May 24
Oh, Christ.
I didn't think it would happen so fast.
Sorry that my handwriting is really sloppy here. It's actually a quarter after four in the morning as I write this— not like my usual routine, when I write at the end of the day. I've been up for the last half hour, just sitting in the dark and trying to calm myself down without waking up Sherlock.
I had a nightmare. A nightmare that starred Jim Moriarty. And it was horrible. It's been two months, but I can still see him every time I close my eyes— see those dark, dead eyes and that deranged smile. And hear his soft, yet snarling voice echoing everywhere around me as I'm trapped in that dark room with him again.
Oh, God. I think I'm losing it. I know Dr. Malone said that writing about stuff like this would help relieve the stress, but it's not working. Usually whenever I have night terrors, Uncle John is here with me, and he makes me feel better. But he's not here.
I hate this.
I hate this.
I hate this.
Wow.
To be honest, I can't quite recall writing down most of that from earlier this morning, especially around the end. I went into a bit of a panic-induced state right after that.
Definitely not one of my proudest moments.
Don't worry. I'm good now. Luckily for me, Sherlock was the only one who was witness to the episode. Well, maybe not so lucky, but hey, at least no one else saw it. Right?
I guess I wasn't as quiet as I thought I was, because it wasn't very long into my panic attack that Sherlock came in. When I was myself again, the first thing I saw was Sherlock sitting right in front of me on the bed, hands gripping on my shoulders, and his face was earnest, his jaw tight. I think I actually scared him, which is strange because nothing scares Sherlock. At the least, he does a very good job of not showing it. How I envy his ability to do so.
Anyway, after I snapped out of it, and in helping me get my breathing under control, he simply looked me in the eye, and he told me that I dreamt about the incident. Not a question, but a statement of fact.
That's one of the good things about Sherlock: he doesn't pry for answers, because he already knows. He's that observant.
But that didn't make the situation any less embarrassing.
Sherlock didn't say anything else after that, though. Instead, he led me downstairs to the living room, where he had me sit on the couch with a blanket around me, while he quietly made me a cup of tea the way I liked it. Then he took out his violin and played this weird, German lullaby. It was kind of odd, but it was also…nice. And it did help calm me down— enough for me to fall asleep again right there on the couch, this time without any bad dreams. After that, I felt so much better.
The rest of the day was spent with Sherlock. He kept getting phone calls from Lestrade, but he would only dismiss the DI, saying that the cases he was offering were "dull" or "boring" or "not worth wasting any brain cells on". Not really sure if that's true or not, only using those excuses to stay home and watch me, but either way, the day mostly consisted of me helping Sherlock with another one of his experiments— a much safer experiment, involving a few big toes and a dash of citric acid.
I'm back in my room alone for the night, but before I turned in earlier, Sherlock told me that he'll just be down there if I need him. Even now, I can hear him playing softly on his violin, tuning a melody I don't recognize. Probably a score of his own. I wouldn't be surprised if he composed music in his spare time with his gift for improvisation.
That's another thing about Sherlock— well, a lot of things, really. He's not your typical go-to shoulder to cry on. He's definitely not one for hugging, cuddling, or anything to do with outbursts of affection. But that's okay. I'm not really much of a hugger myself unless it's with someone I'm particularly close to, like Uncle John (he does give the best hugs). With Sherlock, though, despite his aloofness, he just…he just knows what I need, even without all the sappy stuff. Maybe that's enough. For the sake of the next few days while it's just me and him, I really hope it is.
With all due respect,
Harley Watson