Five
High Water
When: 20 (Inflammable)
Warnings: Angst & dangerously soppy fluff
The first time I saw Sherlock sleeping, I wished I had been in a state of mind that could actually appreciate just how cute the sight was.
It must have been pretty darn early in the morning; even through the heavy curtains I could tell it was still dark out, and there weren't any sounds from John's room apart from the occasional grunt in his sleep. I don't know how long I had slept, but I doubted it was more than a couple of hours, despite just how exhausted – both mentally and physically – I was. I knew that my eyes must be drooping oddly and that there must be nice heavy bags below them. I hadn't had a proper night's sleep since last Friday. And today was Tuesday.
Sure enough, the small green angular numbers on the microwave confirmed my thoughts. 03:17. We'd only gotten in at midnight.
I clicked the kettle on before wandering into the living room, thinking there might be some book or something that could distract me for long enough to fall asleep again. I paused shortly after entering, gazing down at the form already there.
Sherlock.
Curled up on the couch like a giant cat.
I wouldn't have believed he was actually sleeping if it wasn't for the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest with every slow breath he took. No one breathed like that unless they were asleep. Especially Sherlock. It was just too calm. Too normal.
I cocked my head at him and continued to watch, finding it somehow soothing. It was stupid of me not to realise he would be down here, having been up in his room. Where else would he have been? For some reason, I couldn't imagine John letting Sherlock bunk with him, although Sherlock probably wouldn't care as long as he got somewhere to sleep.
I narrowed my eyes. But Sherlock must have been into his room while I was sleeping. He had changed into his pyjamas and dressing gown. And of course, he hadn't woken me up in the process at all. That man sure could sneak around quietly. He had showered too; he didn't smell of petrol anymore. But it must have been a while ago since the bath had been completely dry fifteen minutes ago when I popped in.
The freezing water had helped. For a moment I had almost forgotten as the cold burned away my thoughts. The water had stung as it hammered down onto my face, but that only meant I didn't notice the tears so much. My entire body hurt, and washing away all the grime and accelerant was the first step in recovering.
I should have showered earlier. Now Sherlock's sheets were stained with petrol that I doubted would ever truly wash out. I was positive I would have to throw out my clothes anyway, but right now the crisp cool cotton of Sherlock's shirt and boxers felt oddly nice against my skin. I reached up and tucked my sopping hair into a loose bun at the base of my skull, knowing that getting a cold on top of things would not help much.
I forgot about the cup of tea I was planning to make and instead closed the distance between myself and the sofa. I realised that it would wake him up – I didn't really know but I was guessing that Sherlock was a light sleeper, what with his constant sensory overdrive – and one part of me didn't want to disturb the great consulting detective during one of the few times he ever rested. The other part of me, however, was stronger.
I wanted human interaction.
To feel connected to something that was still alive. Something that knew exactly what had happened last night, but that didn't care about it. Someone who didn't care what I had done.
I had killed someone.
Even thinking it made me feel nauseas and caused shivers to run down my limbs. It was so wrong. I didn't care about love or relationships or building a happy family life. I didn't enjoy being constantly around others, although small doses of their company were appreciated. I didn't want to know about their tedious little lives or their petty thoughts on celebrities. But I still respected them. And I understood just how much these things meant to others. I recognised how many people can love someone just for existing.
And I had stopped that.
I had stopped someone's life and destroyed an unknown number of other people's love.
She had a son, of course – the dentist.
I slowly perched myself on the edge of the sofa, the fabric dipping under my weight. Sherlock didn't stir. As quietly and softly as I could muster, I swivelled around and lay beside Sherlock, so that my back was less than a centimetre away from his chest, my legs tucked up just the right amount to allow me to lie there without falling off the couch or disturbing Sherlock. He didn't move but I knew I had woken him. His breathing had become its normal self.
We lay there in silence, not even touching, for at least a minute.
Finally Sherlock moved as he began twisting his body away from me. He grunted.
"You're cold."
I reached out behind me and grabbed one of his arms, stopping him from turning away. I shuffled closer to him and wrapped his arm around my waist, enjoying the warmth that was emanating from his body.
"Exactly." I muttered quietly.
Half of me had expected Sherlock to push me away, complaining about how I was far too cold and that if I wanted to sleep somewhere it would have to be on the floor. But he didn't. Sure, he grumbled some more under his breath and I could picture the correlating scowl across his expression, but he didn't try to get away. A small part of my mind even thought he might have tightened his grip around my waist.
I knew that I shouldn't have got to feel like this after what I had done, but somehow, lying there curled up in Sherlock's arms, I couldn't help but relax a little bit.
And as Sherlock's breathing returned to the slow gentle rhythm indicating he had fallen asleep again, I couldn't help but do the same.
Gah, more fluffy at the end than I originally thought. You don't get much of that in this story, do you? Also, I know this isn't technically something that deserves an M rating, but it just didn't fit in with the style of the main story, so it's in here.
Anyways, I'll get another chap up in the main fic next, as now theyre both running at the same time.
Oh and thanks Flarire for the colossal review a coupla chaps back. I don't really wanna answer any of your questions here directly, but don't worry, things will be happening that do.
Review times?