From Wordwielder: Dreams
"Doctor!"
Watson snapped awake at the cry, the terror in Holmes's voice painfully familiar by now. He'd only been back at Baker Street a fortnight... No, just slippers this time, it was already too warm for a dressing gown.
Hastening down to the first floor landing as quietly as he could, Watson tapped softly on the detective's door. "Holmes?" A creaking of springs was the only reply. "Holmes, it's Watson, I'm coming in."
"...if you must..." Watson's lips twitched in a sad smile at the audible relief in that hoarse whisper, still fogged with sleep, and opened the door.
Holmes was just sitting up in bed, making a valiant effort to untangle himself from a knot of bedclothes. Watson turned up the gas jet and lent a hand to straighten the covers, then poured out some water from the jug on the bureau – Mrs. Hudson's doing, no doubt, bless her. Holmes's hands were still shaking as he took the glass, gulping thirstily.
"The falls again?" Watson ventured gently, sitting on the edge of the bed.
Holmes shuddered, hands tightening on the glass, and shook his head. "Tibet."
Watson gently gripped his friend's trembling shoulder in mute sympathy. What Holmes had let slip on other nights before Watson could wake him was enough to cure the doctor of any desire to learn more – well, mostly... Could Holmes possibly have seen an actual yeti? But a blue flying box, that had to be a metaphor for something, Lord only knew what...
A/N: *hugs Sherlock* For anyone interested in Holmes's Tibetan adventure, Aleine Skyfire and I have been writing a Holmes / Doctor Who crossover for the last several years, under the joint name Wholmes Productions. How Holmes met the Doctor is Episode One: Smith and Holmes.