*Author's Note*
So this is just a short fluff. Johnlock from Sherlock BBC. Post Fall.
Sherlock tossed and turned around in his bed. He couldn't sleep. He hardly ever could but John had made him promise he would try so he would. Bloody Watson. Sherlock knew that if he actually started thinking of something he wouldn't be able to sleep, so he let his thought wander, a liberty he usually never allowed himself. His mind wandered to how John had reacted when finally came back home to 221B after 3 years. He was waiting in the apartment when John had gone out to get the groceries. John opened the door and a strange look of pain crossed his face when his eyes finally landed on Sherlock.
"Three years." He said simply after a few minutes of silence neither wanted to break.
"I didn't have a choice" Sherlock had tried explaining. And just then the calm composture than John had maintained till then crumbled.
"Three fucking years Mister Sherlock Holmes that I thought you were dead. Three fucking years that I had to deal with the fact that you called yourself a fraud. Three fucking years I visted your grave and begged for you to come back. Three fucking years that I had to deal with the memory of you jumping off the roof. Three fucking years that I had deal with helplessness of not being to be able to save you. THREE FUCKING YEARS SHERLOCK" He had roared as he fisted Sherlock's collar and pulled him close only to show him the anger in his eyes. And just as quickly as it had flared, his temper passed.
It took time but John and him were finally able to hold a proper conversation without John having to poke Sherlock just to check if he was actually there. John had moved out to Harry's house and refused to live in 221B till a couple of days ago.
Sherlock finally convinced stubborn John Hamish Watson to move back into his house. He promised he would try to be a lesser pain in the arse. Well at least he thought he did. In reality all he did was stand at John's door and awkwardly say "Mrs. Hudson says she isn't my house keeper and won't buy my groceries anymore. And I can't."
So John had sighed and moved back in.
"SHERLOCK!" The loud scream from John's room startled Sherlock and he sprinted towards John's room. The door wasn't locked so he opened it just to find John sleeping on the bed. Twisting and turning and writhing in pain. But sleeping. He was having a nighmare. Unsure of what to do, Sherlock waited a few minutes before he walked to John's bed.
"Don't jump Sherlock... Come back... Don't leave me" Sherlock could make out some of the various things that John was mumbling. The screaming seemed to have stopped but he was still restless.
"SHERLOCK" He yelled again and this time his eyes flew open as he sat up in his bed. He was sweating.
"Sherlock! You're okay. You're here! You didn't leave" John said seeing Sherlock kneeling next to his bed.
"Don't worry John. I'm not leaving"
"But you jumped..." John looked confused still recovering from his nightmare like a child would.
"I'm sorry"
"You're not going away?"
"No John"
"Okay" He said softly as he lay his head back on his pillow. His eyes fluttered shut as Sherlock reached out to stroke his hair.
"I'm right here John" He kept whispering till his eyelids too began to droop and he too fell asleep.