bakerstreet | otherwordly.

Just this look for a long moment, Sherlock.

"That... Wasn't the acceptance I was talking about. But, since you prefer bluntness: I was referring to what happened to you after you faked your death."

All that torture, Sherlock.

"You lost so much. And I dare to guess more than you'd ever planned to lose or experience. Did you grieve for that?"

Rather a stiff look away for the moment, Doctor.
"And how does one grieve over that, some say you should tell someone."
That's risking a bit much, it's better to just have someone know, without judgement.

He doesn't want pity from it.
"I am not well-versed in how one copes, without making another feel guilt.
It seemed best at the time to ignore it."

But one can only ignore these things for so long before they come bubbling to the surface and must be dealt with. "It's not an injury that can be kissed better contrary to fantasy."

"Does this look like a face that does kissing?"

The Doctor sighs and makes a show of reaching into his pockets, pulling out a stack of cards and flipping through them. Unfortunately, Clara isn't there to explain the purpose of the cards, so he has to do it.

"I have cards to help me make an effort to be nice. There isn't really a card for this, though."

He shrugs and pockets them again. But, he understands Sherlock's predicament. It's how he can listen without judgement or pity.

"The only one who can heal this injury is you. So, stop dawdling and get to work."

"You don't have to be nice, sometimes nice or kind is not truth. Or truth is neither. I forget which."

Dawdling.
Heal the injury.
So much talk and he wants to do something about it. He doesn't know how to heal the injury though, you can't just wipe off injured tissue, or damaged nerves.

Pity, that.
"I suppose I could start by not... taking poison as much."

"Sometimes, but there's no reason why it can't be both."

And the Doctor just pauses.

"I... Never said that. Is that all you've heard from me this entire time? Or are you focusing on that because you think it would be the easiest of the options to succeed at?"

"That is not all I've heard. The rest seems... feasible, however you do remember the other person I could confide in is married to an assassin and I have not figured her motives or all her weak points or a reason to have my brother involve MI-6 without causing a riot. I'm also not fond of - being cruel to a woman that is apparently pregnant, because that is unkind. Of course your answer for this is to 'fix it', is that not correct? I'm working on it."

He's a bit tense. He does need to talk, obviously, but how do you fix that?
"John is not particularly good at lying. He lies by omissions and there is only so many omissions a person of her caliber will tolerate before she loses her patience."

The Doctor pulls a hand over his face.

"Do you actually hear yourself? You're very hard work, Mr Holmes."

And the Doctor is losing patience. And yes, he figures that is part of Sherlock's plan, but still.

"I thought you liked Mary. I thought you forgave her. John did. Besides, She was the one who helped you, after all. She knew where to find all the answers, even when - especially when your brother wouldn't. The pair of you have a lot in common, you know. Especially considering what you faced when you were away. Ever thought of talking to her?"

"I do like her. I do see myself in her.
I do understand the commonality, in all that." He's very tense. "However, a person that has lived under a false identity for five years, to protect herself, is a compulsive liar and ... what does she know what I faced when I was away? She's changed her identity at least twice that I'm aware of, and she enjoys killing people, from what I've seen of the file. We did talk. Once. She thought shooting me again was a better option. Didn't know it was me she was aiming at, trivial information, though."

And if she would have shot John - well - there's a reason he was wearing the bulletproof vest, and her picture displayed on the building wall.
"You could go back in that machine of yours and ensure she never met John, although then John wouldn't be here, when I came back, would he?"

"You lived under false identities too. And I really don't think she enjoys killing people. Why would she have wanted out of her profession - which would result in her own death, if she enjoyed killing people? Humm? Sometimes lying is the only way to ensure one's survival. People do strange things when their survival is threatened."

He points at Sherlock.

"Look at you! Look how far you went to save your own life and how much farther you went to save the lives of your friends."

"She had no reason to keep such facts from her husband, who she apparently trusted. It's not even that she didn't tell me, that's irrelevant."

He will sit still, he will not think about being injured, about being shot, about thinking he was going to die and John was in danger and here he was dying on him, instead.

"I do not know if she is capable of being trusted. I couldn't quite figure that out in the drug haze that I tried to solve almost everything. There's several options to this, one of which could be fine. The other is unthinkable and if she knows that I'm investigating... most criminals when you get too close they panic and evade the entire operation, or they make a fatal error. Usually they kill someone. She can't really kill me again, she could however attempt to kill John if she wanted, she knows that would hurt me more than actually killing me."

"You still aren't listening to yourself. Or you're completely naive. Or you've never had a death mark hanging over your head."

The Doctor has. It's why he left Gallifrey. That pesky burn order.

"Say she had told John sooner. Magnussen knew her secret. What do you think he - or anyone else - would have done to John, if John had known the truth sooner, eh? Did you ever stop to think that she didn't tell John because she wanted to protect him? And did so the only way she knew how?"

The Doctor shakes his head, a bit disappointed.

"I'm a selective truth-teller myself. But you're still listening to me. You're giving me a chance. And I'm a total stranger. You have no idea how many people I've killed."

Trust him, it's many many more than Mary. And at least Mary was taking out the 'bad guys' sort of.

"I've been called naïve before, wouldn't be a surprise if that were true."
He grits his teeth a little at the excuses for her. He-didn't understand that, entirely. Maybe it was hypocritical but he thought John deserved better than him, he thought Mary was better than that.

Maybe he does have death hanging over his head. It did seem to follow him a bit too much. "You don't seem the sort to kill people, willingly."

Maybe he's misjudged.

"People have said that before. And I'll tell you what I've told them: You have no idea what I'm capable of."

Everyone underestimates the Doctor.

"But your trying to turn the conversation back on me. This is about you. What happened? Before your brother found you. Because even the TARDIS only had so much information. Which is saying something, considering she's her."

"People underestimate you because you give the façade of being kind and not-kind at once. Human trait, it seems.

What happened? Well... what do you think happened to a man who breaks into a military base that is gun running, and has a human trafficking organization on the side?" He shrugs. "Their welcome wasn't exactly warm if that's what you're asking."

"People underestimate me because they assume I'm human, or anything like human."

Which he's not. Time Lord superiority is strong with this one.

"If I knew, I wouldn't have asked. As I said, the details are a bit blurry. How many times were you captured over the three years you were gone? How many times were you tortured?"

He tried to be gentle. You bucked, Sherlock. So, now you get the real questions.

"How many times was I captured? At least five, in that time. I usually fought my way out, or bribed my way to escape. As for torture, how do count that? By blows by insults, by... increments of time?"

He's still fighting it really.
"Do you mean did they strip me and decide maybe if they violated a person they thought might be a deviant then I'd say what I knew? At least once."

The Doctor doesn't seem surprised by Sherlock's reaction, nor by the information that Sherlock offers. And he makes an attempt to be caring? Offer concern? Be a Doctor? One of those.

"Upon your rescue were all your... physical injuries... treated?"

"For the most part, yes."
Of course it hadn't exactly healed properly but that didn't matter.
"What is the point of this line of questioning? Yes, they were treated even after I tore those stitches. It's the nightmares that are bothersome, coupled with the nerve damage."

Someone must know, someone must suspect, really, but - no one does.
He'd rebuff anyone who asked anyway, make them prove they were actually worried.

"Nerve damage. What sort of nerve damage?"

He'll come back to the nightmares. Physical health first. It's harder to treat the mind if the body needs too much attention.

He works his right shoulder a little. "Mainly it's the median nerve, I'm not one to go to a general practitioner and say 'here, I was tortured, am I alright then', just - thought it wouldn't get worse."

It did hurt sometimes, but of course, trying to ignore it. "Mind over body, is what they used to say, those monks in Tibet."

It had stuck with him, trying to prove they were right, you could conquer it if you just willed it down.

"And your non-prescription drugs. Do they help with the pain of it?"

Because he does know a bit of human biology. Enough to get by. Sherlock is complicated, but he doesn't want to leave any of the issues trailing behind.

"Yes. Obviously."
Of course you can't tell a GP that, but the alien isn't one of those, nor is he as dull as one of the normal ones ( not John ).

Now do you understand the sense of it.
"People think... it's so easy for them, just quit, just give it up, just - go through detoxing again and think about the good things in life. Well it's not quite that simple. They do help, so yes, the problems and the consequences are my own."

The Doctor nods.

"You're not an addict. Never thought you were. Are the nightmares worse on nights after your pain is worse during the day?"

"Most days, yes."
It's so odd, to have consultation like this.

Some things he is not always right on are pointed out, others that he's expected criticism for, it doesn't come.

Well, the Doctor doesn't care about the human social constructs. He's always been concerned with the individual. It's how he was able to help various Daleks over the years - how he was able to help Davros.

He nods his head, then starts to pace thoughtfully.

"You must exercise great caution, especially if you do not wish to become an addict. I still think the way to ease your nightmares is to mourn what you have lost: Your sense of safety, your physical abilities, three years of life in London, the way everything went on without you."

He stops and turns to look at him.

"You don't want to trust Mary, but something tells me you trust her more than your brother. And, given her past, she might be better help to you. You had to kill people as well, I'm sure. You are just as much of an assassin as she was."

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