He was having a dream about being attacked again. The knife was so close to his neck it was unreal. He screamed and kicked out the muggers just held him still as they ransacked his school bag and his coat pockets. He was tossed to the ground and the knife was thrown at him.

When it had actually happened the thief's had just taken his bag, but in his dream a knife was lodged in his side. All this had happened when he was in his first year of high school and years from that it still haunted him from time to time.

This time it was different though. This time he didn't wake up in bed, no he woke up on the floor his foot underneath him and his ankle screaming at him. He realised that it wasn't the dream that had woken him, but the thud of him landing on the floor.

He was in pain and for some reason decided that it was just because he was sat funny. He tried to stand up; he only got as far as moving his foot before falling back on his bum. "shit." He gasped. He couldn't get up and if he shouted john, john would surely be annoyed at him. He glanced over at the time, yes if he shouted john he'd definitely be annoyed at half bloody three in the morning. He also didn't want to tell john how he had ended up falling out of a double bed and he would be entirely embarrassed for john to find him on the floor with… wait with tears rolling down his face? He was totally and utterly stuck. He had to do something…. He sat there debating whether to shout for john or not until the pain was unbearable. Tears were streaming down his face.

"john." he spoke barely above a whisper. "John?" he repeated louder this time so he sounded like he was just taking normally. "john." he called and heard a jump from the upstairs bed. He heard no other movement. "John?" he questioned.

"What do you want Sherlock?" john asked as he got into the living room.

"Help… please?" the tears were still falling.

"Help with what Sherlock?" john asked as he opened the door. John searched the bed for Sherlock and then he looked around and spotted Sherlock out of the corner of his eye. He gasped and rushed over to him.

"I-my ankle…" he struggled.

John grabbed his arms and hoisted him up. Sherlock didn't put his foot down and therefore had to balance with john.

"I'm sorry… I had no other choice. So sorry." His voice wavered.

"Heyy, sh shh." His voice was gentle and he pulled Sherlock into a hug "It's alright; you did nothing wrong by shouting me. Come on let's sit you down." he guided Sherlock to the bed where Sherlock sat down. John examined Sherlock's foot. "How long were you sat there for?" he asked with his gentle voice.

Sherlock glanced round at his digital clock again. Four o'clock "half an hour." He whispered.

"No wonder it's so swollen; you should have shouted me earlier. Let me go and get my bandages." He said before leaving.

Within the few seconds of john leaving; Sherlock wiped away the tears and managed to get into better position for john to bandage him up.

John came back and smiled at Sherlock "We'll have you fixed up very soon okay? Now take these, they're pain killers." He handed two tablets and a glass of water to Sherlock. Sherlock took the tablets and john wrapped his ankle up with the bandages gently and carefully.

"Thank you." Sherlock said after john was finished.

"It's fine. You still should have shouted me earlier though. By the way, what happened?"

"i-uh-I fell." Sherlock answered and turned his head so john couldn't see him.

"What, out of bed?" john asked, eyebrows furrowed. Sherlock nodded with his head still turned away. "How?" john asked tilting his head. "No, wait. I think I've figured it out."

Sherlock looked at him again "you have?"

"Yes, Sherlock did you have a nightmare?"

Sherlock turned his head away again and nodded.

"Sherlock, nightmares aren't something to be embarrassed about, well they can be but don't be, not in front of me. I have them, I'm sure you hear them?"

"Sometimes," Sherlock spoke quietly "Then I play the violin for you. Outside your room."

"See, I have them it's not something to be weird about in front of me… you really should have shouted me though; when you fell." He gave a sympathetic smile

"I thought that you'd be angry at half three in the morning and-and." His voice trailed off when he felt johns hand brush against his. He had to resist the urge to grab hold of it, after all John was straight.

"Sherlock your ankle is sprained. I wasn't angry and I wouldn't have been either. God you are an idiot some times." John said smiling

"Tell me about it." Sherlock said, feeling pathetic, he looked at his knees.

"Heyy, Sherlock. Look at me." John lifted Sherlock's chin up, Sherlock just looked at John. "Sherlock, what's wrong?"

"I… no nothing." Sherlock tried to turn his head again but john moved onto the bed, he sat crossed legs in front of Sherlock.

"No. Sherlock that's not what I meant. I'm not asking about the dream. You've been skittish for days and acting weird. What, Sherlock, is wrong?"

"I'm fine. I just…" his voice trailed off and he looked down at his knees again.

"You just what? Sherlock, I don't want to bully you into telling me, but it won't stop me from doing so. Sherlock I'm a doctor, I know when something is wrong, when someone starts acting weird around me."

Sherlock could think of nothing to say. He couldn't explain to john how he felt about him so he decided just to 'come out' "I'm gay." He mumbled

"What? Sherlock, what did you say?" john said leaning closer so he could hear Sherlock.

"I-uh-I said that-uh- that I was gay." He blushed.

"Right… wait are you telling me because you…?" Sherlock looked at john in the eye and suddenly felt alone, he did not want to feel alone again. Never, ever again. He looked down but squeezed his eyes shut.

"Don't leave… please? It won't get in the way and I-"

"Sherlock, what on earth gave you that idea?"

"the-you… what?"

"What gave you the idea of me leaving?"

Sherlock's eyebrows furrowed "you're not creeped out?"

John shook his head "no." he leaned towards Sherlock and pecked his lips. "That's how creeped out I am."

"You-you-you just kissed me?"

"Yes I did. Did you not want me to?" john went red with embarrassment; it was his turn to look away. Sherlock cupped his cheek and brought him in for a kiss. Sherlock pressed his lips to johns and left them there for a few moments then pulled back.

"So you did want me to?" john grinned, Sherlock nodded with a smile. "Sherlock, tell me the god's honest truth…"

"Yeah? What's up?"

"Have you… am i… am I your… err… first?"

"Yes… is that a problem?" he pulled his puppy dog face.

"No is it fuck a problem. It's cute. You're cute." He pressed his lips against Sherlock's.