What I've Seen
Summary: 2 months after John had seen the scars, Sherlock started having nightmares again. Everything that happened between those 2 years come spilling out, and John has to comfort him.
Kind of a sequel to Scars, but you don't necessarily have to have read it to understand this one.
One-Shot
John was up late, typing up the case they had finished that day, wanting to get it done before he went to sleep. Sherlock, for once, was actually sleeping, snoring lightly as he laid next to John on their bed. John was so wrapped up into his blog that he hadn't noticed Sherlock squirming around under the duvet.
A few moments later, Sherlock started thrashing about, hitting John in the torso. John looked over, wide-eyed, and saw Sherlock struggling in his sleep. His face was scrunched up and red, and his arms and legs thrashed about.
"No! Not John! Not John!" He screamed in his sleep, rolling over so violently he almost fell off the bed. John caught him, dragging him back on the mattress. He pinned the detective's arms and legs down, and tried to wake him up.
"Sherlock! Sherlock, love, wake up!" John yelled, shaking him out of his nightmare. Sherlock opened his eyes, which were still wild. He continued to thrash, still under the impression that he was...wherever his nightmare took place.
"I'm right here, I'm right here Sherlock. You're at Baker Street, remember? I'm here." John soothed, moving to help Sherlock sit up and wrapped his arms around him.
Sherlock hugged John back, silent tears rolling down his face that turned into heart wrenching sobs. John broke away, cupping Sherlock's face into his hands. "Sherlock? What happened in your nightmare? Please, I want to help you, but if you don't want to tell me now, it's okay. I have experience with nightmares, let me help you." John asked quietly, grasping Sherlock's hand for support. He had had nightmares himself, from his army days, but he'd never had something as bad as Sherlock did.
"I…" Sherlock stammered, unable to find the words. His nightmare was...so vivid, so frightening. He held onto John tighter just thinking about it.
"Do you want some tea?" John asked, wanting to comfort his hurting boyfriend. Sherlock nodded.
John tried to peel himself from Sherlock's grasp, but Sherlock clung to him tighter. "Don't leave me!" Sherlock leaded, his eyes filled with fright.
"Okay, love. I'm not, I'm right here. I just need to put the kettle on for you, okay?"
Sherlock nodded, slowly letting his arms fall to his side.
"Alright, love. I'll be right back, okay?"
John slowly got out of bed and made his way to the kitchen, putting the kettle on. He wondered what happened in SHerlock's dream, but knew better than to push it. He himself had had his fair share of nightmares, and knew it was not easy to talk about.
He poured Sherlock his tea and one for himself and made his way back to his and Sherlock's room.
Sherlock still sat up, holding his head in his hands, still visibly shaking. The sight broke John's heart. He sat next to his lover, setting their tea down.
He pulled Sherlock's hands from his face and looked into his multi-colored eyes. "Here, Sherlock. It'll help calm you down."
Sherlock nodded, taking a deep breath and his tea. He drank it quickly, and it did help soothe his nerves.
John set his own tea down and took Sherlock's hand. "You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to."
Sherlock shakes his head. "No, I-I have to. I can't keep...I can't keep doing this alone."
He looked at the ex-soldier. "You wonder why I started going longer without sleeping after I got back? These nightmare, they're so-" Sherlock's breath hitched, and John rubbed his back. "They're so paralyzing. It's worse because I'm watching myself, getting tortured and-and having unimaginable things done to me and I...I can't lift a finger."
John's heart shattered even more as he saw how broken his lover was. "There was so much, John. So much I had to endure. Of course, it was worth it-I did it to save you, Mrs. hudson, and Lestrade, but…" He sighed. "The worse thing, was the padded cell. I was in there for months, so many months, shackled like an animal. I was a prisoner of my own mind, and we both know how dangerous that is."
"I have so many mental scars, and they take much longer to heal than physical ones. I've almost been drowned, burned, even buried alive for a few hours. There's so much, John. So much-"
Sherlock started crying, full tears running down his cheeks. John wrapped him in his arms, just holding him. John was furious, wanting to murder everyone who did this to Sherlock, though they were already most likely killed by Sherlock himself.
"I know I have not the slightest clue how that felt. Getting shot in Afghanistan is nothing compared to what you went through." John pulled Sherlock closer to him. "But I am here, in anyway you need me. I will stay up all night, ready to wake you from nightmares, I will do anything you need me to. Yes, it will take a while for the scars to heal, but you won't be alone, Sherlock. I will be here, I will always be here."
John kisses Sherlock on his cupid-bow lips, lingering before Sherlock pulled away, looking deep into John's eyes.
"I know John, thank you."
As the sun rose up through the window, Sherlock and John stayed in their position, arms wrapped around each other, supporting each other. No words had to be said for them to know that the other loved them with all they had.
And love they did.
The ending is a bit weird but I didn't know how to word it so I hope it's okay. Thanks for reading!