#email continue

You: Maybe he shouldn't have asked for the blanket, Sherlock was taking a while to reply and it made him anxious. Shit, he didn't want to make him angry. He was probably going to say no. He chewed on his lip and curled in tighter, maybe it would be better to just die here.. he wondered if Sherlock would even care. He didn't even know what the other man was thinking, he could no longer read him and everything he had previously said all felt like a lie. He had cried too much about the past while being here, he had gone through every emotion and now he just felt numb. He gripped at his trousers and then at his jumper, as if that would help the cold or all these feelings at all but they did. He felt so scared and unsure about how he could get out. He didn't know what he could do to escape and that hurt. He hated all of this, he hated Sherlock more than anything. He wanted to hurt him like he had been hurt, he wished he could just grab him and hit him until he felt better. But he knew that Sherlock wouldn't come anywhere near him, he was never going to be let out, he desperately needed a shower too but ther was no chance of that. Finally, his phone lit up in light of a message and he took in a breathe of relief as Sherlock had agreed to give him one. Thank you, thank you. I really appreciate it. I'm so cold, I can't feel my feet right now. JW

Stranger: Sympathy. Was that what John was trying to get from him now? It had to be, otherwise he wouldn't be complaining about just how cold he really was. Sherlock hated him for such a poor excuse of trying to get him to crack. He hated him even more for the fact that it might actually be /working/ too. He'd known for a while he had gotten too close to Doctor Watson, but this was simply ridiculous. Why should he care just how cold John was? The basic necessities. That was all that John needed. No, that was all that John deserved for that little stunt he pulled. Sherlock couldn't help but wonder if John was doing this to him on purpose. Surely he had to know the effect that he had on him, and here he was trying to take advantage of it! It was like he was taunting him with yet another reminder that not only was he not able to kill him, but he could barely keep him properly kidnapped either. He was half tempted to retract the offer of the blanket just out of spite but eventually thought better of it. Instead, despite his better judgement, Sherlock found himself replying with perhaps the very worst thing he could possibly say to John at the moment. He could barely even type the message out, deleting it only to retype it again several times until finally he forced himself to settle on sending it to him. What else do you need? SH

You: John didn't really know what he was doing, he barely even knew what he was thinking these days, his head was spinning and all he knew is that he wanted to get out of here. He wanted to stop thinking too, he wanted to stop caring about what Sherlock felt and what Sherlock wanted. He had seen the man cutting someone up in their living room, how could he still care about this man? But yet, he couldn't stop it. He wondered if Sherlock felt the same way towards him. The text that he recieved seemed to suggest that maybe Sherlock did feel the same, that he did care.. It took him back a little and he rested his head against the wall as he thought about what he needed. He had a long list of things that he needed but he didn't dare say all of them because he knew it would make Sherlock angry and in order to stay alive, the situation needed to be calm. He no longer knew what Sherlock was capable of. He hadn't even seen the other for a whole month, the image of him was starting to fade a little, it was concerning. A shower? A change of clothes? Some company.. anything. JW

Stranger: Although he hated to admit it, Sherlock felt a rush of anxiety as he waited impatiently for John's response. It had been a ridiculous thing to ask of him and he'd known of it. What did he think he was doing, asking John what he needed? John should just be happy with whatever he was given and grateful that Sherlock was letting him live for now. Honestly, did he even know how much trouble it was keeping him alive? He had to fabricate everything perfectly so that no one would suspect anything amiss with him. Not to mention the fact that he had to keep anyone from going anywhere near 221C, which wasn't particularly difficult to do, but he had been nearly caught going there on at least two separate occasions by Mrs. Hudson. Being this careful was...annoying, to say the very least about it. But he'd convinced himself that it was worth it to keep John alive for the moment. When John finally did reply to him he could feel his heart skip a beat in his chest and he forced himself to swallow down a heavy lump that had formed in his throat. Showers were certainly out of the question, but perhaps he might be able to arrange for a bath if he brought down enough water...though that could only be done while Mrs. Hudson was away, of course. He made a mental note to work out the details for that later...it was a privilege he could consider giving John, at least. A change of clothes could be fairly easily done, even if it wasn't strictly necessary. Possibly once every week or two. But company...? Well. That was what was really sending Sherlock's heart racing. Did John know just how much Sherlock wanted to see him again? Surely he couldn't possibly feel the same way. No. More than likely it was just a plan for escape...but even so, Sherlock found himself struggling to resist the temptation to see him and speak to him face to face again. It was enough to make Sherlock chew his lip in thought, though eventually thought it best to just ignore that request outright for the time being. No showers. Changes of clothes can be provided periodically. SH

You: The reply wasn't reassuring, it had ignored the part at the end.. he was desperate for someone to touch him and that was the worst part. He wanted to be held, to be comforted, he had never gone this long without just seeing someone or touching someone. It was hard, he had always been someone who needed company and to be stripped from it completely was painful. He forced himself up from where he was sittjng and paced the room a little, his hands constantly scratching at his skin and going up to his hair. He had almost forgotten about the text until he saw his phone and he knelt down to grab it again. Okay, thank you. JW He sent the text before he sat back on the floor and tried to think. He just wanted to see Sherlock again, he wasn't even thinking about escaping anymore, his brain had apparently gone of on a completely different tangent that he was no longer in control of. It was one that was scary and strange. Why was he doing this? Why did he want to see Sherlock? The man who was a murderer and a liar and everyhing he hated. But yet, all he could think about was Sherlock coming down here and wrapping his arms around him. He chewed on his lip as he wrote out the text, a stream of thoughts just being typed out and being sent without thinking. I'm just lonely. Incredibly lonely and it hurts. I haven't seen anyone for a month, not even you, just want to see your face. I think I'm forgetting how you look. I just want to be touched, I am going insane I swear. JW

Stranger: For several minutes, Sherlock let himself relax with the belief that this would be the end of that particular conversation and that John wouldn't try to push him any further than he already had. It would certainly be the smartest thing to do in John's situation, Sherlock thought. But then again, he could never trust John to make the most logical decision. He'd always been a man to let his emotions take hold over logic, something that Sherlock hated equally as much as he admired about him. He'd never anticipated, however, that this would rub off on him. But as he sat there aching to see John once again he couldn't help but come to the conclusion that John had had more of an effect on him than he'd realized. By the time that John did reply Sherlock had just been about to get to work on his latest experiment - unable to help but hear John's voice scold him for leaving body parts in the fridge. Again. But Sherlock was surprisingly quick to drop what he was doing to read what John had to say, and almost instantly regretting doing so. His breath hitched in his throat as he reread the message several times to himself as though searching for any hidden meaning within it. Surely...surely John couldn't be asking him to visit just because he was /lonely/. He must have ulterior motives. Yes, of course he did. And yet, Sherlock couldn't seem to find himself able to care about that. The idea of seeing John again...the idea that John was asking specifically to see /him/ again sparked a certain warmth in his chest that refused to die out. Maybe...was it possible that John really did care? That he truly did just want to see him again? It wouldn't be the first time that John had surprised him, but he had to admit that the odds were unlikely at best. Impossible, even. And yet, here he was, unable to stop himself from practically pouring his heart out to John. It's been lonely here without you too, John. I've missed you. But you know I had to do this after what you did. SH

You: Sherlock missed him, Sherlock was lonely too. He could barely breathe for a moment as he continued to pace, clutching the phone in his hand as he tried to stay warm just by walking the room. It wasn't really working and he was looking forward to getting that blanket. He needed it. The last part of the text was playing in his mind too, he hadn't done anything, it wasn't his fault that he had come home early from work that day. He hadn't felt great and Sarah suggested that he went home and had a lie down. It was a massive mistake, everything would be different if he had just stayed at work that day. He could work with this though, he could get Sherlock down here and into his arms if he tried harder, if he begged more. He wasn't ashamed of it, he wasn't ashamed of his feelings or his emotions, especially not now. He knew that they would haunt him and come to constantly fight with him. He was going to let them win this time, so maybe Sherlock would just come and sit with him, talk with him, would that be enough? Would that help? What the hell was he thinking? He wanted to throw the phone across the room and watch as it smashed into pieces but then he would have nothing. I know and I'm sorry. I'm sorry I walked in on you.. I wish I never had. I wish I could turn back time. I just need.. to talk, to be with someone, I can barely feel anything anymore. JW

Stranger: There was no denying that Sherlock couldn't let John go now, not after everything he'd seen. But that didn't mean he couldn't be tempted to forgive the man for his mistakes. It shouldn't be so easy, Sherlock knew. The effect that John had on him was one that was thoroughly unfair. Just a few simple words of apology and he was tempted to rush into his arms and forgive him for everything he had done and all the pain that he'd caused him over this past month. Somehow, there was absolutely nothing he wanted more than to forgive John and assure him that it was alright. Not that it would change anything about his current situation, of course, but perhaps it could relieve some of the guilt John had to be feeling about walking in on him like he had. I know you are. SH Sherlock paused for a moment, considering his next response to him carefully. There was no doubt in his mind that he wanted to see John again and that John's request and apology was just the encouragement that he needed. Yes. Apologies and good behaviour and what not really ought to be rewarded, shouldn't they? And if company was what John was asking for...it wouldn't be so hard to give him that, would it? It couldn't hurt. Even if John tried to escape he was undoubtedly weak from cold and a little bit of hunger at this point. Sherlock would easily be able to overpower him if he had to. The only real trouble was coming up with a time when it would be safe to visit him. So long as Mrs. Hudson was out of her flat for the majority of the day and he didn't have a case, however, Sherlock supposed that it couldn't hurt to visit John for just a few minutes... We can talk the next time I bring you down some food and your blanket. SH

You: The response was far from unexpected and he found that his hand clasped at his mouth and a small sob left his lips. He was that desperate for something that he could barely even handle this, how would he cope when Sherlock actually came down and he could actually see him. He would be a mess, he curled back on the floor and tried to get himself back to some sort of calm, he needed to get a control of everything before Sherlock came down. Food and a blanket and Sherlock. Perfect. He grabbed his phone and smiled to himself as he wrote out a reply. Great, thank you. I really appreciate it, you have no idea. JW Placing the phone on the floor, he sighed a little and wiped his eyes again before he closed his eyes and moved to lie on the floor. It was hard and every bone in his body hurt from sleeping on the concrete floor but it was all he had, at least he would soon have a blanket to cover himself with too because the floor was even more cold. He shivered a little but tucked himself up as tightly as he could and tried to settle, he was apparently tired because he fell asleep before he could even think anymore.

Stranger: There were a number of things that Sherlock thought that John ought to appreciate, the fact that he was still alive being one of them considering the fact that it would be so much easier for Sherlock to just kill him. Yet, here he was, keeping John alive and making sure he was /comfortable/. Definitely something that John really ought to appreciate from him, but this was as good a place to start as any. Determined not to tell John anything more than he already had, Sherlock resolved to set his phone down and continue working on his latest experiment. Unfortunately, his thoughts were frequently distracted by images of John flashing through his mind. John, who just might be happy to see him as he came downstairs baring food and a blanket for him to sleep with. Maybe even two, if he was feeling generous. If this visit went well, he might even consider giving him something to do...a couple books to read to occupy his time, for example. There wasn't too much damage that John could do with books after all, apart from perhaps giving himself a papercut. But that really would depend on just how well his visit to see him went. He couldn't just give him such things for doing absolutely nothing, after all. He'd have to earn them from Sherlock, though Sherlock suspected that at the moment he seemed up for the task. John was still quite desperate right now, after all. If he wanted to make visits a regular occurrence he'd have to make a point of ensuring that John continued to stay that way. Best for him to think that he didn't stand much chance of escape - which he didn't, of course. Sherlock was still doing a perfectly good job making sure of that. Thoroughly distracted by his eager thoughts about seeing John again, his head swimming with ideas about what he'd say to him - and reminding himself not to be too harsh on him - Sherlock all too quickly abandoned his experiment on the kitchen counter and instead chose to pick up his violin for the first time since that fateful evening. It always had helped him think, after all, and he was certainly going to need all the help he could get with preparing what he'd say to John.

You: John slept for a while, he had lost all sense of time so he no longer knew when the right time was to sleep. He guessed that food came around abouts dinner time, so early to late evening but even then that was just a pure guess. Sherlock could easily be just giving him the food to have whenever regardless of time. But that's what he generally took as being evening so he would often eat and then sleep properly until he naturally woke, hoping that maybe his body was aware of the time more than him. He often had naps too, mostly because he had nothing else to do. He was tired a lot also, he guessed the lack of food didn't help and made his energy run extrememly low. His mood also wasn't great either which made him feel more exhausted. When he woke, his thoughts went straight to Sherlock and he realised that he had no idea what he was going to say. He felt worried about it suddenly. What could he say really? Maybe he would just let Sherlock take control of the situation, that seemed like the most ideal thing to do and therefore he couldn't take a step wrong. That was the last thing that he wanted to do. He didn't want to upset Sherlock or make him angry so he would le thte other lead. He paced the room a little, it had to be dinner time soon, his stomach was growling in hunger and he felt desperate as he waited. It felt like forever. Eventually, he curled back in the corner and tried to stop feeling so hungry and anxious, chewing the inside of his mouth till he tasted blood.

Stranger: Although Sherlock did make an effort to be consistent in regards to the time of day that he would give John his meals there were times when he would provide him with them earlier or later than usual. Given how eager Sherlock was to actually see John again, it was of no surprise that Sherlock decided that today he would bring food down to John earlier than usual. Not to mention the fact that it conveniently lined up with the time that Mrs. Hudson would go to visit Mrs. Turner today. So, it was only a little after midday that Sherlock found himself prepared with a plate of some leftovers of the food Mrs. Hudson had made for him yesterday and two blankets to bring downstairs. As eager as he was to see John, he couldn't deny that he was also just a little bit anxious...he had to be prepared for anything, after all seeing as John might react unpredictably to seeing him. But that was something to be worried about when the time came. For now, Sherlock just tried to remain excited about the fact that he'd be seeing John today. He'd even added a bit more than usual to John's plate of food for the special occasion, something which he hoped wouldn't slip past John's notice. Once he felt like he'd steadied his nerves enough, Sherlock began to make his way downstairs, keeping quiet out of habit. It was only out of politeness that Sherlock gave a small knock on the door before entering and quickly closing the door behind him. He blinked and squinted, his eyes taking a moment to adjust to the darkness in the room before his eyes fell upon John who had tucked himself away in a corner. All thoughts of what Sherlock wanted to say to him, everything that he had prepared seemed to vanish from his mind in an instant as his throat clenched at the sight of the man he had once called his friend in such a pathetic state. He did his best not to let his features betray any of his emotions, however, and instead hesitantly cleared his throat as he set down the plate of food, blankets, and change of clothes he had brought for him.

You: John heard the familar sounds of footsteps outside the door and his eyes opened wide. He stayed still though, almost like he was stuck to the floor. Instead of the food being pushed through the flap, the door open and he watched as Sherlock walked in. He stared at him, unable to even look away because this was real and Sherlock was here. He wanted to run into his arms, smell his shampoo and the shower gel that he knew so well. He wanted familairity and comfort, it was almost all a little overwhelming as he watched Sherlock. He knew he probably looked disgusting, his clothes were dirty and dusty from lying on the floor, his hair a mess and a lot of stubble on his face and he had already lost a lot of muscle, making him look more boney even under his usual jumper. He watched as Sherlock cleared his throat and set down the items, he didn't know what to do first, he just glanced across them all before he began to pull off his clothes. He didn' want to be in the dirty ones anymore now that Sherlock was here, why did he want to look nice for him? He pulled on the new clothes before he took the plate. "Thank you." He eventually managed to get out, his voice sounding odd as he realised he hadn't spoke out loud for a month. "Thank you, Sherlock, for coming here.." He added, he wanted to ask him to touch him, to hold him but instead he moved back against the wall and began to eat, noticing that there was a bit more food then usual and he looked up to smile at Sherlock. "It's good."

Stranger: The flat that he was keeping John in didn't offer much in the way of privacy - not that he really needed privacy since he was the only one here, of course - and so Sherlock did have the decency to cast his gaze elsewhere while John hastily changed out of his old clothes and into the new ones. That was just about the only time that Sherlock dared to look away from him, however. His gaze was quick to land back on him and follow his every move, equally as curious as he was suspicious about what John was planning on doing next. But now, John just seemed to be interested in eating....which he couldn't really blame him before considering the weight he had seemed to lose over the last month. Silently, Sherlock made a note to himself to try to feed John just a little bit more often than he was. A meal once a day when he could, at least. The genuine smile sent in his direction was enough to catch Sherlock's completely off guard. He blinked, unsure of what to say for a moment as he shifted his weight from one foot to the next, not particularly interested in sitting down on the floor. "Mrs. Hudson made a good supper last night" Sherlock agreed with a small nod of his head before falling silent again, momentarily unsure of how to continue the conversation and instead decided to just let John finish eating before moving on to properly talking to him.

You: Mrs. Hudson's cooking was always good but this was incredible, maybe he was just overly hungry, with the lack of cultery, he ate with his hands but he didn't mind. He didn't really care, he was that hungry that he basically shoved the food into his mouth but trying not to rush. He knew if he did so, it could cause issues and might make him sick which was the last thing he wanted. When he had finished the plate, it completely wiped clean, he placed it down on the floor and smiled again as he wiped his lips with the back of his hand. "That was very good, thank you for the extras too." He spoke softly. He shifted then and moved to take the blankets, almost gasping a little when he noticed that there was two. Two was perfect, he could lie on one and use the other to cover him. It would hopefully make sleeping a little more comfortable than it did right now, although he had got used to it a little. "Thank you." He said again as he clutched at the blankets, bringing them to him to sniff, they smelt a lot like Sherlock and the flat. It was comforting. Oh, he needed to touch Sherlock so badly. He put the blankets down and used the wall to get to shaky legs before he smiled. "I am.. so glad to see you."

Stranger: Sherlock's lips twitched into a hint of small smile as John finished eating and specifically thanked him for the extra helpings too. Of course, this was probably something John really ought to notice, but Sherlock couldn't help but be flattered by the words of thanks. There wasn't any doubt in his mind that John was just doing this to be kind, possibly to get on his good side so that maybe he'd do things like give him larger portions of food more often, but he did try his best not to think about that for now. Instead he focused on watching the way that John's eyes lit up at the discovery that he had thought to bring him two blankets in the absence of a bed. It was only when John stood to his feet that Sherlock found himself moving towards John, cautious of not approaching him too quickly before, despite his better judgement, he wrapped his arms around him and pulled him close. "I'm glad to see you too" Sherlock admitted softly, unworried about keeping John pulled close to his chest when he didn't have anything on him that might be capable of being used as a weapon against him. Instead, Sherlock allowed himself to become lost in the embrace, one hand lifting upwards to push some of John's growing hair back from his face so he could look at him properly.

You: The arms around him shocked him a little and he felt himself flinch a little under the touch, just from the shock and the way that his skin seemed to buzz underneath the others as he was touched. It felt so good, just to be touched.. to be held and his hands wrapped around Sherlock's too, letting out a soft sigh as the other said he was glad to see him. Oh, he had missed him. His nose nuzzled to his neck for a second, taking in the scent of his shampoo and shower gel, just like he had imagined. He let Sherlock pull away a little and watched as he moved a hand to brush away from his face and he bit his lip a little, trying to stiffle the small noise that left his lips from being touched so intimately. It was nice, it was better then nice and his legs felt weak at the small touch that he recieved. "Sherlock.." He whispered but he wasn't sure what he wanted to say so he didn't say anything else but just stared at the other, his hand reaching to touch Sherlock's and stroke up and down it with a soft sigh leaving his lips. Sherlock skin felt good, soft..