"I will burn the heart out of you."
Sherlock shot up from sleep and almost fell off the couch. He was breathing hard and shaking a little as the threatening words of Jim Moriarty echoed inside his head. He rubbed his temples furiously and tried to get the sentence out of his head. Tired to convince himself that he was too fast, too clever, for Moriarty to ever be able to get to him. But the truth was, he was scared. The threat had rocked him to the core, especially since it had been delivered while John had a bomb strapped to his chest. Moriarty, the Consulting Criminal, would do anything to get his way. And that included burning any part of Sherlock's body he wanted too. Even his heart.
A stifled sob came out as a choke. "You OK?" John asked from his chair by the fire. He'd been watching Sherlock ever since he'd jolted awake.
"Yes. Fine. Just a bad dream." Sherlock shook his dark curls in an attempt to clear his mind.
"But you don't get bad dreams." John moved over to the couch. "Do you want to talk about it?"
"I just can't stop thinking about what Moriarty said." Sherlock admitted.
John put an arm around his friend, "Sherlock, as long as I'm here, nothing will burn."