"Oh, it's a bit nippish in here," Mrs. Hudson exclaimed as Sherlock passed her in the hallway.
He pulled his robe closer to his body in agreement. "What's wrong with the heat?" He asked angrily as he entered the sitting room.
"I don't know dear."
"Don't touch any thing," he firmly said as she reached for one of the books on John's chair. He plopped down in his own chair and reached for his laptop. It opened easily and he sighed happily as it booted up just as easily. He pulled the fold her always added the dream data to and paused with his fingers hovering over the keys. "Was there something you wanted," he asked.
He rolled his eyes when she started fidgeting. "What is it?"
"Well," she began scratching a place on her cheek. "It's just... John seems worried about you. I heard you the two of you shouting at each other."
"So, we do that all the time. It's the way we communicate with each other."
"He seemed very... off the last few times he's spoken about you."
A few dreams ago I was intrigued by the fact that the color red was making more of an appearance, but...
He looked up at her. "He thinks I'm either on drugs or I'm having some brain splitting mental break down." Her expression made him frown. "I'm clean damn it."
She smiled lightly. "I know. It's just..."
"What?" He demanded.
"When the two of you fight it just makes me sad."
He sighed loudly before saying, "We're not a couple, Mrs. Hudson."
She laughed. "Domestic aside, I just hate to see two people drift apart."
A loud car horn sounded outside and it continued down the street. Sherlock cleared his throat and turned his attention back to his computer. "Me and John are fine. Is there any thing else?"
I am beginning to feel more tired. The discomfort I feel in the dreams is the same as one would during a nightmare and because of it I can't seem to get enough rest. The pain is becoming more prominent and it's weighing down on me in my awake time.
"Yes, dear."
He looked up to see her turning around. "I'd like some tea. Cream, sugar."
"I'm not your housekeeper dear."
"The usual."
She disappeared in to the hallway.
As much as I find this experiment intriguing I am starting to think that if this nightmare affect persists I'm going to start missing things. I need to find something to help me sleep with out dreaming. Just a few nights. Then I'll pick up where I left off. I surely hope that when I start doing this that it doesn't mess up the patern of the dreams when I want to start having them again.
To be continued at a later time...
He lowered the screen and placed the laptop on the floor. "Uh..." He groaned as he ran a hand down over his face. "So tired."
[-]
That night...
By the time Sherlock decided to go to bed his entire body ached from the effort he put in to remaining upright. He concentrated on the cup of tea he was holding. He'd never been this tired before. Steam rolled over the brim and he gritted his teeth as the hot liquid nearly did the same. "Oh, I hope this works."
He sprinkled a small amount of his newly purchased sleeping powder in his tea and used a tiny glass tea spoon to stir the powder around until it completely dissolved. There was a weird maple undertone as he carefully sipped the liquid. Now, all he had to do was wait for the sleeping powder to kick in. His sheets were nice and cool as he settled down beneath them. He clicked his bed side lamp off and closed his eyes.
[-]
"Hello, dear," Mrs. Hudson greeted as John peeked in to her kitchen. "Have you eaten breakfast yet?"
He smiled and felt his mouth start to water. "No, ma'am. Not enough time for Mary to cook this morning. She had a doctor's appointment and I had to drop Henry off at Day Care. Thought I'd pop in for a chat with Sherlock before I went to work."
"Oh, well, help yourself." She motioned to a table full of different foods. There were biscuits, bacon, muffins, and eggs. There were even brownies.
He walked up to the table and wiped a fake tear away from his eye. "Wow, you have a feast here. What's the occasion?"
She shrugged. "I've just really been in to cooking lately. I thought I might donate some food to the shelter near the square. Take as much as you want, dear. I'll get you a plate."
"Thank you so much. Wait until I tell Mary about this. She's going to be so jealous."
"Oh," she playfully smacked him on the arm before handing him the plate.
The food was still warm as he added a decent helping of eggs, a few pieces of bacon, and a biscuit to his plate.
"Would you like some Jam?"
"Oh, yes, please." He took the opened jar from he hands and slathered the Jam on to his biscuit.
Mrs. Hudson handed him a napkin. "I'm going to take out the trash. You can eat here or take it on up."
"Thank you."
He decided to eat at the table. It didn't take him long to finish.
[-]
Feeling much better, he made his way upstairs to Sherlock's flat.
Sherlock was seated in his chair with his knees pulled to his chest and his coat wrapped around his body. He was watching television and John barely caught the words he had been shouting at the screen.
"Any thing good?"
"Not bloody likely." He stood up and huffed in frustration. "Aren't you supposed to be at work?"
John smiled and took a step in to the sitting room. "What's that smell?" He asked curiously as he took a good look around. "Did you clean in here?"
"Yes, why?"
He smirked. "At first, I thought maybe you were cracking up. Still not quit sure you're not, but I got to say. The whole cleaning bit. It's good."
"Shut up."
[-]
Jim pulled the hood of his coat tightly around his ears and adjusted his seating position until he was comfortable. He and Anna had been keeping an eye on Sherlock for the last two weeks. Nothing dangerous had presented itself. Some of the potential clients coming out of Sherlock's flat were... He didn't want to be rude, so he settled with the word odd.
There had been one wearing an obscene amount of colors. They reminded him of a walking Skittle and then there had been the one who wore a hat so big that she had to remove it and turn it sideways in order to get in and out of the front door. He sighed. Moments of inactivity were not his favorite time. The silence brought back the memories.
He didn't want to go there and he refused to think that word. The one that made him lose his grip on reality. Anna had assured him that this was a good thing. She said that he was growing stronger, but he wasn't so sure about that. He didn't think that having panic attacks in the middle of a crowd or waking up screaming from a nightmare he couldn't remember was what you'd consider strong.
It was true that he was getting a better handle on his new abilities, though. For that he was grateful. He'd recently managed to see Sherlock's flat in his mind with out having to focus on it. It was just a flash, but it gave him hope that he would reach a new level in his training sooner rather than later. He looked over to see Anna who was sitting cross legged with her eyes closed.
He reached out with his mind and she projected her foresight out for him to see. Her quality and range was amazing. She had the live feed of Sherlock, John, Mrs. Hudson and the perimeter around their own hide out simultaneously playing out in her head. Each person's feed was square shaped like a small television screen. Sherlock was top left with John underneath. Mrs. Hudson was top right with Mary underneath and their perimeter was in the middle.
He focused on Sherlock and his square began to grow until Jim could easily see what was happening. Sherlock was sitting up on his seating room couch. He had a blanket draped over him and he was sipping on a cup of tea. Jim gasped as he was suddenly made aware that Sherlock was drinking tea mixed with a fine blue sleeping powder. A shiver ran down his body as he felt the affects the sleeping powder was having on Sherlock's system.
His muscles were relaxing, his eye lids were growing heavy and he was excited about that fact. Jim pulled his mind away and he blinked at the concrete wall before him. The heavy feeling of Sherlock's body lingered for a few minutes and Jim had to get up and pace back and forth a few times until he felt normal again. "How much longer do we have to do this?" It wasn't that he minded keeping Sherlock and his friends safe, but squatting in a concrete building with roll out cots to sleep on and one barrel to make a fire in was not pleasant.
She spoke with out opening her eyes. "Have you had any more visions like the one you had that brought us here?"
"No. Nothing visual, but I still have the feeling that Sherlock is in danger."
"Then we'll remain here until that feeling is no longer there."
He sighed. Of course, that was what they were going to do. He licked his lips to moisten them before he crossed the room to roll out his cot. "Wake me if you need me."