A/n: I know it's been a long time. My grandma passed away, and I really didn't feel like writing. Then no ideas as to how to do these entries. I hope to get back into the swing of things again. As a treat for your patience, I've done three journal entries this time. Enjoy! Also, thank you for all the reviews and subscriptions. I appreciate it!

John had hoped to crawl into his bed alongside Mary after a long day and tedious day at the surgery.

It was eleven o' clock. The couple had just had shut off the lights next to their beds and Mary had wrapped an arm around him, when John heard his phone go off on the side table. John had popped one eye open and stared at the glowing blue light of his cell phone. For a moment, he thought of ignoring it, but thought that it could be the office calling about an emergency. He picked up the phone and read the text message.

Sherlock in need of help. -MH

-Is he in danger?!-JW

-No. -MH

-Is he injured? -JW

-No, but he is ill. -MH

-Ill? How so? -JW

There was a pause in the transmission and then another beep alerted John to a new message.

-He has insomnia. -MH

John rolled his eyes, then typed: Then give him a sedative.-JW

You know as well as I that he will not take one, John. Also if he does not sleep, it will lead to migraines. MH

-Why don't you go and give him a glass of warm milk then? Why do I have to get up in the middle of the night to coddle him? Surely Mrs. H. could do that.-JW

-Mrs. Hudson is off visiting her sister, and I am stuck in a conference between Turkey and Saudi Arabia, otherwise I would. -MH

-Fine. -JW

-I'm much obliged, John. MH

John groaned and sat up.

"What's wrong, John?" Mary asked while yawning loudly.

"I have to go to Baker Street. Sherlock has insomnia and Mycroft wants me to try to help him." John explained as he changed into his shirt, trousers, and jacket.

"Well, you go take care of him, and I'll still be here when you get back." She said.

John leaned over and kissed her.

John knocked at the flat door, and he heard Sherlock call out wearily, "Come in."

He entered, and found the detective laying languidly on the sofa with one arm over his eyes. When he removed it, Sherlock seemed genuinely surprised to see him. "John, what are you doing here?"

John's lips thinned, "Your brother called me because you have insomnia and doesn't want you to get a migraine from it. So I am here to make sure you get off to sleep. "

Sherlock snorted, "What are you going to do, give me a glass of warm milk? I've already tried that."

John slipped off his coat and set it aside. "No, but I'll start with some herbal tea with honey and some biscuits. Sugar helps aid the sleeping process. I'll go into the kitchen to make some, shall I?"

While the tea was boiling, John sat next to Sherlock on the sofa. His eyes caught the journal.

"Haven't worked on it for a few days." Sherlock muttered with something like annoyance.

"Bored with it already?" He replied, and flipped through a few of the pages. "Why don't we try some of the easier entries while we're waiting?" John suggested.

Sherlock shrugged with boredom but didn't take his eyes off the journal.

"Here's one: Trace your hands. I reckon it doesn't have to be fancy." John cajoled and picked up the pen next to it. Muttering at how stupid and juvenile this prompt was, Sherlock grudgingly allowed his hands to be traced by John.

"There, one down." John announced, and continued to flip through the pages until he spotted another uncompleted prompt.

He found one that caught his eye just as the kettle began to whistle.

Make a funnel and drink from it.

"I'll just take this one, shall I?" John asked, and tore out the page before Sherlock had said anything.

Going to the kitchen, John formed the funnel and put it together with cello-tape that he knew Sherlock kept in a random drawer. Filling it with tea, the doctor also squirted in some honey, then poured a cup for himself. John gathered the (luckily) new biscuits that Mrs. Hudson had bought on a plate and returned to his spot in the living room.

He handed Sherlock the proffered funnel, which made the detective's eyebrows knot with some dismay. "Never know till you try it, mate." John grunted all the while taking sips from his own teacup. Sherlock downed the drink in a few gulps, crumpled the funnel, and tossed it over his left shoulder before reaching for some biscuits.

"You know, Mrs. Hudson would have a fit if she saw that."

"Luckily, she's not here." Breathed Sherlock taking another biscuit and leaning back onto a small sofa pillow.

"Here's one, Write backwards." John put forth and handed the journal to Sherlock.

"Amateurish, any moron could do that." Sherlock complained, but didn't object to taking the pen, placing the book against his knees, and writing rather rapidly. John chuckled as he picked up the dishes, went into the kitchen and washed them.

There was silence for a little while, and John couldn't help but feel slightly uneasy. He turned his head to see that Sherlock's chin was resting on his chest, the journal dangling a mere few inches off the floor from his fingers. John finished the dishes, then went back into the sitting room to place a throw blanket on the now sleeping detective. John gently pried it out of his hands and read it. It looked like his graduate chemist dissertation from college.

"Way to outdo everyone, Sherlock." John breathed, and placed it on the coffee table.

He carefully made his exit, not wanting to wake Sherlock as he went out. When John was on the stairwell, he texted back Mycroft.

Mission accomplished. Sherlock is asleep. For future reference, herbal tea with honey and biscuits seem to be the catalyst. -JW

I will endeavor to remember that. My thanks. -MH

TBC...