Crash!
John didn't even look up from his newspaper; he was more than used to Sherlock crashing into the flat at stupid hours in the morning. However it didn't stop him worrying that his flat mate and best friend would get a little overzealous one of these days and John would have to use his surgical skills to put him back together again.
"John" came Sherlock's smooth voice from the kitchen. "It is three am, why on earth are you still awake, go to bed."
John didn't shift his position to face Sherlock, he knew if the consultant detective caught sight of his face it would undo the massive lie that John was about to tell him.
"I couldn't sleep, I had a nightmare" he muttered, "Thought I might as well stay awake"
In truth, John would have given anything to fall asleep, he was exhausted as usual. But he was worried sick about Sherlock when he randomly walked out of the flat with no indication of when he was coming back. John really wished he wouldn't do that, it was beginning to mess up his already out of whack sleeping pattern. He wondered idly whether Sherlock had bought the lie or not but the answer became apparent when his best friend's face appeared inches in front of him and his paper was whipped out of his hands.
Sherlock's face was set, and his eyes were hard with disapproval, John knew in an instant that he hadn't believed a word of that lie, he knew John too well and now he was going to berate him for worrying unnecessarily.
"Much as I appreciate your, uh concern, John, I really am capable of taking care of myself" he said, his face still uncomfortably close to John's.
"I know," John said, leaning back, Sherlock's breath reeked of brandy, he'd been drinking again. "But I wish you'd tell me where you're going when you decide to vanish for the night. I could sleep a lot easier knowing I'm not going to wake up and find out you…" His voice trailed off at the slightly stunned look on Sherlock's face which was replaced a moment later by a slightly stormy look.
"Don't concern yourself about my night time wanderings please, I have enough common sense to not fall onto the train tracks or miss the last tube and end up stuck in Ealing" Sherlock said, walking over to his chair and sinking into it. His eyes were tired and his hair was still damp from the downpour in the street outside, he'd been walking again, John decided, like he usually did when he couldn't sleep. It was becoming more frequent as well, John was beginning to think he was some kind of insomniac.
"Before you ask, I do not have insomnia, nor do I want to get away from you, I simply wish to clear my head" said Sherlock, studying John's face, his silver-grey eyes boring seemingly into his soul, effectively answering John's unasked question. "Now please go to bed before I have to get my harpoon out"
John didn't need telling twice, he knew Sherlock would make good of his threat and he wasn't going to A & E tonight. He bolted out of his chair and hurried towards his room, pausing in the doorway to study Sherlock in his chair, staring into space. Caring about this man would be the death of him, John thought as he closed his bedroom door.
