John was leaning on the door frame and watched the sleeping form of Sherlock. Usually, before everything that had happened, it was a rare sight, but it was like Sherlock hadn't slept at all the past few years that he was away. Now that he was back, he seemed to be always sleeping. John envied his friend, who seemed to sleep so well, being back at home, because John still had his nightmares. And he was more tired than ever.
With a sigh, he straightened up and moved towards the kitchen to make some tea to calm his nerves. He didn't put the light on, instead just making tea and remembering where everything was. When he turned to walk past the table, he swore when his leg hit the chair, and he pulled it away. In the sitting room, there were some lights that came from the street outside, and he slowly walked beside the window.
Outside, it was as quiet as inside the flat.
No people. No cars.
John sipped his tea.
Two weeks.
Sherlock had been back at home for two whole weeks now.
He didn't notice the silent movements at the door, and was startled when Sherlock spoke, still unused to someone else's presence.
And Sherlock's voice.
"John?"
John turned and smiled sadly. "Not morning yet."
"I can see that. Is everything alright?" Sherlock moved closer, and John could feel the tension around his friend, how unsure he was of what to do.
"Yes," John lied.
"No it isn't." Sherlock was now an arm's length away from him, and grabbed the teacup before it fell to the floor. John hadn't noticed how much his hand's were trembling.
"Just nightmares," John admitted, and flinched when Sherlock touched his arm lightly before retreating.
"I'm sorry, John." Sherlock seemed to be lost about what to say and do, and John turned away.
"I know, and I have forgiven you. It's okay now." But it wasn't okay. Not yet.
"John..." Sherlock hesitated, but fell silent. John looked outside, not seeing anything, his mind blank. Then he felt his friend's touch again and tensed. Sherlock slowly and carefully stepped closer, and before John realised it, Sherlock was hugging him, his face burrowed in John's neck.
"Sher..."
"Hush. I'm here, John," Sherlock murmured, and slowly John relaxed.
They stood there in the dark, Sherlock holding John, and for the first time after Sherlock had come back, John cried.
My eternal thanks to lozzabluebell who wanted to beta this story. Thank you :)