Run. Run, run as fast as you can. Shit! Shitshitshitshitshit! Oh God they're shooting! Oh God! Oh God! Please God let me live. Oh God it hurts. Please, somebody. Help me. Oh, shit! Get up, please legs just work one more time. Oh God help me. Help. Somebody…

John woke up screaming. Again. Shit. I probably woke up Sherlock. If he was sleeping, that is. He leaned forward and hugged his knees, tears streaming down his face. He wiped his eyes and got out of bed. Well, if Sherlock is awake then I guess I'll find out. He opened his door and as he tip toed down the stairs he almost tripped over Sherlock, who was sitting on the stairs. Probably thinking. Sherlock turned around and smiled.
"I didn't hear you get up."
John sat down next to him, "I didn't mean to wake you up."
"I was already awake."
"Oh. Well, uh, I'm going downstairs for tea, would you like some?" He started down the stairs.
"John." John froze as Sherlock grabbed his hand. "This is the fourth one this week and its only Friday. What's wrong?" John sighed and sat down next to Sherlock's legs and leaned against them, yawning.
"Nothing, I'm fine."

Sherlock snorted, "Your heart rate is elevated, you just woke up screaming, you were limping, and your back is soaked in sweat. You are not fine, John." Sherlock touched John's left shoulder gently, "And," He continued as John flinched, "Your shoulder is extra sensitive." John put his head down on Sherlock's knee and yawned again. "I'm fine, Sherlock. They're just nightmares. They can't hurt me and I can't stop them. So its fine. Really, it is."

Sherlock sighed and lightly pushed John off. "John, go back to bed, I'll play something to help you sleep." John shook his head, "No, I was going downstairs for something."
Sherlock pulled John up by his arm and pushed him up the stairs. "Can you even remember what you were getting?"
John shook his head, "A book?"
Sherlock smiled. "No, tea. And tea can wait for when you actually wake up."
"I'm awake," John said sleepily as he leaned against the wall and slowly walked up the stairs.
Sherlock reached past John and opened the door before the man ran into it. "No, you're not. Go back to sleep."
John walked slowly to the bed and laid down, pulling the sheets over himself clumsily. Sherlock pulled the sheets over John completely. "Sleep," He said and walked out.

Moments later the sweet sound of one of Sherlock's own compositions floated up into John's room and filled the air. John smiled at Sherlock's attempt to lull him to sleep. It won't work. I'm going to have to stay up all night and listen. When Sherlock finished playing he crept up the stairs to John's room and checked to see if John was sleeping before he set the cup of tea on the bed stand. "Goodnight, John." He whispered. John shifted and rolled over to face Sherlock. As Sherlock closed the door behind him he smiled. John had been smiling in his sleep. And he hoped, as he put his violin away, that he was the reason.

...

This is my first fanfic so please stop sharpening your pitchforks and put out your torches. I know I'm a bad writer but I want to get better so please comment and tell me how to fix stuff.