Sherlock closed his eyes, smiling when the drug coursed through his veins.
“Sherlock?” Angela’s voice drifted over to him.
“Yes,” he slurred back.
“I want you to concentrate on the sound of my voice, follow it, watch the flame from the candle I just lit, relax and let your mind be still.”
Sherlock fought to acquiesce, but was prisoner to the voices that whispered inside his head. The voices that plagued him every day. He couldn’t remember a day without their relentless assault on his peace of mind.
“Sherlock, don’t fight me relax.”
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