"Watson Go!"
He is hesitant, but he knows he is the only one in position to do this. He ducks into the two story building, makes his way down the hall, up the stairs, no problem. No Guards, God, this is strange. He thought as he made his way down the hall. There was one room on each side of the hall and one at the far end. He checked the first room, then ducked into the next room, both clear he moved back into the hall. In an instant he heard shots fired and he dove back into the room, but almost not quick enough. A bullet had grazed his shoulder, an inch or two inwards and he could have lost the use of his arm. Shit! He inched back to the door and returned fire. Peeking out and then ducking back into cover. But the shots just kept coming.
I have to end this. He thought.
So he waited. And then there was a pause and the clatter of a Magazine hitting the floor. It was his chance. He stepped into the hallway, but he'd misjudged. BANG! Pain ripped through his leg as he fired back. He heard a grunt and the sound of a body hitting the floor. But he didn't process it. He kept moving. He limped down the hall, his gun at the ready when he entered the room there was one more enemy soldier. So he fired and another body hit the floor.
Then he was on his knees. He didn't remember falling to them. Then he was on his stomach and he could see the face of the first soldier. Good God he's just a boy.
"Watson!" his commander yelled.
"Watson!" No, the voice was too soft.
"Watson, Wake up." God, his voice was annoying.
"Watson." Sherlock.
He snapped awake with a gasp. Sherlock's hands were on his shoulders, a worried look on his face. As soon as Sherlock saw he was awake he pulled his hands back, nervously wiping his hands on his t-shirt as John sat up.
"Thank you." He said, he wanted to cry. It wasn't very manly of him so he held it back.
"Are you okay." Sherlock asked.
"God no."
"Another nightmare from Afghanistan." A statement, not a question.
"The worst one." He whispered as a tear ran down his cheek. Dammit not in front of Him. But the tears didn't stop.
Sherlock stopped for a minute, unsure of what to do. But then acting on something that he didn't normally allow in his mind, he pulled his friend into a hug and let him sob into his shoulder.
They stayed in that embrace. Eventually John fell asleep. Sherlock, not wanting to wake him, pulled him closer and leaned back until they were laying side by side. He held his friend close and eventually drifted off to sleep. When Sherlock woke the next morning John was still wrapped in his arms. He untangled himself, careful not to wake John. He then slipped out of the bed and made his way to his own room.
John listened to the door click shut. His friend gone, he wished he'd come back. And little did he know, Sherlock wished he hadn't left.
Authors Note: Hey guys thanks for reading I hope you enjoyed.This was an idea that came to me a while ago and I finally wrote it down. It's my first Sherlock FanFic so please Review and let me know what you think.