Chapter 29- The Nightmares

A/n: My Wi-Fi hasn't been working again, so I'm sorry about the delay, it's getting ridiculous!

Anyway, thank you to everyone who reviewed and followed and favourited me the other day and I hope everyone is enjoying it so far!

So here is the next chapter, finally, I hope you all like it! Xxx

JW

I stumbled across the road, head throbbing. My mind had gone blank; a resounding echo kept bouncing through my thoughts:

No.

No.

Please no.

No.

No.

"Sherlock…"I mumbled again and again, gasping for breath.

A crowd of people swarmed around the black mass on the floor. My heart lurched. Shock caused me to tremble violently.

I pushed through the crowd of gasping onlookers.

"I'm a doctor, let me through, let me through please, he's my friend, he's my friend please," I kept mumbling. The words seemed really muffled to me, as if I'd heard them from far away.

Finally I got through.

Sherlock was lying on the pavement, surrounded by a pool of scarlet. A hand turned his limp, lifeless body over.

I saw his face. Streaked with scarlet. His jet black hair matted.

His sightless glassy, blue eyes that would never pierce me again.

No...

I reached desperately for his arm, my two fingers digging in his wrist. I tried to find a pulse that I already knew wasn't there.

I was numbly aware that hands were prising me off him.

No...

My world was spinning, spiralling out of control.

I couldn't breathe.

He can't be dead. He can't.

No...

My knees buckled, and I collapsed onto the pavement hard on my knees.

"Oh Jesus no..." I gasped, "God no..."

All I could see was his face.

The blood.

The glassy eyes.

My best friend...

The vision swirled and suddenly I was standing on the pavement, looking up to Sherlock's figure on top of the building.

I felt the mounting panic build up in my chest.

"Oh god…" I gasp.

"I-I can't come down so- so we are just going to have to do it like this," said Sherlock's voice through the phone. He sounded so scared, his voice was trembling slightly.

"What's going on?" I found it hard to breathe.

"An apology…"

There was a slight pause. Then...

"It's all true,"

No...

"w-w-what?" my voice cracked...

"John!" shouted an urgent voice.

I was dimly aware that my body was getting shaken.

The clutches of the darkness were receding.

Oh god!

With a gasp I jerked awake, sitting bolt upright.

I was sweating and gasping and, I realised, crying.

"Sher- Sher- Sherlock," I stammered, panic bubbling up in my throat.

The nightmare.

Oh god the nightmare.

I couldn't shake the vision of his lifeless body from my mind.

Just a dream. It's just a dream...

"It's ok John... It's alright... I'm here John... It's ok," said a soothing, familiar voice.

My eyes finally focused. Sherlock was in front of me, eyes full of concern.

Sherlock...

"Oh Christ!" I gasped, flinging my arms around him.

It's just a dream, Sherlock's not dead, he's here... Just a dream...

I buried my head into his shoulder, repeating this again and again in my mind. I felt him stiffen slightly, and then relax. I felt him arms come protectively around me.

"It's ok John," he whispered in my ear.

I took a deep shuddering breath and forced myself to calm down. Finally, I pulled back.

Sherlock kept his hands on my arms comfortingly.

"Are you ok?" he said quietly.

I took a couple of calming breaths and nodded shakily.

"Yeah... I'm...I'm fine...just...thanks," I said weakly.

He shrugged, "it's quite painful watching you really," he said in a very subdued voice.

He presented me with a glass of water, condensation glistening around the edges. I took it gratefully, taking a shaky sip.

"Oh God, Sherlock, why aren't they going away?" I whispered after a while.

My eyes met his sympathetic blue ones desperately.

"I don't know," he answered truthfully.

"I can't keep doing this," I whispered, "every time I close my eyes, I see you, lying there on the pavement,"

His eyes closed, scrunching them up so creases appeared around the edges, and he blew out a sharp breath.

"I'm sorry John," he whispered, pain breaking through his voice, "I really am, I wish I'd never jumped,"

I shook my head violently, "shut up Sherlock, it's not your fault! If you didn't jump, I would be dead,"

"But-" he objected despairingly.

This time, I placed my hand on his mouth, causing him to stop in shock.

"No," I said firmly, "it's fine! I'm fine! You don't need to regret it, you had to do it, so you did," what I was saying was all true, but I couldn't stop the small tremor in my voice as I remembered those lonely 5 months.

He wrapped his elegant fingers around my wrist, and removed my hand from his mouth.

"I won't ever stop being sorry John," he said quietly.

"And I won't ever stop forgiving you," I whispered back.

The answering smile was the brightest I'd seen in days, and one I realised that I wanted to see more often.

I finished the water quickly and then clambered out of bed.

"Thanks for waking me up, by the way," I said calmly, putting the glass in the sink.

"It's fine,"

We were silent for a very long time, both of us just sitting in the front room as the sun filtered through the windows. I glanced at the clock. It was 6.30 in the morning. I calculated. I'd only had 4 hours sleep.

God, I felt sorry for Sherlock.

"Sorry for waking you," I said guiltily. His head flashed up, eyes wide.

"What? No! Don't be!" he said in a low voice, "I didn't mind,"

His voice took on a strange hollow sound, as if remembering something.

Huh?

"What's wrong?" I asked quietly.

Sherlock, who seemed to be lost in thought, suddenly snapped out of it.

"Sorry, what?"

"What's wrong?" I pressed, "I know something's wrong,"

His mouth squirmed slightly.

"Nothing's wrong John," he said quietly, "I'm fine,"

And suddenly it hit me.

"You had a nightmare too, didn't you?" I gasped.

He blinked.

"No,"

"But you did, didn't you?" I whispered.

I don't know what made him change his mind, but suddenly, he sighed in resignation.

"Fine, yes I did, but it doesn't matter," he began to fiddle with his fingers, looking down.

I came to sit by him.

"Tell me," I said calmly, "it always helps me to tell people,"

Again, he sighed.

"It was about- well- you,"

I stopped, blinked.

"What?"

Again, he sighed deeply, finally meeting my eyes.

"I was on the building, looking down at you- hearing your disbelief and fear through the phone-" he paused, "it's one of my worst memories,"

I grimaced, "that makes two of us,"

But then I smiled, "but it's over now,"

"Yes,"

That was the only answer I got.

A/n: so a bit of an angsty one, but I hope you liked it! A review or two would be really appreciated! X

Also, just a fair warning, I'm probably not going to get the chance to update now until the earliest next Thursday, because I'm off to Spain, and alas, there's no Wi-Fi there. I hope you're not angry with me! X