No, no! Help me, please! Someone, anyone – save them!

"Charlie. Charlie, wake up. It's just a dream, Charlie. Wake up, I'm here – it's safe."

What?! I was disorientated but the deep voice dragged me back. My head pounded and my throat was hoarse. I could feel my face was wet with tears. I had had another nightmare – I couldn't remember much, but my step father was there; that was bad enough.

"Charlie. Charlie?"

Sherlock.

I opened my eyes and tried to blink back more tears. "Sh-er-lock" I choked. I was shaking. My heart was thumping in my chest. He was a blur in front of me with the tears that flooded my eyes and my lack of glasses.

Sherlock put his hands on my waist, "Charlie, you were having a nightmare," he stated "are you alright?"

I gulped down a sob as I tried to answer him. At some point I had clung onto him, clutching the fabric of his shirt – I couldn't let go, I didn't even consider it. I just sat there, unable to answer, gripping on to him as if my life depended on it.

"Its okay" he soothed, slowly drawing me carefully into reassuring hug. Gently, he held me, one arm around my shoulders and another around the small of my back. I buried my head in his shoulder, not even trying to hold back my tears.

"Husssshhhh" Sherlock breathed, slowly rocking me back and forth. I felt safe for the first time; truly safe, not temporarily avoiding the inevitable, but protected by a strong, intelligent man who actually, deeply cared for me, who would never hurt me – who would never let me get hurt again. I don't know how long we stayed like that before I could finally compose myself. Sherlock softly ran his fingers through my hair and his other hand rubbed my back until my breathing became even again.

"Is that better now Charlie?" Sherlock's concern was clear, it sounded strange in his voice after becoming accustomed to hearing him deal with the likes of Anderson.

We had agreed a while ago not to ask each other how we felt, we were both sick of it. I nodded slowly, my head still against his chest; I loosened my grip on his shirt. I was still trembling slightly but I felt better than before. Sherlock sat back to look at me, making sure that I was indeed 'better'.

He shifted to stand up, but before he could I caught his arm "Please stay" I whispered quickly, my throat aching.

There was a desperation in my voice and a fear in my eyes and I hated that, but when Sherlock saw it he nodded and answered, "Of course, I'll stay with you as long as you need me; I promise"

Sherlock stood, holding my hand. He kicked off his shoes and pulled back my duvet before slipping in beside me; I edged over to let him in. He put his arm around my shoulders and guided me into a close cuddle. I rested my head on Sherlock's chest, my hand on his shoulder. His other hand reached over to hold my side.

"Do you want to go back to sleep? I won't leave, not ever, I promise."

"Okay. Thank you Sherlock" I said quietly, I was barely shaking now. He pulled the duvet close around us and placed a kiss to the top of my head.

"It's okay Charlie, go to sleep. I'll be here when you wake up"

I snuggled in close to Sherlock. Normally we weren't often physically close, the odd hug or on occasion we curled up together to watch TV, and more recently Sherlock had taken to holding my hand in comfort. This was strange but it felt right for the moment. Sherlock stayed with me that night, and every other night since. Without Sherlock the grief and pain and guilt I suffered would have crushed me indefinitely – Sherlock saved me that night.