Remember Me (John/Anthea friendship)

John's eyes widened at the explanation, he didn't think his dreams were based on reality, it was a big surprise. He was a soldier! Then what about the man with dark hair? Could he be someone important?

"How long?" he asked, his hands shaking slightly. "How long have I been in the war?" he wondered, trying to distract himself with taking a toast and spreading butter and jam on it.
"It sounds familiar..." he mumbled under his breath.

Anthea finished her tea and toast and cocked her head.

"You were in the Army for about 8 years and was deployed to Afghanistan and spent four tours there - so you were there two years. You were given good commendations"

She then smiled at him, with reassurance. Her Blackberry went off and she answered it professionally and nodded to John, then left the room
.

"8 years..." he repeated, realizing it had to be quite a big chunk of his life. He didn't feel a soldier. Even though sometimes he did feel incredibly angry and he knew he could kill someone if he wanted to.
Had he wanted to before?
That part of him scared him somehow. It was too complicated for him to understand it with his empty head.

He frowned when the phone rang and Anthea moved out of the room to take the call, he felt incredibly lonely without her, she was his only contact to his old life, to who he was before.
He sighed, placing his half eaten toast down.
He wasn't hungry any more.

Anthea was speaking to Mycroft about Sherlock and his whereabouts - she raised her voice quite a few times however tried to tone it down. After the call had finished she return with a gentle smile.

"Once of your friends from medical school will be coming down this afternoon. His name is Mike Stamford, he helped you find accommodation when you returned from service."

She then sat near John, and placed a gentle hand on the table.

"Would you like a walk now? The grounds are beautiful at the moment."

John snapped out of his mood as Anthea came back, his eyes narrowing on her hand.
"Do I not have a girlfriend?" he asked, because it seemed to him all the people he knew were guys.
There was no girls in his dreams either.
Maybe he was gay.
His sister was anyway.
It wouldn't be too weird.

It's all fine...

I know it's fine...

John blinked, he thought he heard someone's voice in his head.
He turned to Anthea, confused, but then nodded.
"Yes, that would be nice."

Anthe made small laugh at John's comment on girlfriends, how was she to explain that his "dead" flatmate made it very hard to hold down a relationship.

"No, you do not have a girlfriend. But you have clse friend called Sarah Sawyer, you worked at her practice as a GP." she then gently smiled.

Anthea thought about the idea of a walk, and she needed to clear her head. She stood up and led John through the corridors - there were picutres of all the Holmes men. She was hoping he did not recognise Sherlock. She automatically picked up an umbrella.

"Have you had any memories or pictures since being here?"

John looked up at her laugh. It was unexpected and he realized that it meant it was true.
He was gay.
He frowned at himself.
There was nothing wrong with being gay. It was just... surprising.
Maybe this Mike would be able to tell him more about a possible boyfriend...
Or an ex.
There had to be someone.

He followed Anthea silently, looking around and stopping in front of the picture of a tall man that made his heart run wild.
Yes, he was definitely gay.
"He's very handsome," he said, looking at Sherlock even though he had no idea who it was.

(Sorry for grammatical errors in previous post - was on phone xD )

Anthea stopped when John saw Sherlock, and smiled. "Yes he is. He was Mycroft's brother. You two were friends for a quite a time."

She then placed a reassuring hand on John's shoulder. She wanted to tell him everything, her heart was breaking seeing John like this.

They reached the front door, and one of the staff opened it for them. Was a beautiful day, however Harry had cancelled. She was very hungover.

John didn't budge for a while, just looking at the glorious picture of this man he couldn't remember. What was his name?
"What do you mean... was?" he asked, his heart still beating oh so fast in his chest.

"You don't mean he's-" he felt his voice choke, he knew he didn't remember him, but he knew this person was important, very important.

It was a beautiful day outside, but John was suddenly very cold.

Anthea produced a small smile, watching John's appreciation of Sherlock's picture, then her heart filled with dread. she then stuttered;

"Sherlock passed away, we are unsure of how it happened though. You and him were very close."

She swallowed down her bile, feeling rather nauseous. She noticed John's goosebumps and passed him a jacket. "Here"

The piece of news made John's heart stutter in his chest, and then it clenched tightly.
That man was dead.
Could it be that man had been his lover?

John frowned, accepting the jacket and putting it over his shoulders.
It was the first time since the accident that he was glad he didn't have his memories.
He was sure it would hurt a lot more if he remembered about this person.

"I can't remember..." he said simply, shrugging off the loneliness that pooled in his chest.

He paused for a moment as they walked through the garden.
"Was I a good person, Anthea?" he wondered out loud, "Because there surely isn't a mass of friends here to help me out... it seems like I have only you..."

He bit on his lower lip. "Was I mean to people perhaps?"

"You will remember in time John, it could take months until memories return and they still maybe foggy at times. Do not worry."

Anthea was enjoying the fresh air and was lost in her own thoughts about the conversation with Mycroft about Sherlock - he had been found in Italy and was closing in on Moriarty's web - but he could not come back to this. It could revert John back further than before. John's voice arouse her from her contemplation.

"You are a lovely person John; a kind, gallant man who would help anyone out. You loved adventure." she then looked at him with almost sorrow. "You have a few close friends and they will visit in time, it's been a been a shock to your friends."

She then gave a reassuring smile. "I have known you to be angry, but never directed at specifics."

John looked at her as she described him. He didn't feel it true, but he didn't feel it false either.
He didn't know who he was, he didn't know how he was.

"Thank you, Anthea," he replied, slowly reaching out his hand to grip hers. "You are being very nice to me," he added, wondering about the last of her words.
Temper.
Did he have a temper?
Not even that felt familiar.

Anthea began to feel remorseful for what had been said, but it was true. The early days after Sherlock's "demise" - John was involved in many altercations.

She received John's hand and gently squeezed it back. "It's no trouble John."

They continued walking when a gunshot sounded in the distance, it was game season though so nothing to worry about. But she was unsure of how it would make John feel.

John was enjoying the sun, the touch of Anthea's hand only helping him relax.
At least he wasn't completely alone.

The gunshot was like a stab to the chest though.
His eyes widened and his hand instinctively went to his back, as if looking for his own weapon.

Then there was a flood of memories rushing in his head, too much noise, too much confusion, too much sun, and he passed out.
Just like that.
His knees giving up and his body sliding on the path they had been walking on.
Gone.

She sensed something was up and turned around and called his name before he crumpled to the floor. She then knelt by him, checking his vital signs - shock. Not good She took out her Blackberry and asked one of the medical team to come and help her.

She spoke in a soft, reassuring voice. "John,it's Anthea. can you hear me?" she then placed a hand on his forehead and stroked it gently.

John came to very slowly, or at least it felt slow.
The memories in his head seemed to be gone already, just bits and pieces lingered.
Like his gun.
"Where is my gun?" he asked, opening his eyes.

He looked at Anthea, realizing she was worried.
"I... am okay... I think... my head... is killing me though..." he admitted, not really feeling his body.

Anthea sighed in relief and gave him a quick glance over. "You're gun is at the house. It's safe, do not worry. Game season at present."

She then assisted to sit John up; "You seem uninjured. I think the gunshot must have caused a flashback. We will get you check over back at the house." she then gently smiled. The medic then came over and questioned what had happened, Anthea was thorough and they suggested a light sedative when they got back.

Anthea then looked back at John. "Are you okay to stand?" Placing an arm round John to help him to his feet.

John nodded, taking her hand as he stood up again, his legs felt weak, but he was going to manage.
"I am alright... I think I just need to get another cup of tea..." he said, looking back to the house.

"Yes... I saw a lot of flashes... but nothing I can pinpoint now..." he admitted, thoughtful.


((Should we get Sherlock to come in soon? I am running out of inspiration XD))

Anthea smiled at John with a concerning gaze, he looked a bit better. They headed back to the house and Anthea then nodded in agreement, she would not press the data too far.

"Tea, and think maybe a rest. Tea solves a lot of British problems."

Anthea noticed the saloon car and sighed to herself. She then let them both in and sat John in the lounge and ordered tea.

"Anything else?"

((I thought that Sherlock could come back to the manor in the evening injured - John hears the voice and commotion - medical training kicks in..xD))

"Yes, possibly... I seem to sleep a lot, but I am always tired anyway," he muttered, and followed her inside. He was a bit shaky on his feet, but he could manage.
"I wonder if it's always been like this, or the memory loss made me like this..."

He looked at her at the question and shook his head. "No, not really, nothing..."


((Sounds like a good idea ^^ ))

Sherlock had given Mycroft's men the slip in Italy. He knew they'd been trailing him and quite frankly, it was annoying. He didn't need to be looked after by his big brother. He was perfectly capable of taking care of himself. He'd been given a tip off that one of Mycroft's best henchmen had made a return to England and the more he heard about it from various sources, the more he realised he had to get back to England too, and as quickly as possible.

Very few people knew that Sherlock was still alive. In theory, it was only supposed to be Molly and Mycroft. He'd been working undercover on the Continent, using various different aliases to help out the local police and bring justice to members of Moriarty's criminal web. He was quite alarmed when, upon catching one of Moriarty's henchmen in Northern Italy, the man muttered "I know who you are Sherlock Holmes...." Sadly the man had been dying at the time and could offer no further information despite Sherlock's best efforts at last minute interrogation, but since then Sherlock had been on high alert. He had dispatched spies and allies to keep their ear to the ground and gradually he became aware that word was slowly spreading through the remaining members of Moriarty's gang that Sherlock Holmes was indeed alive and well. He knew it would only be a matter of time before they made a move to try and force him out of hiding.

Sherlock heard about John's accident from Mycroft. His first instinct was to return immediately but in the end opted to wait a little longer, to see if John regained any of his memory. He wasn't sure whether it would be bad or good for John to remember Sherlock was dead. After careful consideration he decided it would be good. He wanted to see the look on John's face when he found out Sherlock wasn't dead. It would be priceless, he thought with a small grin.

But when he heard that one of Mycroft's henchmen had been sighted in England, things began to fall into place in Sherlock's mind. They knew Sherlock was alive. They'd heard about John's accident. They knew John was ill and vulnerable. They knew if they could get to John, Sherlock would re-emerge from the shadows to protect his friend. They were quite right. And Sherlock figured if they could find out that much, they could easily find out where John was staying. He blamed a security leak. It was obvious Moriarty had someone working in the British Government, with access to Mycroft, access to classified information regarding Sherlock and his colleagues. Moriarty practically had men everywhere. This was only confirmed when a member of his Homeless Network informed him of a new sighting in Cheltenham, the location of his brother's mansion. Sherlock booked himself on the next flight out.

Anthea nodded to John and gave him a reassuring smile, she was deeply concerned about him still.

"Traumatic brain injury and stressful situations can cause fatigue. Do not worry John, rest is good for you."

Anthea sat there contemplating the fact there may be a mole on the strategic team - that was worrying. And the fact that Sherlock was back in UK made it more troublesome.

"I will check on you later, I have to do some business to attend to." Anthea smiled and walked out.

John nodded, too lost in his thoughts to even think about the fact he was going to be alone again.
He was probably used to it anyway, considering his boyfriend was dead.

He bit on his lower lip, instinctively moving to where he had seen that picture.
He stared at those fine features for long, wondering whether the memories he had seen for a second there were those of when his boyfriend died.
He had failed to protect him, hadn't he?

It was probably better if he just didn't remember.

Anthea was sitting in the office when the call about a sighting of Moriarty's men near Cheltenham - that was worrying her. She had a small team of security guards there - she was able to handle herself too.

It was a waiting game - one that could go one of two ways; John getting mortally injured or it was a reconissance mission to see if Sherlock would react.

She decided to text Sherlock

Sighting of Moriarty's 2iC near Mansion. We can handle it if you are unable to attend. A

Anthea took a sip of scotch this could be a long night.