John woke up the next day in a cold sweat. Luckily, the nightmare hadn't been about his best friend jumping off a rooftop- this time, it had been Afghanistan. He hadn't been able to save a man with dark, curly hair. The man had been shot in the chest right in front of John.
Shaking these thoughts out of his head, John stood up and stretched. His back cracked, and he made his way downstairs. Sherlock was already up and making tea for them both.
"John... How's your leg?" Sherlock asked, trying to sound casual.
"Oh. It's um, it's fine, now." The way John phrased it, Sherlock could tell that it had been bad when he was gone.
Sherlock also knew John had trust issues. He had eating disorders and PTSD symptoms again. Sherlock had seen how thin John was, and how he flinched slightly when a stranger talked to him. John had been having flashbacks, nightmares, trouble sleeping, and other symptoms of PTSD.
Sherlock knew all of this- it was obvious. But what wasn't obvious to John was the scars up Sherlock's back, the needle marks on his arm, and the tender, rather large bruise on his leg.
Sherlock had been tortured while he was gone. He had fought gunmen, brought some of them to Mycroft to take care of, even resorted to killing some of them- but he had also been tortured.
Of course, Sherlock didn't want John to know. It was natural- hiding the burns and cuts. But he had to tell his flatmate eventually. He decided now would be the best time.
"John... can we... talk?" Sherlock asked cautiously.
"Sure," John replied.
So Sherlock told John the story. Of the kidnapping and the pain and the torturing. John sat there, taking it all in. When Sherlock finally finished his story, John let out a rush of air.
"Wow, Sherlock... I never new."
They both sat there in silence for a while, before John got up and embraced Sherlock in a hug.
"I'm sorry you had to go through that," John muttered in Sherlock's ear. He knew how much pain Sherlock had been in, and how hard it was to confess that.
They stood there for a couple of minutes, breathing in each other's scent.
Finally, they pulled back and looked each other in the eye. Sherlock knew John had been through some trouble while he was gone, but he could take his time.
A/N: Alright! I felt guilty about the last chapter being so short, so this one is much longer. Tomorrow, decorating! I'll take any suggestions into consideration! Please review!
