Chapter 4

This was the third night that Sherlock watched John's sleep. It wasn't the easy sleep he'd expected. From what the doctor had said, he had thought John would sleep still and quiet, but he didn't.

The doctor had been right when he remarked that John would be an easy nursing case. On the day when they came home from hospital Sherlock escorted John into their flat and John went directly to his armchair. There he sat for the rest of the day and did not stir. He simply stared into nothing. Slowly it dawned to Sherlock that he had brought home a ghost. At first he did not let John out of sight. He did not want to miss, if John would move. But nothing happened. So Sherlock dropped himself onto the sofa and thought. Besides he kept an eye on John all the time.

As it was time to go to sleep, he guided John to his room upstairs, gave him his pyjamas, helped him change and tucked him into bed. John closed his eyes and seemed to be asleep at once. So Sherlock left the room and went to the living room. It occurred to him that it may be was not the best idea to take care of John himself. But he had the distinct feeling that it was his duty. All the time while they had shared the flat and solved Sherlock's cases, John was the one who was willing to give his life and save Sherlock's. It was he who took care of both of them, Sherlock wasn't that mindful of the danger in his life, because he was used to it and because he knew John would always watch his back. On John he could rely. John had kept him alive.

He paced the room up and down thoughts swirling in his head. Just now and then he stopped to take a look out of the window.

After a few hours of getting nowhere he heard a distant sound. Someone was giving a suffocated moan. He stopped to listen. Yes, there it was again. And it was coming out of John's room. Taking two steps at a time Sherlock stormed up the stairs. Slowly he opened the door and took a brief look at his friend. John was panting heavily. Something disturbed his dreams, just as the doctor had assumed.

Slowly he walked to John's bed. John was lying on his back. His chest was heaving heavily. He was sweating. As he got closer Sherlock could see a small stream of tears coming from the closed eyes. Something terrible was going on in John's mind. He was about to reach out to wake him up, but then stopped. He wasn't sure if this was a good idea. He didn't know what that would do to John's severed brain.

So Sherlock took the chair that stood in one corner of the room sat down and watched the sleep of John not knowing how to stop his nightmares.

The next day, at half past six in the morning to be exact, Sherlock called the hospital.

"You were right Doctor. I mean with the dreams of John Watson. I watched him last night and it was a constant circle. Every hour he began to sob and showed all signs of a bad dream. I wanted to make him stop, to wake him up. But I wasn't sure if that would do any harm."

"Hm, I know what you think, Mr. Holmes and I'm afraid that you are right. If you tore him from his tormented sleep, the circle of visions which repeat themselves night after night, it could be devastating. Now, I have another idea. It could help him if his unconsciousness knew he is not alone, that he doesn't have to endure the dream or vision on his own. That someone is by his side. So I advise you to make physical contact if the dream returns. Just touch his hand or something like that. It will not help at once, because his brain will need it's time to recognise the touch, but I would give it a try."

So the next night Sherlock got John into bed and stayed in his room in his chair as the previous night. He moved the chair to the right side of the bed. John lay on his back. He seemed to be asleep. After a few minutes his breathing accelerated. Sherlock covered John's hand with his. He made the physical contact the doctor had suggested. And then he waited.

He decided to treat John more normally. The day after the hospital had been a very silent one. Sherlock didn't speak a word because he knew John wouldn't answer him anyway.

But after the second night Sherlock couldn't endure the silence any longer.

After a few hours it dawned on him that only holding John's hand wasn't enough because it wasn't helping at all. John was caught in his dream. And nothing he could do would free him. Sherlock was at his wit's end.

The third night Sherlock put the chair aside and lay down next to John with the blanket between them. He slid close to John until their bodies touched from feet to shoulder. He inhaled deeply and tried to relax. Such a direct and intense body contact was exceedingly unusual for Sherlock. He had to give his body time to get used to this situation. Everything in him shouted for escape, but this was about John. So he deeply inhaled again and made his muscles relax. He leant his head against John's shoulder and closed his eyes.