Sherlock awoke suddenly with a jarring gasp, clutching the sheets around him in desperation. John was pulled quickly from his sleep and, reaching for the panicking detective, tried to calm him down. "Sherlock, what's wrong?" John managed to pin the pale arms to his sides and refused to let go until Sherlock took several deep breaths.
"I know dreams aren't real and are only a construct of the unconscious mind," Sherlock began with shaky breath, "But it was so REAL, John."
"What was your dream about?" John let go of Sherlock's arms and brushed a lock of curls from his face.
"I- I didn't jump all those years ago. On the rooftop. I didn't finish Moriarty's story and they-" He shuddered out a breath and took another moment to collect himself. "They killed you, John. Right in front of me and I heard it all over the phone and..." He started crying as he looked at John. "And I'm so sorry because that's what I did to you, only I never got you back!"
John wiped the tears from Sherlock's cheeks, "Sherlock, please calm down, love. It was a dream. I'm alive, Sherlock. I promise." The good doctor pulled Sherlock down and placed his boyfriend's head over his heart. Sherlock breathed deeply and closed his eyes, listening and cataloguing every beat.