I woke with a gasp. I didn't recognize my surroundings, I didn't know where I was, or why. It took me a few moments, and I curled up on my side during that, shivering, irrationally cold. My skin crawled and I didn't understand it.

"Sofia?" A soft baritone voice came from the doorway, follows quickly by the bed behind me dipping as someone sat on the edge. I realized my back was to the door, but I didn't move, my body still trembling a little.

"Sofia." This time the voice was softer and lighter in tone. Oh. Both of them were in the room. John had sat on the edge of the bed, and now he put a hand lightly on my shoulder, shifting a little to try and roll me onto my back or at least onto my side.

I took a trembling breath and slowly rolled over to look at the two, seeing Sherlock still lingering by the doorway. "I.. I'm sorry. I must have had a nightmare. I woke up, and I didn't know where I was." I shivered a little and curled up a little bit more.

Sherlock moved from the doorway, and I noticed at some point he had changed into pajama pants, a t-shirt and a dressing gown. I wondered what time it was when I noticed that John similarly had a t-shirt and sweatpants on. I watched as Sherlock sat down on the bed a bit further down, just below my hips, and he put a hand lightly on my leg, probably meant to be comforting.

John glances at Sherlock, then reached up and brushed some hair back from my face, then put his hand on my forehead. "It's alright. We heard some noises, and came to make sure you were ok. Your fever's gone. But you're shaking.. are you alright?" He moved his hand down to my shoulder, and then rubbed my bicep a little.

It felt nice, having these two close to me, caring for me. "Cold." I admitted, blushing and averting my eyes from the two. At least until I felt movement, and watched Sherlock silently get up, frowning, he moved over to close the window that was open a few inches, before he moved over with a soft blanket, carefully laying it over me and tucking it in around my body.

"Better?" Sherlock asked, resuming his seat and putting his hand on my leg again. I am not sure how I knew, but I knew it wasn't sexual, or at least it wasn't intended that way. It was just.. comforting. I nodded a little. "You.. you two should go back to sleep."

John chuckled. "It's not quite that late yet, only about 8." He says as he watches me, and I noticed that his hair was a little damp. Oh. He changed after his shower. That made sense.

Sherlock is watching in concern, then he says, "You should come to the sitting room, have something to drink and eat. No doubt you're still dehydrated."

John pursed his lips as he watched me, then nodded quietly. "Yes, I think that would be a good idea.. up you go." he says as he helped me sit up, and stand up. Sherlock snatched up the blanket and draped it around my shoulders gently.

I couldn't help but giggle a little, between being tired and how doting the two were being. "Not that I can remember much, but I can't remember the last time anyone cared for me like this.." The giggling stopped as abruptly as it started with a little hitch in my throat as I tried not to let sadness swallow me up and send me back into tears which I'm sure neither of them wanted to see.

John's expression turned sad and a little pinched, but he decided not to comment, merely nodding a little to me, reaching out to take my hand and give it a reassuring squeeze, silently leading me out into the living room. Sherlock followed close behind. After leaving me at the couch, John wandered into the kitchen to get food.

Sherlock took up his post, gently taking my abandoned hand. His hands were dryer, softer, and colder than John's, without the calluses. Gently, he urged me to sit down and then sat beside me, still holding my hand loosely, clearly allowing me to pull back if I was uncomfortable.

Everything was just so overwhelming I wasn't sure what to do, looking between the two with wide eyes, still shining with unspent tears.

Sherlock looked at me and he seemed to understand, if a little. "It's alright. You don't have to worry around us." He reassured me, his thumb stroking against the side of my knuckle for a moment in an oddly gentle gesture.

John paused in the doorway, watching us, having a bowl of soup and some tea, as well as a large glass of water on a tray. With a little, fond smile, he moved into the living room. "Here you are. Try to eat it all if you can, we need to get your strength back up."

Sherlock's hand left mine quickly once John started to come back into the room, and while I felt oddly bereft, I noticed that it seemed like he didn't want John to see him expressing emotion, or being strangely human. Thankfully I was at least hungry, reaching out for the soup. "Thank you.." I managed as I picked it up and ate, John sitting down on the other side from Sherlock, picking up the remote to flip through the channels on the TV. It seemed they were content to just sit there with me and let their presence be known.

The food was good, the tea was good, and I managed to finish every drop of tea, water, and soup. And then I was full. Unfortunately, something clicked through on the TV, I couldn't tell you what it was afterward, but it caused me to start trembling, fear shooting through me.

They both seemed to notice my impending panic attack at about the same time, and turned toward me, John taking my hand, and Sherlock following the example, taking my other one. "Sofia.. hey.. sof.. it's ok.. We're here, you're in Baker Street, you're safe." he reassured me as I started to get tunnel vision. It passed quickly though, and John exchanged a worried look with Sherlock.

It was Sherlock's turn this time to have sudden inspiration. "I know what might help you sleep." he said this so triumphantly that John got a worried look on his face. Still, Sherlock sprang up and disappeared, coming back with a pillow before sitting down on the far end of one couch, pillow in his lap. "Come on.. lay down.. John, move to the other end, so she can put her feet in your lap." He demanded, motioning for me to lie down and presumably use his lap as a pillow.

A blush rushed into my cheeks, and I watched him to try and figure out what his motives were. Finally realizing that he might just be innocently offering help, I shifted and slowly lay down with my head in his lap, made extremely comfortable by the pillow in his lap. I was able to put my feet up in John's lap since he moved down a bit, and he smiled encouragingly at me, arranging the blanket so that I was covered, tucking it in a bit before resting his hand on my leg gently.

Sherlock lifted one hand and rested it on my shoulder. "Now, let's watch some tellie, and do try to relax, Sofia. John has informed me that you have to sleep more to heal properly." He said in a more imperious tone, thumb stroking my shoulder idly as he stared off into space, not at the TV like John, just randomly out into the room.

It was the most comfortable I had felt all day, and I couldn't help but stretch out a little, nuzzling down into the pillow as I started to get comfortable, John chuckling lightly, smirking as he made sure my feet would stay covered with the blanket. I was full and warm, but most importantly, I felt safe and protected, and that is what made it easy to fall asleep.

-oOo-

A/N Sorry for the short chapter, again. Updates will be slow for the next month since I'm participating in National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo), and all of my writing energies are going toward that fic. Please let me know what you think!