Sherlock Holmes had announced himself to be alive just under 3 days ago now, there was not many people that knew, just Lestrade, Mycroft, Molly, Mrs Hudson and of course John. John was worrying Sherlock. The doctor has sat and listened calmly to the Consulting detective talk about how he had faked his own death and what he had been doing whilst he had been away from John. And John had just sat there. There was no change in emotion on the man's face but Sherlock knew he was listening. In fact John had not just been listening, but he had been hanging off Sherlock's every word.

John had not gone out of the flat since then, in fact John had hardly moved since then. He made himself food and tea but it was as if he was on autopilot, there was no effort or thought in the action, which made Sherlock wonder where the other man's thoughts were exactly. What was John thinking about so deeply that he could simply not focus on anything else. After the first day however Sherlock realised that John had switched from tea to coffee and he was currently drinking it as if his life depended on it.

Sherlock rolled over on the bed he was lying in, which was his from before the 'fall, and looked over at the clock that was illuminating the room.
3:36 AM
and John was still sat outside, in the chair, Sherlock knew he was, he never heard the man get up and move meaning he was still there. Sherlock could not take it anymore. He swung his legs out the bed and stood up wrapping his favourite blue dressing gown around his shoulders before walking out into the front room of the flat they shared.

Much as Sherlock guessed he would be, John was sat in the chair, the arm chair he loved to sit in so much, his eyes were staring blankly, dark circles underneath his eyes. Another coffee cup in his hands although it had gone cold some time ago. John had not slept since Sherlock's return he observed. Sherlock padded over to John and sunk down into a crouch in front of the Doctor.
"John?" Said Sherlock, tenderness coating his voice.
"You need to go to sleep John, it is not healthy you going this long without even a nap, you are a Doctor you should know this."
"I can't" Replied John, his voice saturated with tiredness.
"Why can't you sleep?" Asked Sherlock, that questioning tone in his voice that John had missed so much. John answered in a small voice,
"Because if I close my eyes, and I sleep, I am so scared that you will be gone when I wake up. I have seen you all the time since you fell, wandering around London, around the flat, but every single time I fell asleep you disappeared. I don't think I can deal with you disappearing again." A tear fell out of John's eye. His voice became even quieter and Sherlock knew that is he had been any further away he would not have heard the next words that were uttered from the Doctors lips. "I don't think my heart can break anymore, I don't know what I will do Sherlock."
Sherlock sighed, tears swimming in his own eyes.
"Oh, John, what I have I done to you?" Sherlock sat for about half a minute before rising to his feet and holding his hand out to John.

"I have a way to get rid of your problem; you will sleep with me tonight. Then when you wake in the morning you will feel me next to you and know I have not disappeared."
"That could work." Said John, a dead tone in his voice.

So Sherlock made his way back into his bedroom John following him. The two got undressed down to their boxer shorts and climbed into the bed. It did not take long at all before John drifted off to sleep, his hand clutching Sherlock's wrist. A normal person would probably not pick up on it but Sherlock knew that the doctor had positioned his fingers directly over Sherlock's pulse point.

Sherlock did not sleep once that night. John moved closer into Sherlock, so close that now the fair hair of his best friend was lying on his chest, where John had placed his head. Sherlock stared at the celling, wondering just how broken John had become because of Sherlock.

Morning came, Sherlock had never moved once, never jostling the body that was lain partly on top of him. There was a few times when Sherlock felt John's body tense up with a nightmare, or when he would hear his own name fall from the older man's lip's in a pleading fashion, each time Sherlock had tightened his grip, squeezing slightly re assuring silently that he was still there.

John's eyelids flickered open, not all that later, nearly as soon as his eyes focused, John shot up.
"Your still here." Said John, total astonishment in his voice.
"Yes I am." Replied Sherlock
"You didn't vanish, you really are back." Said John, excitement now also tainting his voice.
"I'm back." Sherlock propped himself up on his elbow so he was face to face with his best friend.
"And I promise you John, I am not leaving again anytime soon." Sherlock put his arms round and John and pulled him into a hug.

They both smiled, they knew it would take a while but they both knew that from here things would only get better for the pair.