"We could always take Rosie if you don't feel comfortable with John around her." Molly offered. This was a nice offer, but Mary seemed to take offense, as though she thought Molly was trusting to tell her how to parent her own child.
"I don't think Rosie should be alienated from her own father." Mary snapped, crossing her arms and frowning.
"Someone's a bit tense." Sherlock observed, not bothering to hide his sarcastic tone.
"Well yes, I am tense. I haven't seen my husband for the longest time, I have a job, I have a family to protect, and I don't want to just give it all up because someone told a rather convincing ghost story!" Mary exclaimed. Sherlock finally sat up, looking at Mary with an extremely offended glare.
"Ghost story?" he asked, hoping that she would justify her daring words with a good explanation. Mary blinked, as if not expecting to be opposed on such a statement.
"Well...yes. You're putting ideas into all of our heads, you're creating mass hysteria. I'm still not entirely sure that there's anything supernatural happening here at all!" Mary insisted stubbornly. Sherlock just laughed, leaning back on the couch with a sigh.
"Not supernatural, huh? I'd like to hear your good Christian opinion on your husband's state right now." Sherlock snapped. Mary looked at him nervously, and Molly stared up the steps, as if worried for her cat's safety.
"What do you mean?" Mary wondered in a trembling voice, the silence tangible between the small group. Sherlock just sat back, however, and waited until Mary's desperate curiosity began to look downright painful.
"He's possessed right now; he's sitting up in his bed and not moving. There is a black fog surrounding him, I didn't want to say anything before." Sherlock said simply after a small moment.
"That is preposterous, he's not possessed, he's simply sleeping oddly!" Mary defended, getting to her feet as if she felt the need to defend her claim.
"Mary, please don't go up there." Sherlock insisted, remaining on the couch because he severely doubted the sincerity of Mary's threats. She was so defensive, so insistent that he husband hadn't gotten the disease of the dead that she was losing her mind.
"I am going to go up there! I'm going to debunk this entire thing right now, that it's sleep walking, and nothing more!" Mary insisted determinedly. Molly gasped, but Sherlock just growled in annoyance.
"Mary don't you dare!" Sherlock exclaimed, but by the time he could jump to his feet to stop her she had already dashed off towards the steps. What an idiot. Sherlock followed her up the steps, and dispute his jumping them two at a time he still wasn't quick enough to prevent Mary from throwing the chair away from the door handle.
"Mary no, don't disturb him, he might be violent!" Sherlock exclaimed, running at her just in time to grab her hand before it could reach for the door handle. Mary yelped, as if she were afraid that Sherlock might hurt her, but nevertheless she tried to worm her hand out of his grip.
"Mary no!" Molly screeched from the safety of the stairwell. Obviously she wasn't brave enough to go upstairs with the possessed man behind the door.
"Sherlock let go of me, let go or I will call the police!" Mary exclaimed. Sherlock threw himself against the door, blocking the door handle so that Mary had no means of entering.
"I won't let you hurt yourself just to prove myself right, Mary, you need to trust me on this, you need...." Sherlock's words were cut off when he felt the door handle start to turn against his lower back. He stopped talking and his eyes widened; suddenly it wasn't what was in front of the door that scared him, but behind it.
"Run Mary." He hissed, turning and grabbing the handle with both of his hands, trying to prevent it turning any father.
"This is ridiculous Sherlock; you're being such a child!" Mary exclaimed.
"Run, didn't you hear me? He's coming out, he's turning the handle!" Sherlock insisted, kicking blindly behind him to try to get her moving.
"John, JOHN CAN YOU HEAR ME?" Mary screamed desperately. The handle was still trying to turn under his fingers, pulling at his skin and stretching it uncomfortably across his fingers.
"Sherlock?" asked a voice from behind the door, a very confused voice, but a human voice all the same. Sherlock paused, quieting for a tense moment and not letting himself relax.
"That's him." Mary whispered.
"John, is that you?" Sherlock asked through the door. He could hear Mary's impatient breathing behind him; if that really was John this would be very awkward indeed.
"I think so." John agreed. Sherlock still didn't let go of the handle, and he could hear Mary take an irritated step forward.
"John he's trapped you in..." Mary started.
"Shut up Mary." Sherlock snapped, and she gasped behind him.
"Sherlock it's me, I promise." John assured. Sherlock was quiet for a moment, trying to think about how to handle this situation. He didn't know how good the Aspiration was at impersonating John and using his voice, and obviously there would be no information John knew that the Aspiration didn't, they shared the same memories and the same brain. The only way Sherlock could possibly tell if it was John or Irene standing behind that door was if he opened it and looked for the fog, but that would be endangering not only himself but Mary and Molly as well.
"Sherlock it's me." John repeated, the doorknob pulling more and more under Sherlock's hands.
"Mary stand back, please." Sherlock muttered.
"I'm not afraid of my own husband." Mary defended stubbornly.
"Mary just do as he says, alright? He's the authority here." John said from behind the door. Sherlock couldn't help but smile smugly, unseen to Mary's slanted eyes. She didn't say anything, she was probably much too taken aback, but finally she made her way down the hallway. Sherlock felt a little bit better now that the women were out of the way, he didn't want to endanger anyone except himself if he opened this door.
"John, I want you to walk back and stand with your back against the far wall." Sherlock instructed.
"Sherlock you're being ridiculous." John decided.
"Humor me then, Mr. Watson." Sherlock demanded. He heard a troubled sigh from behind the painted door, but finally the door knob slackened and he heard footsteps walking across the bedroom carpet.
"I'm going to open the door." Sherlock warned.
"I'm against the wall, you can come in." John assured, sounding as if this were a very big waste of his time. Sherlock turned the knob ever so slowly, pushing open the door and peering into the bedroom. It was all together undisturbed, the bed was even made, the blankets pulled neatly over the arranged pillow. John was standing obediently against the wall, and Sherlock was relieved to see that the room was entirely smoke free. John was himself once more. Sherlock walked slowly into the room and shut the door behind him, leaning against it and staring at John across the room.
"Am I clean?" John asked unsurely, looking right back nervously.
"Yes, you are." Sherlock agreed. John let loose a sigh of relief, but still didn't step away from the wall.
"What happened, why the caution?" John wondered nervously. "I wasn't...?" Sherlock sighed heavily, but nodded, letting his gaze drop down to the carpet, still with John's footprints indented into the soft fibers.
"You didn't move, you didn't speak. I peered into your room when I woke up and saw you just sitting there, emerged in the ghostly black smoke." Sherlock admitted. John just stared, trying to absorb this new information.
"Well...this is a good thing, right? It proves that the Aspiration only takes hold while I'm asleep." John decided, trying to force a smile onto his face. "And if it wasn't moving then maybe the sunlight weakens it."
"Possibly so." Sherlock agreed, not too quick to get his hopes up. Anything that had to do with this Aspiration was a mystery to him; dispute John's rather annoying optimism.
"What was Mary doing?" John wondered. Sherlock just sighed, stepping away from the door and looking at John in concern.
"She wanted to prove to herself that you weren't possessed, she still claims that this is a nasty bout of sleep walking." Sherlock admitted. John just laughed, shaking his head as if this didn't bother him as much as it should.
"If only, am I right?" he wondered. Sherlock forced a laugh, nodding in agreement.
"Somehow we must convince her of the severity of all of this, just so that she doesn't endanger herself or Rosie. She's volunteered to stay up with you tonight, in your own house." Sherlock muttered.
"That sounds like a thrilling evening." John admitted with a sarcastic laugh.
"Well, she is your wife. Surely you can find some topic of conversation to entertain yourself with." Sherlock assured. John just shook his head doubtfully, looking rather upset that Sherlock wouldn't accompany him on the second night of misery.
"We've talked about everything under the sun, all that's left are the conversations I don't want to have, like the possibility of having more children, or going up to see her parents over Christmas, or talking about the clients she saw recently." John admitted.
"More children?" Sherlock asked with a laugh.
"Maybe they'll turn out to be half ghost, who knows? That's why I don't want to have the bloody conversation!" John exclaimed with a groan.
"I would volunteer, but she beat me to it. Something tells me she wants to spend more time with you, I feel as though sees me as competition for your attention." Sherlock admitted. John just frowned, as if he weren't entirely sure what that was supposed to mean.
"She's jealous of you?" he clarified, his eyebrows wrinkled in confusion.
"In a way it's only natural, she barely knows me, she thinks I'm just spewing lies for money and attention. It must be rather irritating for her to see someone she cares so deeply about to be swept up in my schemes." Sherlock guessed, his cheeks flushing for no obvious reason. He felt John's eyes on him but he didn't want to return the gaze, something told him that if he looked into John's eyes he wouldn't be able to look away.
"Then maybe that's what I'll talk to her about, you." John suggested. Sherlock could help but laugh doubtfully, scanning the room and carefully avoiding John with his gaze.
"That sounds like a very risky topic; you ought to just have more children." Sherlock suggested, and John shook his head in horror.
"I'm not ready for another commitment, and think about the college funds and with me not working right now and... see! This conversation is horrible!" John exclaimed, stopping himself before he rambled on and on about finances.
"Well then, on that note why don't we go out and assure Mary and Molly that all is well." Sherlock suggested.
"Or we could just sit here and talk." John said with a shrug, trying to look as innocent as possible as he suggested that.
"I think we had better go out there, save all topics of conversation for my next night of babysitting." Sherlock suggested with a laugh.
"I'm not a baby." John defended. Sherlock just shrugged, and with that he opened the door and walked into the hallway, seeing that the two women had disappeared from the stairway.

Entry #6, October 26th, 2017: It was actually quite embarrassing, how Mary acted around Sherlock Holmes. Before we even called Molly about arranging someone to come help us she was already apprehensive, she refused to believe because she didn't know how to explain such a phenomena, she didn't understand. I think she's held onto the stubbornness, or at least she readopted it when she started to feel neglected. I must admit, however, that after the night I spent with Sherlock, staying up in the darkness and watching each other with tired eyes, well, I felt more of a connection than I had with anyone. Yes, that even includes Mary. I know she'll hate me for bringing this up to the public, that is if this log ever goes past thing computer screen, but Sherlock simply entranced me in a way I couldn't understand. It was a curious feeling, the sense of need that was pulling me to him, but he attracted me like no other with his sparkling eyes, his tall, lean figure, and the small smile that played across his lips when he saw me watching him. I don't know if it was ever his intention to draw me in, but whatever he was doing, whether it be accidental or intentional, it worked. I knew that I shouldn't have done anything about, I knew that I should've withdrew myself from this place of temptation, from his gaze, but I was stupid, I was weak. It was obvious why Mary disliked him from the start; it was probably because I loved him from the start as well. End Entry.

Three Weeks Earlier: Sherlock should probably be sleeping, and yet, his eyes were open. In some ways he looked possessed himself, lying in Molly's guest bedroom with his eyes fixed on the ceiling, starting through the darkness. But he was fully conscious, fully awake, and even he couldn't explain why. Sherlock couldn't explain the sense of uneasiness he had in the pit of his stomach, knowing that he wasn't the only one awake at this hour. He knew that John and Mary were awake as well, sitting in their house and presumably talking. But maybe they were silent, maybe they were simply watching TV in an awkward quietness, or possibly reading, or maybe they were locked in an embrace and making use of this time in the darkness that they were given. Sherlock shuttered to think of the latter, he hated the idea of Mary deserving such a wonderful man. Sherlock, of course, knew that he didn't deserve John either, but it was very tempting to try to picture the future the two of them could have. It wasn't a love so much as a temptation, so much as a hopeless passion, but that didn't stop Sherlock's imagination from going wild. He wondered what a life with John Watson might be like, once he was ridded of that horrible Aspiration buried deep in his chest. Sherlock didn't doubt that he would be loving, affectionate, and sweet. They could raise a child together, they could have a dog that jumped up on their legs and wagged his tail whenever they came home. They could sit on the couch well after darkness, hidden in each other's arms and talk in soft voices about how their day was, they could watch infomercials and play Monopoly and cook weird recipes they found online. Sherlock could never imagine a normal life for himself; he could never imagine a happy ending. But for once he found a man that may just suit him, that may just love him back. And of course, this was how the universe worked. As soon as Sherlock finally discovered a man who he suspected he was compatible with, he found that same man to be married, to be taken. If they managed to get that Aspiration out of John's body then all that would be left for Sherlock would be a bundle of cash and a regretful goodbye, and he would be back to his little apartment with no one to talk to but the ghost of Mrs. Hudson. It was times like this when he missed her and her very straight forward mind. He could confide in her when he needed the truth, when he needed to be told exactly what was right and what was wrong. Sherlock told her everything purely because he knew she would know what to do, what to say. The moment Sherlock would dare bring up the fact that he was starting to feel something for a married man would have her livid, she would scoff at those very words and tell him exactly what he needed to hear to get this sinful idea out of his head. Because Sherlock wasn't allowed to love anyone, at least not now, not yet. Sherlock preyed on men who wouldn't mind getting abandoned after one night, men who would be okay with being fed drinks until they couldn't walk and then lead to a strange apartment with a strange man. They didn't know who Sherlock was, nor did they care. They found him beautiful, and charming, and flirtatious. They wanted to be with him because they knew they could, they knew that neither would get attached and they were quite alright with that. Sherlock needed these men for the human touch they provided when he was lost in the world of the dead. Who knew why they need him? It didn't matter, none of it did, because once they got their love and once they left each other they didn't cross the other's mind again, and all was well. John wasn't like that; it wasn't so simple with someone you have genuine feelings for. A healthy relationship sounded almost dangerous after so many one night stands, it sounded impossible. So for now Sherlock tried to ignore his heart and soul, he tried to wipe the mere thought of John Watson from his head and tried to distract himself with the empty darkness. It was times like these when he missed the dead.