AN: Wow thanks so much for the alerts and the comments! I was nervous about posting this story at first, but I'm glad you all like it!

On to chapter 3

DISCAMLER: Sherlock belongs to bbc not me!

When Sherlock returned to his flat later that night, John was still fast asleep. Sherlock laid his coat upon the couch and was about to relax, when he heard yet another whimper come from upstairs. Sherlock debated whether or not to go see John, but his internal debate ended when yet another small cry sounded from him. In a slow, human speed, he crept upstairs being careful not to wake John. Sherlock re-entered the room which he fled from not 3 hours ago and approached the troubled figure shifting uncomfortably in his sleep.

Sherlock kneeled beside John's bed, watching his eye lids flutter in his sleep. With Sherlock's hunger now sated, he was able to be close to John without feeling the need to bite into his neck and drain him dry. Instead he stroked it, almost possessively. Sherlock did consider waking his friend, although he doubted he wanted to be woken up at 3am in the morning with work to go to that day. Sherlock sighed, there was nothing he could do for John while he slept. He was about to leave and return to his own room for the morning when John mumbled, "Sherlock". He had stopped kicking in his sleep, sighing, his breathe returned to normal

"Interesting", Sherlock said under his breath. He began to run his fingers along John's jaw, appreciating the strong structure. A small part of Sherlock's brain told him to take a quick bike, that John would never know; but the bigger part of Sherlock's brain said to enjoy the time he had, that it may never happen again where he could calm John in his sleep.

Sherlock started to stroke John's cheek, feeling the warmth emanating from his sleeping form. John turned unconsciously into the touch, moaning softly. Sherlock froze for a second; he didn't understand what he was doing, what he was feeling or why he was even in John's room. Just as he was about to pull away, John grabbed his arm hugging it tightly to himself. Sherlock could have just ripped his hand away from John, but that would have woken him; instead he shifted onto the mattress to accommodate for the weird angle his arm was being hugged at.

Staring at John's sleeping form, Sherlock began to think how much the doctor meant to him now. 'NO', Sherlock thought to himself, 'I was just calming him down was all, he was having a nightmare, that's all'. 'WHY DO I CARE', he shouted in his brain. He's never cared before, he didn't have time for that kind of luxury, so why now?

John started shaking around his arm, the nightmare returning. Instinctually Sherlock reached over with his free hand, pulling John up close to him. He held John tight, messaging his back, whispering kind words until John started to relax again. Sherlock grinned at this small achievement, continuing to rub John's Shoulder blade. 'Why indeed', he chuckled to himself.

Sherlock lost track of time, studying John's sleeping form, slowing coming to terms with his new found feelings. He had many flatmates over his long life, but he had never felt the way that he now feels with John. 'So… not platonic then', Sherlock smiled, not even knowing why. 'How… interesting'. Sherlock tried to think back to a time where he had felt this way, but couldn't recall a single one. 'so… John's the first then'. He made a new room in his mind palace and labeled it John, then began to re-examine all his interactions with the doctor, trying to figure out what made him special.

Sherlock was distracted by John's rhythmic breathing, slowing beginning not to care when it had started, or rather that he would simply figure it out later and not waste any time he had left. Just as the thought crossed his mind, John began to stir. Cursing his luck, Sherlock vanished in a swirling mist of black smoke.

John sat straight up, swearing he sensed someone else's presence. After looking around the room, John sighed and resigned himself to getting up and making himself some tea and toast. It wasn't until John and left the room that Sherlock poofed out of the closet.

'Having to resort to hiding in a closet, how childish..', Sherlock thought to himself, as he straitened his suit. 'My room is directly below Johns so if I jump … about 6 and 1/2 feet in space downward I should land on my bed.' Sherlock closed his eyes and the let black smoke engulfe him, making him reappear in his own room, 2 feet from the floor and 4 from the bed. He landed on his back with a loud thud, causing his lamp to fall to the floor as well.

"Sherlock what was that?", John called from the kitchen, "What did you break this time?". To this Sherlock grinned, 'well it's your fault for distracting me'.

"Not to worry John, it was just my lamp", Sherlock replied while getting up.

"Why did I hear two thuds then Sherlock?", Sherlock heard John sigh while saying this. Damn, he was getting more observant.

"If you must know, I fell out of bed", the great sleuth really couldn't think of another excuse, so he told John the near truth, he was aiming for it after all.

"You ok mate?", John said, holding back a laugh. Sherlock heard John's footsteps approaching his room, faster than lightning Sherlock undressed from his suit flinging the clothing somewhere across his desk. John was almost to the door when Sherlock had located his pajama's, slipping them on faster than necessary, almost ripping them. Just when John was at the door, Sherlock put on his blue silk rope and leaped for the bed.

John pushed open the door to see Sherlock on the floor with just his calves on the bed. He had his hands clasped together, in what John had come to call 'the thinking pose'.

"Yes John I'm fine, I doubt falling from my bed could cause any true harm", Sherlock said with a striate face. John almost broke out laughing at this.

"So.. what are you doing then?", John asked.

"Contemplating why I fell of course", Sherlock replied without a movement. It was half true, he was curious as to why John could confuse him enough to make his miscalculate the distance to his own bed.

"Of course, want a cuppa?", John inquired, not offering to make food for the man because he simply wouldn't eat it.

"Yes please", Sherlock said. He waited for John to leave before opening his eyes. He leapt to his feet and couldn't shake the smile from his face. 'This… this is new, this shall be interesting', He thought to himself happily, leaving his room to join John for breakfast.

AN: I know the first three chapters were a bit short, but it just felt right to separate them. Not to worry the next couple of chapters will be a bit longer! Next chapter starts Tgg :)