Author's Note: dedicated to Josie as a belated birthday present.

1. After the Blind Banker:

"For the last time Sherlock I'm fine!"

"Don't be ridiculous John, you just been knocked out, kidnapped, and severely traumatised. At the very least you should be concussed and feeling rather unnerved and at the most a nervous wreck like that Sarah was."

"She almost died, Sherlock, that's enough to make anyone a nervous wreck!"

John was very cross with Sherlock, who had not only practically abandoned him at every turn for the past week but gate crashed his date, and now he was getting very frustrated and irritated with his flatmate who won't leave him the hell alone after almost arriving too late to save him and his now practically ex-girlfriend from being murdered. Now after being cleared by both of the paramedics and the police all John wanted to do was collapse in bed and sleep forever.

Only Sherlock wasn't leaving him alone.

"For Christ sake Sherlock I can take care of myself; I am a doctor you know!" John snapped.

"So it is true," Sherlock observed, "doctors make the worst patients."

John spluttered for a couple seconds, "you are impossible!" he declared before marching off to his bedroom. He had changed into his pyjamas when Sherlock burst into his bedroom in his own and threw himself on John's bed. "Sherlock!" John snarled. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

"The paramedics said you should be woken up at every hour," Sherlock said in a bored tone as he fiddled with his mobile, "I thought it would be best if I stayed in here with you."

John groaned but he really couldn't argue with that logic. Damn Sherlock and his smart mouth! "Fine but be quiet!"

Sherlock raised an eyebrow but didn't say anything. John muttered under his breath as he climbed into bed and rolled on his side to ignore Sherlock and quickly fell asleep. An hour later John reluctantly opened his eyes when Sherlock's mobile began to ring obnoxiously he couldn't move to turn the bloody thing off seeing as Sherlock somehow managed to wrap himself round John as if John was his personal teddy bear.

"John," Sherlock moaned against the back of John's neck, "turn that bloody thing off."

"Bugger off Sherlock!"

2. After Meeting Moriarty:

John couldn't sleep.

Every time he shut his eyes all he could see was that damn swimming pool and feel that god awful bomb strapped onto his chest as the loud maniacal laughter of Moriarty's filled his ears. Nothing in Afghanistan compared to this nightmare and that was definitely saying something. He had no idea who it was that phoned Moriarty but he thanked god that they did or otherwise Scotland Yard would be cleaning him off the tiles with Sherlock.

He tossed and turned for a while but nothing seemed to help him sleep.

Even counting sheep turned into Moriarty laughing insanely.

The door creaked open and John tensed as he slowly reached for the gun. "Don't even think about it, John," Sherlock said coolly causing John to jump.

"Jesus!" John clutched his chest as his heart skipped a beat. "Don't do that Sherlock!"

"Do what?"

"Don't act all innocent, you know what, don't scare me like that," John groused.

"I have done nothing," Sherlock said flatly, "you clearly heard me entering the room seeing as you were prepared to shoot me. I merely warned you that I was not a murderer coming to murder you in your bed."

"And waking up to find you experimenting on me is a far safer option," John said sarcastically.

"I did not come to experiment on you, John, don't be so dull," Sherlock said with the smallest of yawns. "I had merely come to see if you wanted some company."

"Liar," John snorted.

"I have no idea what you are talking about John and I do not have the inclination to deduce it either," Sherlock said stiffly.

"Sure," John said disbelievingly but he held up his duvet for his flatmate, "just got to sleep Sherlock."

Soon enough Sherlock was spooning against John and snoring right in his ear. While the comfort and reassurance that Sherlock was safe was rather nice it wasn't half annoying to have someone snore right in your ear.

John didn't get a wink of sleep that night.

3. Christmas Eve:

Reluctantly John followed Sherlock into his bedroom. He had waited a good fifteen minutes knowing Sherlock was probably trying to fix whatever mess John and Mrs Hudson created in his sock index (who one earth has a sock index for Christ Sake?). This was not how he had hoped to spend his Christmas Eve in fact he had plans for dinner, wine, and hopefully a night with his girlfriend before suffering a day with Harry. Instead he was stuck comforting Sherlock for the loss of his own girlfriend while his dumped him for choosing Sherlock over her.

So not fair.

John was rather surprised to find Sherlock lying on his side on the bed staring blankly at the wall. Sherlock rarely ever lay on his bed like that nor did he ever look so...so...so depressed. Hesitatingly John kicked his shoes off and climbed onto the bed behind Sherlock and slowly wrapped his arm round Sherlock's waist.

He expected Sherlock to push him away or tell him to stop being so stupid and bugger off. Instead, much to John's surprise, Sherlock just placed his hand over John's and mumbled, "Stay."

They fell asleep like that which probably really didn't help John's case against his ex-girlfriend.

4. After the Hound:

Once again John couldn't sleep.

He tried desperately to tell himself that the Hound wasn't real and it wasn't going to appear in his hotel room to eat him in his sleep.

It wasn't working.

He thought about getting his gun but the dark had made everything about his room so sinister that an old childish fear made him frozen to the bed. Every creak, every breath Sherlock took in the bed next to him, and every howl from the wind against the windows felt like it came from the hellish giant murderous hound ready to pounce on him and tear him to pieces.

"John...?"

"Yes, Sherlock?" John whispered trying to slow down his breathing so Sherlock wouldn't instantly deduce that he was still frightened.

"Are you-?"

"Yeah."

"So am I."

Suddenly there was a quick movement as the two collided in a great big body hug as Sherlock stumbled back into the bed and they held onto each other tightly.

John soon fell asleep and when he woke up the next morning feeling far more relaxed and calm than the night before to find himself sleeping on his side in a cramped small bed with Sherlock spooning against him.

You know for someone who claims not to sleep that much Sherlock sure sleeps a lot in John's bed.

5. Sherlock's Return:

John was sleeping when something disturbed him.

One moment he was dreaming about Sherlock and him on one of their cases and then the next his bed creaks as someone climbs in with him. Their arms hooped round with his waist as they held him close to their chest.

It smelt like gunpowder, tobacco, sweat and just...well Sherlock!

His eyes flew open.

"Hello John," Sherlock's voice said somewhere above him.

At first john thought he could be dreaming still but it felt too real for it to be a dream. Then he wondered if he had finally cracked and was now hallucinating but again there was too much reality for this to be a vision of insanity. Therefore the only logical answer was that Sherlock was a horrible git who faked his death and left John to mourn for the last three years.

"You bastard!" John snapped as he elbowed Sherlock away from him and whirled round to punch him.

Sherlock fell back clutching his nose and grabbed hold of John's pyjama sleeve to steady himself only to actually fall out of bed with a loud thump and taking John down with him who was tangled in the bed sheets still.

It was very awkward to explain to the nurses at the Emergency room exactly why Sherlock had a broken nose and bruised ribs while John had a sprained ankle.

It really didn't help with the gay rumours which re-emerged in the newspaper the next morning.