John Watson awoke with a start, sitting straight up in bed and panting. He'd had his usual nightmare again. He had been so sure that with Sherlock back, they would have gone away by now. But they hadn't. And it was because John was scared to death that Sherlock would leave him again.

He sat up and put his face in his hands. He tried to stop the tears that were threatening, but to no avail. The tears leaked quickly and when he took a moment to try to steady his breathing, his hands began to shake, his lower lip quivering as he tried not to cry. And that's when he snapped, a choked sob leaving the back of his throat. John was positive that Sherlock was downstairs right now, working on an experiment, trying to ignore John's frantic cries. Before Sherlock left, ever since they'd moved in together, Sherlock had ignored it. But there was something different now, in Sherlock's mind, something strange.

Even though Sherlock had wanted to help John with his nightmares from the moment he found out about them, he really wanted to help with these. Because they were caused by him. This thought struck Sherlock as he heard John cry out tonight. It was his fault that John was going through this pain and there was nothing he could do about it. Well... Almost nothing.

John's hands were covering his eyes as he took deep breaths and tried to calm himself. He was still shaking, and he knew it would be a few minutes before he was content again. He felt the bed sink to one side for a moment, and then cold hands pull his own away from his face.

"Are you alright?" Sherlock asked gently, crossing his legs on the bed. Gently? Sherlock didn't have a "gentle" voice, thought John. But this was pretty damn gentle.

John nodded a bit, but his hands were still shaking, even in Sherlock's grasp. "Just a nightmare."

"Worse than usual."

"Not really," John lied.

Sherlock rolled his eyes, not wanting to argue with John now. "You're sure you're alright?" he asked seriously.

"Mhm." John muttered. He knew the nightmares would probably come back in an hour or so. Why did Sherlock care now, anyway? Not that John was complaining... Something inside of him didn't really want Sherlock to leave.

"You're lying."

"How do you know?"

"Your responses become shorter and you mutter when you lie." Sherlock stated. John sighed.

"Okay, fine, they'll probably be back in an hour or so." he pulled his hands away. "Why do you care, anyway?"

Sherlock paused. He didn't want to tell the truth. "You won't be awake for the case tomorrow." he lied.

Something sank in John's stomach. Here he was, thinking that Sherlock actually cared for once. "Right." he cleared his throat. "Sorry for disturbing you." he mumbled, turning so he was on his side, his back to Sherlock. "You can go back to your experiment now." There was a pause, and then the bed lifted. John heard Sherlock's footsteps move towards the door, and then they stopped.

"You're still shaking." Sherlock whispered observantly.

"Just a bit." John responded, wondering why Sherlock was pressing the matter. Then suddenly, the bed dipped down again, and John felt Sherlock sit down beside him.

"What are you doing?" John asked, looking up at Sherlock.

"Making sure you don't have another nightmare." Sherlock responded simply.

"Why would it help with you being here?" Of course, John knew the answer to that. There was a short pause.

"Because it's my fault." Sherlock whispered. Another pause. This one lasted seconds, but felt like minutes, maybe hours. John turned over and curled up into Sherlock's side, not saying a word. Sherlock didn't quite know how to respond to this. After an awkward moment, he put an arm around John protectively, pulling the blankets up around both of them. "'Night, John." Sherlock said quietly. John was already asleep.