A/N: Hello!^^ It's been awhile since I've written fanfiction, but I am excited to participate in this December's challenge.

Day 1, from cjnwriter: Insomnia.

The chilly night pressed in at the windows, creeping through the cracks and seeping through his blankets. John tucked the quilt up above his nose, sighing softly. The cold ached in his old wounds.

He rose stiffly, drawing a robe around his shoulders. Adding another log to the fire, he glanced at the clock on the mantle.

Half past three.

"Good heavens," he muttered, grimacing. And with an appointment at eight.

Shivering, he turned back to his bed.

With one hand on the covers, he paused.

An unidentifiable sound was drifting up from the ground floor. Curiosity peaked, he exited the bedroom and crept out onto the stairs.

There below, his housemate was wide awake, bustling between several stacks of paper. He was in his dressing gown, seemingly impervious to the chill.

John watched for a moment as he scribbled notes and began to draw a diagram.

Halfway through, he paused and scowled.

"No, of course that's not it," his friend muttered, "that would be absurd."

The detective erased the diagram and started over.

Several lamps ringed the room, casting a warm glow on the busy workspace. John squinted down. He recognized the top paper, it was a news clipping—a case they'd reached a dead end on three weeks previously.

Fatigue at last began to grip John's mind, along with a strong desire to return to his blankets. Before he spun to go, he spared one last look at the detective.

A smile crossed his face.

How many lives, he wondered, had been changed because the great Sherlock Holmes was suffering from insomnia?