A/N: This is a bit more Johnlock-y. Enjoy!
John was having another nightmare. He gripped the sheets as his brain took his strongest fears and most terrifying memories and turned them in to a fake- yet harsh- reality.
"SHERLOCK!" John yelled, his voice cracking, as he watched his one good friend plummet down towards the ground. He ran forwards, getting back up when he was knocked over by the biker, slightly disoriented.
He appeared by sherlock's side, resisting the hands that tried to pull him away. They didn't understand... That was Sherlock, lying on the ground.
John reached for Sherlock's wrist, trying to get a pulse. When he didn't feel one, he let the stranger's hands pull him back.
He couldn't breath. Sherlock was gone. But, he couldn't be. He was Sherlock. He never left. He couldn't die...
John bolted up in his bed with a strangled yell. He was tangled in the sheets, breathing hard and fast. He buried his face in his hands, letting out a few wet sobs.
OoOoOoOoO
Sherlock sat up abruptly when he heard John yell his name. He strode towards the door, wondering what was going on. He stopped, however, when he reached the door to John's bedroom, and heard quiet crying.
Sherlock has never liked emotions. He found them unnecessary, and a bit uncomfortable at times.
But Sherlock knew he had caused this nightmare of John's. He knew John had been hiding something ever since he came back- and he'd almost defiantly been dealing with this before- and he wanted to help John with it.
So, taking a deep breath, Sherlock turned the knob to John's room and walked in.
"John, are... Are you okay?" Sherlock asked timidly.
John looked up at Sherlock, sniffed, and wiped the tears off his face. "Yeah, I-I'm okay," he replied hoarsely.
Sherlock shook his head. "No, I mean are you really okay."
John slowly shook his head. "I-I've been having nightmares since... well... and I'm used to them, Sherlock, I'm really fine..."
Sherlock frowned. He knew John wasn't really fine. If he was having flashbacks and nightmares these severe, there was a problem. No wonder John had been looking so tired...
"I'm staying in here tonight," Sherlock concluded his thoughts.
John looked startled. "Umm, excuse me?"
"You obviously can't sleep with nightmares, and seeing how bad these are, you will most likely have another one tonight. So, logically, I should stay with you, to make sure you don't have any more." Without waiting for a reply from John, he slid under the covers and curled up on his side, staring in to John's eyes.
John cleared his throat a bit awkwardly. He turned on to his back, so they weren't staring right at each other. He sighed and closed his eyes, relaxing in to the clawing fingers of sleep.
OoOoOoOoO
A few hours later, John woke up to a warm body pressed against his. He breathed in the scent that could only be described as Sherlock. He happily turned his face towards Sherlock's and buried his face in the taller man's shoulder.