Thunder
Sherlock groaned. If he weren't such a genius, he would think his head was on fire. No, not his head. His brain, and not for the usual reasons like being bored. Sherlock tugged on his dark curls, trying to lessen the pain that thundered like a thousand horses galloping in his brain in time with his heartbeat. God, it hurt. The light drizzle of rain on the windowpanes were too noisy.
John then came out of the kitchen with two cups of tea in his hands. His face was anxious as he slowly walked over to Sherlock, placing the steaming cup in front of his flatmate.
"Sherlock, are you okay?" he quietly asked.
Sherlock groaned again and looked up at John with obvious pain in his eyes; not bothering to answer because he knew John could read him. John softly sat down beside Sherlock on the sofa and reached over him to tug the blanket off the armrest. He then unfolded it and placed it gently over Sherlock's shoulders, before resting back against the sofa, teacup in his hand.
"Drink your tea Sherlock, maybe it will help".
Sherlock just threw John a look, because nothing helped, but pulled his hands out of his hair and gingerly took up his own cup of tea and he too fell back against the sofa. John just smiled softly and didn't say anything.
Sherlock leaned closer to John so that their bodies were touching from shoulder to knee. He looked at John with slightly pouting lips.
"John, it hurts."
John just sighed softly, said "I know", and took a sip of his tea.
Sherlock looked away, raised the cup to his lips and did the same. His eyes widened a bit, and small smile appeared on his lips. He looked at John again.
"You bought my favourite tea" he simply stated quietly.
John smiled, a grateful look in his eyes. "Everything for my favourite genius". They looked away from each other and finished their tea in silence. Soon, Sherlock sagged a little bit further down into the sofa and came to rest with his head on John's shoulder, and John rested his chin on top of Sherlock's dark curls. Sherlock sighed. The warmth of the tea plus John besides him had eased the pain a little, but it still hurt like hell.
The two men sat in silence and John soon began to doze off. Sherlock however were beginning to look a little green. Suddenly he heard a low rumble in the distance. Sherlock visibly relaxed, and shook Johns shoulders lightly, waking him from the light doze. John looked around a bit confused, but smiled in understanding when he saw Sherlocks grin. "It's coming".
Sherlock quickly stood up and walked over to the window, throwing it open. He leaned out, breathing in deep. The thunderclouds were rolling in, black and ominous. He could feel the wild clash, the power. The thunder was all around him and in his head, which felt like it would explode soon. The skies opened and rain fell heavily onto him. Lightning struck not far away, and the flash of it brightened up the whole flat. Not many seconds later the sky tore apart in violent sound, and Sherlock almost laughed aloud; the pain dulled instantly. He stood there grinning like a fool and let the rain fall in his dark curls. Finally. He had been waiting for this the whole day: for the skies to unleash its power and release him from the pain. Sherlock stood at the window a long time until the skies rolled past and took the pain with them, leaving an again high functioning and somewhat relaxed and happy genius in its wake.
From the sofa John relaxed and smiled softly while he looked at his flatmate. He knew that in just a few minutes Sherlock would be racing around the flat and putting his once again functioning brain into work. Everything was good. Some tea was in order before the next case.