calm me down, soon my stack of dishes is reduced to a few items. I can feel Johns eyes on my back, watching my every move. When I have shattered the last glass, I move on to the stack of plates on my right side. The sound of the plates, made of a different glass as the cups, against the wall is a different clattering. The shards are larger, not breaking as easily as the wine glasses. My stack is gone in a blink, plates joining the glass shards that litter the floor. I move to jump off the counter and feel someone's arms wrapping around my waist, pulling me off sideways.

"You can't jump down into that."

John pulls me to the couch, making me lie down and covering me with a blanket. He holds out his arms to me once my breathing evens out, letting me lie in his lap. I fall asleep slowly, John stroking my hair. He shifts sometime in the night, waking me again. I get up, walking into the kitchen and hopping back onto the counter. Mycroft hasnt taken the kitchen knives out yet, so I grab the block and set it beside me. I pull one, blade between my fingers, and burry it in the wall. Mrs. Hudson is going to be pissed that I wrecked the flat again, especialy the walls. I throw all of the knives into the wall, walking through the glass to pull them back out.

"Sherlock?"

John walks in the third time I get up to pull the knives free of the wall, wincing as he watches me walk over the glass.

"You shouldn't do that Sherlock."

He doesn't stop me though, so I continue throwing them. I can feel myself start to limp slightly by the sixth walk, John drags me out after I fall during the seventh.

"Let me see it."

I shove away from him, hopping back on the counter. He pulls my arms away from my sides, plucking out the glass that is embedded in my palms.

"I'm not going to be able to pull all of it out Sherlock. We need to take you into the hospital."

"No."

"Dont be stubborn, we need to get this out."

"I'm not going to the hospital with you."

After a few minutes, I speak again.

"Or him."

Almost an afterthought. I'm not going with either one of them, I don't trust that I will come back out.

"Stay here and dont move. Ill be right back."

He jogs down the stairs, shoes clicking on the hardwood. Mycroft and Mrs. Hudson come back with him, Mycroft and John hold back as Mrs. Hudson walks right over and takes my hands in hers.

"You need to listen to John, Sherlock. He's right, we can't treat this here."

"I'm not going with them."

"Sherlock, you need treatment."

"Only if you come with us. And I'm not staying overnight."

She relents eventually, telling Mycroft to get his keys. Mycroft comes back minutes later, pulling me off the counter. I reluctantly let him carry me out, sliding into the back seat. John runs out of the flat, a bundle of clothes in his arms.

"Put this on Sherlock, its freezing out."

He tosses me my coat and scarf, slipping into the car beside me. Mrs. Hudson, true to her word, slips into the passenger seat. John pulls me to his side, draping my coat over me and tying my scarf loosely round my neck.

"Are you cold?"

"What?"

"You're shaking. Are you cold?"

"No."

He hugs me tighter to his side, rubbing his hands on my back.

"We're not letting you stay overnight Sherlock, I promise."

"He wants to stick me in an institution again."

Mycroft looks at us in the mirror, turning away when I make eye contact. We pull up to the front, waiting as Mycroft hops out of the car to go check me in. I open the door and try to stand, but John pulls me back down before I can put weight on my feet.

"No Sherlock."

Mrs. Hudson and John help me out and into the wheelchair one of the nurses brings out for me. They take me inside, stopping when I push myself up and out of the chair.

"Sit down Sherlock."

I ignore Mycroft and stand, leaning against the wall for balance. Mrs. Hudson tries to pull me back, stepping away when I snap at her. I finally sit back down when John grabs onto my arm, gently dragging me back towards the chair. I let him pull me off the wall, dropping back down when my legs hit the back of the wheelchair. The nurse walks me back, telling the three of them to wait outside in the waiting room. I stand up again, both of us yelling at each other. I'm not going back without them, all three of them. She is trying to push me back into the chair, finally letting everyone back with us. John forces me to sit back down, holding my hand as we get into a room. Him and Mycroft help me up to the bed, making sure I keep off of my feet as much as possible. John hops up beside me when I tug on his hand, pulling my head against his chest. I swing my feet around, ignoring the sharp pain that runs through my legs when they hit the table. Johns hand on my knee stills this movement and we sit still until the doctor comes in.

"What exactly happened to you?"

I dont respond, yawning instead.

"He accidentaly walked through some broken glass."

The doctor looks suspiciously at John and back to me again.

"How many times?"

"I lost count."

"Why did he walk through it barefoot?"

Mycroft pulls the doctor out of the room, sending panic through my body. Hes going to let them keep me. John senses my discomfort, wrapping his arms around me tightly as my breath picks up.

"You're okay."

He is murmuring soothing words in my ear, trying to reassure both of us. Mrs. Hudson sits worredly in the chair beside the bed, silently observing everything. The door opens and I jump back, scrambling further onto the bed. John grabs me before I hit the wall, pulling me back to the edge.

"Its okay. Ive got you Sherlock. Come here."

I press against him, shaking as he hugs me. Mycroft keeps his distance from me, watching closely as the doctor inspects my wounds. His gloves are covered in blood by the time he is finished pulling the glass from the surface. A needle is pulled, probably something for pain. My hands are shaking again, John lets me pull away to shove them in my pockets. He finishes rather quickly, bandaging my feet once he is done. I look over, seeing a pile of small glass slivers on the tray.

"You can go home tonight, I'm giving you some medications for the pain."

John and Mycroft share a look when he says this, both clearly worried. Mrs. Hudson looks worried as well, apparently fully informed by now. They wheel me back out, I'm not allowed to walk for two days. John helps me into the car, both of us passing out as soon as the door closes.

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