A/N: Here is part 3! Enjoy!

I could hear no movement from behind the door. I pictured him frozen, hoping that I would go away when I heard nothing. He should know I would not leave him alone so easily. I knocked again.

"Holmes, open the door!" I called a little louder, mindful of Mrs. Hudson. Finally, there was a rush of movement, and the door was yanked open.

"What?!" Holmes snapped. He stood before me, his damp hair sticking to a pale face livid with anger, and embarrassment.

"Holmes, are you alright?" I asked, though it was obvious he was not. "I heard—"

"I am perfectly well, Doctor!" He said stridently, and made to shut the door. I stepped closer, stopping the door's swing with my foot.

"I beg to differ." He took a moment to breathe through clenched teeth, and I felt my concern increase. Never had I seen him have to put so much effort into staying in control. The nightmares must have been worse than I thought.

"You can differ all you like." He said, in a calmer voice. "I am, however, fine." He again pulled on the door. His face darkened when I refused to remove my foot, and he growled. "Watson, move your foot."

"I will not. You are not well."

"Whether I am or not, it's no business of yours!"

"Isn't it?" My frown deepened. "And who has patched you up through countless injuries, seen you through illness and depression?"

"Watson, just leave me be!" He ripped open the door, since I still wouldn't let him close it, stalking across the room to his tobacco stash. I turned and followed him, standing in front of him, my arms akimbo.

"Holmes, as your Doctor, and as your friend, I cannot allow you to—"

"To what, pray tell? Keep things private from you? Decide how to manage my own thoughts? He clutched his hand around his unlit pipe, glaring at me.

"Holmes you and I both know that the whole Moriarty affair was a terrible time for the both of us. It is bound to come up in our dreams; we've never even discussed much of it. It has no other outlet." I still had a calm voice, but I was getting angry.

"The Moriarty Affair? Did you come up with that ridiculously romantic title yourself?"

"I haven't even written up that case Holmes!" I said heatedly.

"It doesn't matter. It will be the same as all the rest, a gross misrepresentation of my methods, and character. You will create yet another children's adventure story out of my scientific processes."

My temper flared.

"My writing is the cause of the majority of your business! How many cases were you getting at Montague Street?" I realized we were heading off onto a tangent. "And we were discussing your nightmares!"

"You were discussing," Holmes hissed. "Besides which, there are none to discuss, since I'm not having any!"

"And the sounds I heard were the pleasant dreams of happy man were they?"

"You were listening." It wasn't a question.

"I—" I couldn't deny it.

"Of course you would wait outside my door, ready to burst in and save me from myself." His voice took on a mocking, cloying tone. "Heroic Watson ready to aid the needy and pathetic souls who cannot deal with life on their own. Especially his so-called best friend. The depressed, drug addict Holmes." His eyes narrowed, and his voice became hard and brittle. "I have no need of your assistance."

"Then why are you still shaking?" I was nearly shouting now, anger coursing through me.

"You, sir, have no right to pry into my affairs!"

I breathed heavily for a moment, and he did the same.

"No," I finally said, anger, bitterness, and remorse all battling for dominance. "No, I don't have a right. I suppose I thought that as your friend, I had that privilege." I turned from his, glancing back. "It appears I was mistaken. "

With that, I left Holmes in the sitting room, with his white hand still wrapping tightly around his cherry wood pipe.

A/N: Phew! That was tough to write, I was literally shaking when I finished the final version. Poor guys. Let me know what you thought, if it was too...anything, emotional, angry...etc :)