For what feels like several decades I've been working on a proper Reichenbach reunion fic and getting nowhere, so I knocked out this quick ficlet to make up for it. Nothing like a healthy bit of Johnlock angst.
Anyway, chuck some reviews in my general direction.
And I don't own anything, obviously.
I'm Right Here
John woke with a start, gasping for breath like he had just surfaced from deep water. Cold sweat was making the bed sheets stick to his skin. The images were still sharp in his mind, blood and sand, screaming and gunfire, and falling, always falling. His shaking hands groped in his bed from something, and anchor to stop him drowning in this feeling of fear.
"Shhh, John. It's okay, I'm here."
Long, pale fingers entwined with John's, holding on tightly. Sherlock's sharp features were illuminated eerily in the glow of the open laptop that had been placed haphazardly on the bedside table, a look of worry and concern etched on the otherworldly face, a kind of look that only John was privileged enough to bear witness to.
"It was just a nightmare, John. It's okay. I'm right here."
Sherlock pulled John up to a sitting position, wrapping his long arms around John's trembling shoulders and holding him close. John pressed his face into Sherlock's pyjama covered chest, taking deep shuddering breaths as tears stung his eyes. John clung onto Sherlock for dear life, like he had to prove to himself that the detective was definitely right there next to him, that he was real and whole, that there was breath in his lungs and a heartbeat in his chest. Sherlock could tell from how hard he was being squeezed exactly what John had been dreaming about, and he sighed as he held onto John just as tight.
"I'm right here, John. And I'm never going to leave you. Not again. Not ever. I promise you, John Holmes-Watson, that I will never do that to you again."
John buried his face in Sherlock's neck, shaking as he gave into his tears. His quiet sobs were muffled against Sherlock's skin as the detective whispered words of comfort, his baritone voice as soothing as a balm.
"I'm so sorry for what I did to you all those years ago, John. It was the only way I could protect you from Moriarty and his men. I had to keep you safe, even if it meant breaking your heart, because from the day we met you have meant the world to me."
John's sobs began to subside and his heartbeat gently slowed to a more regular pace. But he still clung onto Sherlock with an unwavering grip, almost as if he was afraid Sherlock might disappear into thin air at any moment. And Sherlock still held John just as close, knowing instinctively that the doctor needed it more than anything right now.
"I promise you, John, that I will never leave you again. You have nothing to be afraid of. I'll always be right here."
Sherlock gently stroked John's hair, prepared to hold his lover for as long as it took, when the high-pitched sound of crying suddenly came from the bedroom downstairs. Sherlock kissed the top of John's head.
"I'll go see to Hamish, I was awake anyway. You need to get some sleep, John. I'll be right back."
John untangled himself from his husband, taking many deep breaths to calm himself down, watching Sherlock in the glow of the laptop as he climbed out of bed and went to check on their crying son. It had all just been a nightmare, a horribly vivid nightmare, but a nightmare all the same. Sherlock was right, of course. John had no reason to be so afraid. Sherlock wasn't going to leave, not again, not ever.
Hope you enjoyed, Humble Readers.
xxx