Sherlock was looking down at the streets. True terror coursing threw his veins. Maybe he shouldn't do this. Maybe there was another way. Just as he was about to step back from the ledge, a pair of strong hands grasped his shoulders and shoved him off the building. He craned his neck to see Moriarty standing there, blood still gushing from his head.
"Daddy wasn't pleased Sherly." The villain cooed. The side walk got closer, closer.
Sherlocks eyes open wide, his body covered in a cold sweat. It coated his clothing, and made him feel dirty. Without a second thought he collected himself and silently walked to the room above his.
He opened the door silently, the darkened room portraying only a nightstand, queen sized bed, and a figure nestled amongst the sheets. The detective quietly walked in, shutting the door behind him.
It had been three and a half years since the fall. He had finally cut of all Moriarty's ties, and went back to London. The first person he told was John. After being punched in the face he was embraced, with quiet coos of,
"You're the biggest idiot I know." The nightmares he had suffered from sinced he'd 'jumped' were gone for the first week. He had been naive to think they were gone.
"Sh-Sherlock. What are you doing? It's-bloody 3 in the morning!" John was awake now, and was looking at Sherlock with annoyance and wonder.
"I-Dre-" The words wouldn't come, and the remembrance of it had his gut knotted with fear.
"What's the matter Sherlock?" John asked. In the dim light he could still make out the fear in the detectives eyes.
"Nightmare." Sherlock finally managed. He felt childish and embarrassment crashed over him. He felt tears prick at his eyes, but wouldn't wipe them away.
Much to his surprise John moved over in the bed, and motioned for Sherlock to get in beside him.
"Come one, before I change my mind." John said. Sherlock awkwardly slid beneath the covers and stared at John.
"Do... You want to talk about it?" The doctor asked. Sherlock shook his head.
"No." He replied firmly. John nodded and rolled over, his back to Sherlock.
"Goodnight Sherlock."
"Night John." Sherlock laid on his side and listened to how Johns breathing slowed. Pretty soon his own eyes shut, his breathing evened, and he was fast asleep.