[Sherlock Holmes ACD] --- Sanctuary (JWP#31 2016)

[alaylith]

Title: Sanctuary
Theme: Watson's Woes July Writing Prompts 2016
Prompt: #31 Once More, With Feeling: Music has always had a major role in the lives of the Baker Street denizens. Use or allude to some form of music - music-hall, Wagnerian opera, Nina Simone’s “Sinnerman,” Moriarty’s deadly music-box in the Basil Rathbone films, whichever instrument Joan Watson played (because you KNOW she played something) - in your offering.
Rating: General Audiences
Universe: ACD
Characters: Watson, Holmes
WordCount: 493
Summary: After he wakes up Watson follows the sound of music to find Holmes. (Continuation to "Trust", "Dangerous", "Pride" & "Oasis")

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Watson awakes to music and he blinks tiredly at the ceiling above. His body feels heavy, his mind sluggish and he realizes that he must have been sick; the remnants of fever still plaguing him.
As he moves slowly he can feel the bruises and wounds stretch on his skin, but he is not in so much agony as he has been the day of the beating or the day after. He must have slept for a while for the injuries to be healed this much.

He looks to his open door through which he can hear the gentle music flow and Watson slowly gathers his feet under him and stands up on trembling legs.
The music draws him down to the living room and as he enters he immediatly looks upon Holmes standing in front of the dark windows and playing his violin with his eyes closed.

Watson does not know how long he stands there and just watches his friend, ignoring the pain and the weakening of his body.
"Sit down, Watson," Holmes' voice suddenly reaches him, but Holmes does not stop to play nor does he open the eyes.
Watson slowly walks over to his chair and sits down, an almost silent relieved sigh passing through his lips.

The music continues and Watson stares into the dancing flames mesmerized. He feels tired, worn and weak - the weakness of his body also affecting his mind and more importantly his stubborn pride.
"I am sorry, Holmes," he say slowly without raising his head. "I should have listened to you when you told me to stay. I should have... trusted you without questioning.
You have proven often enough that you know better than I and I should..." He falls silent, not knowing what else to say.

The music stops and almost silent steps draw near, before a gentle hand lands on his shoulder.
"Trust should never be given blind, Watson," Holmes says lowly. "No matter if someone is right or wrong, you should never just demand another's trust.
Especially not the trust of such a honourable man as you are.

You have to earn trust, Watson, you have to deserve it or it would be meaningless.
My feverent hope is that you will consider me worthy enough as a friend to gain your trust one day, my dear fellow."

"You already have it," Watson whispers and the hand grips his shoulder a bit stronger.
"Then you will have to learn and trust yourself again," Holmes counters and Watson inhales sharply, before he smiles and pats Holmes' hand gently.
"Until then I have yours to rely on."

Holmes does not answer, but he takes his hand back and a moment later soft music fills the air again and Watson relaxes back in his chair, closing his eyes.
And feeling completely safe in the sanctuary of Holmes' presence, Watson falls easily back to sleep, as music soothes the pain of his body and mind.

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