I woke up with a scream, jumping up in bed. My hands gripped onto the sheets, my body shook, and I tried to get my breath. A cold sweat coated my forehead.

"Charlie?" Sherlock was wake immediately. He sat up, reading my facial expression. He waited for me to say something.

"It wa..." I let out a short breath as I trailed off, "It was... just... just a night-nightmare... 'm fine"

"No you're not"

I swallowed harshly, hesitantly turning to look at him. I shook my head, "I'm not"

"Do you want to talk about it?" he asked softly.

I took a breath, long and deep, and let it out in a long sigh, "No"

I brought my knees up to my chest, clasping my hands in front of my shins. I took deep breaths, counting the seconds I breathed in and out. Sherlock moved himself over, closer to me. He sat in close to me, one leg bend, his foot to his other thigh, behind me, the other stretched along by my side. Gently he rested his hands on my waist. Even though he was right there, he didn't sit too close, I still had breathing space.

Sherlock's mind was elsewhere - several elsewheres in fact. While he had a vague idea of what had been playing over in my mind, he was trying to figure out my measurements, seeing if I was back at a more healthy size again, at the same time he was recounting every moment that we'd spent together since he'd come back, while in the same moment he wondered if this had ever happened while I'd been staying with Mycroft. Mycroft would never have been able to handle that.

Eventually I had calmed down, I was still and I could breath normally again. I tried to push my nightmare out of my head. With a sigh I leant back against Sherlock, tilting my head back to rest against his shoulder, "... I'm okay"

"Are you?"

"Are you?"

Sherlock all but rolled his eyes, "I am not the one who woke up screaming because of a nightmare, Charlie"

"No," then I added quietly, "but you twitch in your sleep, you say stuff"

He looked at me in thinly veiled shock, "...do I?"

I nodded, "Every now and again you'll say something, most of it doesn't make any sense though - a bunch of code names and phrases. It's fine, it's not like I'll say anything"

I felt the long breath he'd taken, exhale over my skin, "...I didn't know"

"You're nearly as bad as I was when we met," I sighed, staring into the dark of the room, I muttered "without the nightmares though - I don't remember you ever having a nightmare"

"I have" I twisted my head to look at him, "While I was away, and before, and every now and again"

Saddened, I frowned to myself, a guilt coming over me, "I never noticed"

"I've just never woken up screaming" he commented dryly, "Not that I mean it as anything against you"

I swallowed silently, bowing my head a little, "... we should go back to sleep. Sorry I woke you"

"It's okay, Charlie - I'm here for you"

I looked up at him, studying him again. There were no bruises now to discolour his skin, no blood, or stitches or painful red skin any more. No stiff joints, no old aches. The wounds he'd came home with were healed, but they now stood out as pale, raised scars, bridging and running along and across his body. They arched and spread, different shapes for different wounds, different textures for different healing processes - he looked like he'd been torn apart and glued back together again. Every scar was a crack, a fault, a weakness - a point at which he could break again. I was worried about that. I told him firmly, "And I'm here for you too"

He smiled, knowing what had gone through my mind. "Let's get back to sleep Charlie" We lay back down and I cuddled in against Sherlock's side, watching his chest rise and fall as he breathed. I wanted to sleep again, but my mind wasn't having any of that, so I continue to lie there in silence, watching and listening. I hadn't noticed, but Sherlock was watching me too, "There's something else, isn't there?"

I nodded, "... that was the first nightmare I've had since you came back"

He didn't say anything, just held me closer. His arms held me firmly behind my back, and I leant my head against his chest. Hesitantly, I reached for his arm, holding on gently, with my fingertips tracing his scars. And quickly I fell asleep like that, wrapped up in strong arms, protected, by Sherlock.