The Case of the Cuddle Chapter 6

Warning: references to rape and child sexual abuse.

Thank you to everyone who commented for your support. You've all been wonderful. This is a little snuggly interlude. I'm still writing episodes - at this rate its going to go on till Christmas!

Sherlock was waking. John watched him purr and stretch, watched his hand reach out across the sheet and find it empty and cold. His eyes opened. He lifted his head, looked around, and finally saw John sitting on the chair he had placed by the door, about 3am, after Mycroft had finally left.

'What are you doing there?' His voice was husky.

'I didn't want you to – feel threatened.'

'I wouldn't.'

'I've had enough flashbacks myself, Sherlock. I know you can't be sure of that.'

Sherlock propped himself up on his elbow and looked at the alarm clock. Then at John. The doctor knew he must look dreadful. He had been awake most of the night, first with Mycroft, then watching over his flatmate. It was hard to tell which of them was more groggy, Sherlock after the sedative, or sleep-deprived John.

'You've been sitting there half the night, haven't you?'

'I didn't know what else to do.' John rubbed his hand over his grizzled features.

'What did Mycroft say?'

Of course, why was he surprised that Sherlock would know of his brother's visit? He would have worked it out immediately.

'He was a wreck. He feels responsible.'

Sherlock growled something inaudible.

'Is this what all your bickering is about? Come on, you know he wasn't there, he couldn't have stopped them.'

Sherlock had the grace to look ashamed.

'He wants to talk to you, as soon as you can face it. He wants names. I think he wants revenge.'

Sherlock blinked and then looked impressed. 'Really?'

'I shouldn't like to be in their shoes, is all I can say,' John sighed. 'Will you? Talk to him, I mean? Not till you are ready, of course –'

'Yes.'

'Because I think it would really help you both.'

'Yes.' Sherlock flopped back on the pillow. 'What did Sarah say?'

Of course he would know that John rang Sarah too. What else would a doctor do in such a situation but ring his colleague?

'She gave me the name of a good child sex abuse counsellor.'

'Oh God, do I have to?'

'You're making me go to a PTSD therapist.'

'Yes, but-'

'Sherlock, I want you to get well, but I can't help you much myself. This is way beyond my training. You need a specialist.'

'If I must,' Sherlock grumbled.

'I just don't know what to do,' John told him, realising that he sounded as if he was whining. 'I want to help you but I don't know how.'

'I know how,' Sherlock said.

'What? Just say. Anything.'

'May I have a hug?'

John hesitated. 'Are you sure? I don't want to freak you out or anything-'

'Shut up and get over here.'

John was stiff from sitting up all night. His leg spasmed as he got up, and he had to shuffle over to the bed. He sat down on the duvet awkwardly, and put his arms around Sherlock.

'You're freezing,' Sherlock said, pulling away from him. He tugged back the duvet. 'Get in.'

'Sherlock, that's not-'

'I need you, John. You're no good to me exhausted and frozen.'

John dragged his heavy limbs into the bed and lay down. He was not sure quite who was hugging who, but Sherlock snuggled against his chest, pressing his cheek into the brushed cotton shirt John had shrugged on yesterday morning and was still wearing.

'Cuddles are the answer to everything,' Sherlock murmured.

'Not quite,' John smiled settling back.

'Well, everything that tea can't fix.'

'Idiot.'

'Mmmm.'

They lay there for a long time, John staring at the ceiling, listening to Sherlock's steady heartbeat, feeling the warmth of the long, lean body suffusing his limbs.

He pressed a kiss into Sherlock's curls. 'Sometimes I feel like, if we could just stay like this, together, safe in bed, then there would be no more problems. Everything would be solved.'

The detective nodded. 'We'll get through this. I don't know how, but we will.'

Tomorrow, Mycroft sets out for revenge..