"You clearly aren't sleeping well, John. Tell me what's keeping you up."

He stared at her blankly. His eyes were not sad. They were simply broken. His entire face sagged. Dark shadows were smudged under his eyes, painted by a long, patient thumb that visited every night.

"Nothing."

"Are you keeping your dream journal?"

His fingers twitched, remembering the cool surface of the pen.

Remembering the slick sweat making it slip from his grasp, the shaking of his hands as he tried to regain control over his body.

Remembering his struggle to breathe, to simply take air from the outside, process it, let it back out.

Remembering the words, written in the early hours of the morning before the sun rose, when it was still dark.

Dark like the blood that tricked from his head.

Dark like the dizzying spots that appeared on his vision, as he took in the sight.

Dark like his cloak, spread out around him like huge black wings. They didn't work, and he didn't fly.

"May I see?"

John focused desperately on keeping his hand steady, as he gave the small book up to her. It shook anyway. She hesitated just a moment, watching in the book shuddering in his grasp, before taking it from him.

She opened it, and flicked through the pages, bloated with damp. She guessed at rain. John guessed at sweat and tears.

She read through several entries, her face softening into the most hated of expressions – pity.

"John, you know I can give you medication for these. You don't have to suffer though this every night."

He said nothing.

"Why didn't you tell me before?"

He reached out his hand for the book.

"John. I can get you a referral and you can get medication to stop the nightmares."

"It's-" He faltered. She gave him back the book, and he held it to his chest. "No."

"Are you sure? It won't affect you, we can get ones without side-effects-"

"I said no."

His face was angry now. Contorted.

She could see a small flame burning in the cracks of his exterior, that had shattered at the same time as Sherlock's skull on the pavement.

"It's the only time I see his face."

The flame died, and was replaced with only darkness.

"And I wouldn't give that up for anything."