Keeper: Sherlock Holmes
(Sequel: How to tame John Watson)
John was on his feet, pacing through their living room as Sherlock came home from a case that evening. Or better the joke of a case. The nervous energy was everywhere and even before Sherlock entered the flat he knows something is wrong. John wasn't in his best mood for a few days now but it could have been the effect of Sherlock´s latest experiment with the vegetables. It wasn't his fault that John hadn't checked the cucumber before he had used it for his salad.
Sherlock sits down in his chair watching John pacing but he says nothing. John would share his problem or his thoughts if he is ready, there were no way Sherlock would push it and risk to anger the doctor. Anyway Sherlock can imagine what his friend is thinking.
"…Sherlock?" John had stopped and looked hesitated in Sherlock´s general direction.
"Yes, John." He had waited long enough but he wouldn't push the topic. Let John do the talking.
"Nothing, forget it. Sorry." John turned around to leave the room. Sherlock sighs, gets up faster than John could notice the change in position and catches Johns wrist with his hand.
"John, we talked about it, right. You tell me when it will happen again and I will stay with you to prevent another incident like the last time." Sherlock´s voice was steady and calm.
"…how did you know?" It was fascinating that John could be sometimes brilliant like no other person Sherlock knows (except maybe Mycroft) and then ignore every sign that shouts the answer for his question in his face. Sherlock answered his question with a look that told John everything he needs to know. ´Obvious´ defeated John let his head sink.
"Mine or your bedroom?" John´s head snapped up. Surprised by that question or Sherlock asking or whatever was wrong with it.
"What would you prefer? My bed is bigger but your room would give you some kind of familiarity. I guess it is better when we lock the door and we both can try to sleep. I know you are tired and I haven´t slept in two no wait today is Monday so it would be three days so it means I could take some too." John looked with an open mouth at Sherlock, frozen in his thoughts. "John?"
"Yours…?" Sherlock smiled at the shocked face of his friend.
"Perfect, mine it is. Are you hungry or would you prefer to go to bed now?" John shakes his head. "Then get ready for bed or how you prepare for it and meet me in my room." Sherlock let go of John´s wrist and walked to the bathroom to get ready for the night. John walks upstairs slowly, confused a bit overstain with the whole situation but he gets ready by changing into an old pants, shirt and pajama trousers.
Sherlock was already in his night clothes as John enters the room after a hesitated knocking at the door. He had to feel John´s insecurity because without mention it he leads John to his bed, gets inside, moves over to the other site and lifts the blanked to signal him to follow. While John lies down he watches Sherlock to make sure he really was okay with it and isn't just doing it because he had promised it after a night with a monster. But all John could see was confident and a very tired detective. Smiling a bit by the last finding John climbed into the bed with his friend.
Sherlock moved closer, not quite cuddling but touching lightly at his arms, knees and hands. Enough to make sure John can feel his present. Slowly John relaxes and Sherlock begins to dive off into sleep.
This peaceful atmosphere was erased the second John felt the change. The transformation had begun without him panicing the last hour, what alone speaks much about the sleeping present of his friend, speaking of Sherlock how could he risk the life of that man. How could he even stay in the same room or better in the same bed. He will hurt Sherlock or worse kill him. He could lose it completely, wake up at the other side of town and find him in pieces when he comes home.
Now John was in panic, not even the pain while his body is changing could distract him form the fear. Carefully to not disturb Sherlock in his sleep John tries to untangle himself from the sheets to …run far away. There was no better way he would run away to not hurt his friend.
Suddenly an arm lies around his body, over his shoulders and pulls him down again. Sherlock had turned in his sleep and uses his very warm body (because of the transformation, John´s body heat rises) and snuggles into his site. John wasn't sure whether Sherlock did it on purpose or a natural reaction of someone who doesn't want to lose his bedpartner but anyway John was trapped and couldn't get out without waking up Sherlock.
Minutes past and John´s fear to hurt his friend grows. His blood begins to boil, or it feels that way, his bones are bending to change into its new form, his skin aches and brakes to grow over his newly formed body, fur grows. Pain and darkness arrived around him but John is used to it. With every second of the transformation he loses another part of his conscious until nothing but a beast is left, a beast that will hurt Sherlock. Yet the all-consuming darkness hasn't swallowed him completely. John was still aware of his surrounding; he wasn't himself but not the beast ether.
Sherlock didn't wake up doing his change to John´s amazement; he cuddles closer to John and buries his head into the warm and soft fur of the beast. John´s body was now nearly double his size and offers enough area to snuggle in. John had never thought of Sherlock as a cuddler but the more surprising thing was that his mind was present enough to watch his friend. It was Sherlock´s touch that grounded him, as far as John could tell.
John felt save, safer than ever before in his life since the day of his first transformation. He could trust Sherlock to stay and keep him sane while he could trust himself not to hurt his friend accidentally. Without intention to do so John, as tired as he was hadn't planned to sleep anytime soon but next to the sleeping Sherlock it was easy to drive off too.
The morning sun tickled Sherlock´s eyes and let him slowly wake up. He felt rested and very much ready for the day. He rarely sleeps that well, there is always something that distract him or wakes him uninspected or his brain can´t shut up but not today he feels the warmth of another human very close. Opening his eyes he can confirm that John lies across his chest, caged in Sherlock´s arms. Nothing gives the expression that John was distressed the night, the only evidence of the turning was the fur that lays everywhere around them and a few shed bedsheets, where claws had ripped the material, not forcefully more during movement in his sleep.
Unconscious Sherlock begins to caress John´s back, soft, careful not to wake the man resting on him. But far too soon John stirred in his sleep and follows Sherlock´s comforting touch back to awareness.
John mumbles words Sherlock didn't understand until he stops as he opens his eyes. Surprised as far as Sherlock can read his face.
"Good morning Sherlock." John says, still a bit sleepy. He doesn't move or comment about the change in sleeping arrangement.
"Morning. Hungry?" Sherlock answers smiling. "You see, nothing had happened, we and everyone else was as save as every night in London."
"You were right, like always." John gets up, laughing and pulls Sherlock with him. "Breakfast, I´m starving." So far it concerns Sherlock that ´sharing a bed thing´ could be a permanent arrangement. But he wouldn't ask right now. John was too distracted and happy with the fact that he hadn't killed someone this night and wouldn't when he stays with Sherlock.