Falling For You

The Fall

There was a blood-curdling scream that caused John Watson to jump out of bed and run down to Sherlock's room.  He threw open the door and saw the detective in his bed, sleeping.  He was thrashing around and sweating buckets.  Also, he was screaming.  Each scream broke John's heart a little bit more.

"Sherlock!" John yelled, approaching the bed.  It was middle of the night after John and Sherlock had kissed.  After Sherlock had said that he was gay and that he wanted John to be his.  Of course, John still had Mary to worry about.  How was he supposed to break the news to her that he was actually gay... especially with Sherlock Holmes?

Sherlock was unresponsive, so John shook him awake.  Sherlock practically jumped up from his nightmare with his heart racing.

"John?" Sherlock asked, tears running down his face.  

"Jesus, Sherlock.  Are you alright?" John asked.  Sherlock looked around the dark room.  He had been having a horrible nightmare.  The worst he had since the fall.  But John was there in front of him, a worried look sprawled across his adorable face.

"Nightmare," Sherlock explained, hoping he would be able to go back to sleep.

"What about?" John asked, sitting on the edge of Sherlock's bed.  

There was no point in lying.  Not when Sherlock had already told John how he felt.  "The fall," Sherlock frowned, his eyes darting down to the bed.  

"The fall?  But... you knew you'd survive.  Why... why are you having nightmares about the fall?" John wondered, unsure of why Sherlock would be having such nightmares.  John had nightmares about the fall all the time.  About Sherlock dying right in front of him and him not being able to do anything to save him.

"I wasn't the one falling," Sherlock said sheepishly.  

John looked at his love with his dark inky curls glued to his face with a nervous sweat.  It was unsettling for John to see Sherlock so distraught.  Sherlock was the cold one, the one that wasn't scared of anything.  But now, it seemed, he was scared of something.  He had a weakness.  John. 

"I'm not going to die, Sherlock," John reminded him.  John was the one who had to worrying about losing his other half.  The second that Sherlock went back to the drugs or if Moriarty decided to unkill himself, Sherlock was done for.  

"I know.  I would die a thousand times to make sure you live," Sherlock whispered.

John was going to cry.  Damn Sherlock for making him cry.  "God, I love you," John said.  He regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth.  Love.  Okay, so maybe Sherlock had admitted to liking him and they had kissed once.  But that didn't mean that Sherlock loved him, right?

Sherlock wasn't sure if he was ready to say he loved John.  In his head he loved him, but saying it was supposed to be some big thing.  Sherlock didn't want to say he loved him because he didn't want to hurt John.  So, he changed the subject.

"Will you stay with me?" Sherlock asked in a child-like voice.  

John raised an eyebrow.  "What, like sleep in your bed?  With you?"

"If you don't mind, of course.  I'm just... I'm scared," Sherlock whispered.  

John nodded and got into bed with Sherlock Holmes.  He kissed him on the forehead and held him in his arms until Sherlock fell asleep.  

"I'll never let you fall again," John promised.