Sherlock slept in John and Mary's bed in the middle of the day. Mary left to go to the hospital because of some pains in her feet, which John shook his head at. Nevertheless, John sat there next to his bed, watching Sherlock breathe deeply as he slept. It was a sad sight, John thought, seeing his friend lying there. Somehow, he could only sleep when John was around. This puzzled him very much. Was he afraid? He simply couldn't tell with Sherlock. He always had been a walking mystery.
"J-John?" Whimpered Sherlock, beginning to wake from his sleep. John snapped out of his thoughts and noticed tears in his friend's eyes.
"Did you have a nightmare?" asked John, kneeling besides the bed. Sherlock nodded.
"You were.. killed.." He sobbed.
"No I wasn't." replied John in a comforting tone. "I'm right here." He reached out to wipe the tears from his friend's eyes, causing him to calm down. He even smiled for a moment.
"Thank you John..." said Sherlock, before once again falling asleep at the doctor's side.