Miss Crookshanks : and it's just the beginning. Cruel? Well maybe a little :p
7thWonder : here comes the third chapter. Hope you'll like it :)
watergoddesskasey : sometimes middle of nowhere is good! Believe me!
Boobunny60 : Yes he is. Do you think he has good reasons? (Thank you :))
Lumoa : Yes at this exact moment, John is a coward. He has is own reason though...
Real or not : voici le troisième chapitre (j'ai bien entendu ta parenthèse j'y travaille). Tu y es quand?

Thank you very much, as always.

He comes the (short) third chapter.

3 – Nervous breakdown

John spent the whole day on the sofa waiting like a look-out, expecting to see a tired-looking Sherlock walking through the sitting room's threshold. In vain. Sherlock had locked himself in his bedroom (John checked).

The blond haired man was reviewing the movie of the last evening and morning events. He wanted them to make sense, he wanted them to fit his habits, fit his usual life, but that was just impossible. Having his highly functioning sociopath roommate telling him he wanted to have sex with him definitely didn't match his usual way of life. Sherlock kissed him, roughly, scarily. John was so mad at him. But then he found him on the floor, needing help, unable to take care of himself, then the nightmare, the words he said, and those blue grey eyes staring at nothing glowing strangely. John got up, he couldn't stand it anymore, he had to sort this out, he had to know...

He knocked on Sherlock's door. No answer, of course. He knocked again.

"Sherlock open the door." He asked and found no answer "Sherlock?" nothing "Sherlock please".

John waited five more minutes and heard the key in the lock. He opened the door slowly, Sherlock was back in his bed, back turned to the door in the same posture he was the last time John was here.

"Sherlock, are you all right?" The doctor asked anxious.

"John, I opened the door so you didn't have to break in. I'm alive and well. Now, please can you go away?" The brown haired man said in a low voice.

"Sherlock..." John walked around the bed to see the detective's face and froze. Sherlock's eyes were puffy and red and circled with black shadows, his skin was whiter as ever "Sherlock ?" The doctor came to sit on the bed's edge right in Sherlock's field of vision. "You look awful, Sherlock," great that was the perfect thing to say "are you okay?" Far better you stupid!

Sherlock pierced the blond haired man with his grey eyes. "No I'm not right, look at me!" He said out of patience, his voice still low though. The doctor felt incredibly stupid and didn't know what to answer to that. "I've spent the last six hours crying, I haven't cried since my childhood and now look at me, I just can't stop myself!" As to illustrate Sherlock's words, two tears rolled on his cheeks as he moved and sat on the bed. He looked confused and furious.

"I'm sorry..." What was he sorry for?

"What are you sorry for?" The brown haired man hissed.

"I don't know," he admitted "I haven't done anything wrong but I feel I'm in fault here. Are those tears for me?"

"I don't know!" Sherlock shouted "I just can't help myself crying without sense or reason, I'm crying ever since..." he stopped "I've been crying ever since I dreamed you left me." Sherlock frowned as if he was connecting the dot and still couldn't see the picture "Why?" he looked right in John's eyes expecting the blond man to give him a satisfying answer.

"Well," the doctor coughed to clear his throat, "sometimes, when you have a vivid dream, you over react when you wake up..."

"It's been six hours!" Sherlock shouted.

"Calm down Sherlock, it's okay!"

"No it's not okay, I don't feel okay, stop saying everything is okay when, obviously, nothing, absolutely nothing, is okay"

"Right Sherlock, I'm sorry but calm down and stop shouting like that!"

"If only I could just stop crying!"

"Sometimes the only way to make it stop is to give in and cry all the tears out."

"It doesn't make sense !"

"Maybe but it works."

"I can't cry in front of you !"

"Sherlock, you already are..." John smiled. Suddenly a sound came out of Sherlock's throat as he busted out into tears. He covered his face with his hands and sobbed loudly.

John opened his eyes wide, he was helpless, Sherlock, Sherlock Holmes, the one and only was having a nervous breakdown right in front of him. What was he supposed to do? He hesitated a second or two but his natural self emerged and he moved closer to the brown haired man circling his shoulders with his arm and rocking him gently to comfort him.

"I'm here Sherlock, you can let go, I'm holding you, you are not alone."

Sherlock's hands grabbed John's jumper as he buried his head in his chest.

It took the distressed man half an hour to calm himself. He let go of John's damp jumper and lay himself on his bed. He was absolutely exhausted and about to fall into sleep.

"You have to rest, I'm letting you sleep..." John didn't finished his phrase, Sherlock caught a fistful of his jumper and opened his eyes.

"Please John, can you wait until I sleep?" He asked weakly. John nodded and the detective relaxed on his pillow.

Sherlock woke up in the late evening. He blinked several times. Something was unusual but he just couldn't...yeah that was it...he wasn't alone in his bed. He turned his head on his right and saw John sitting on the bed, back on the wall – that must have been quite uncomfortable – he was looking at him.

"You speak in your sleep." John said.

"What? No I don't !" Sherlock replied offended.

"If you say so."

"You stayed here? Why?" The brown haired man asked.

"Sherlock, you're still holding my jumper."

"What?" Sherlock looked at his hand "Oh!" He opened his fist, his fingers were numb "Why didn't you wake me?"

"I took advantage of the silence to think."

Sherlock's body stiffen.

"You speak in your sleep, you know that?"

"No, John, I don't!" Sherlock frowned "What did you think about?"

"You know what I was thinking about. I was thinking about what you said, what you did yesterday and this morning. The two faces of the same you the two different ways you said the same thing" John stopped speaking for a moment and looked at Sherlock's face "You are scared of losing me."

"And?"

"And I wasn't sure to understand why. Why you were so scared but before that why you needed me so much. But you gave me the answer" Sherlock frowned again "Did I tell you, you speak in your sleep?"

"John I..." The brown haired man opened his eyes wide "What did I say?"

"You said John I love you."

…

(Do you like my cliffhanger?)