Oneshots, imagines, and ideas, oh my! *discontinued*

Sherlock Preferences

Sherlock Preferences-Sherlock, John, Mycroft, Jim--You have a nightmare

Warnings: Really nothing. Hmm. I'm proud of myself! I can't believe I...oh. ONE BAD WORD. Damn. WAIT! Ugh. I can't win. Two bad words. *shakes head miserably*

Sherlock Preferences

Sherlock Holmes

Sherlock, infinitely bored with everything in the flat, decided that he would wake his girlfriend, Y/N, up. She had the habit of eradicating boredom just by being in a room, so he decided that she had gotten enough sleep. This was a selfish thought, as it was three in the morning, but she had long since accepted such habits from Sherlock. He walked into his room to see her curled on the bed, loosely covered by only a black silk sheet, eyes closed tightly. He immediately started a round of deductions, which was very hard while she was asleep, but he realized very quickly that she was having a nightmare.

She clutched the sheet tighter, suddenly, alerting him that it was getting worse. Boredom forgotten, he felt the need to be there for her, and sat down on the bed next to her. Compassion was a foreign emotion for him, none the less he had a sudden burst of it. It's funny, how much people really understand in the heat of the moment. He rested one hand on her shoulder and used the other to brush hair away from her face. She let out a minute whimper, still riding out the dream, and he remained there, next to her, until her sleep calmed down.


Eventually, it did, but it took him a few moments to actually leave her. As he did, she rolled over, as if searching for him, but remained asleep. Sherlock, content that she was out of the storm, left the room and closed the door, deciding that he could go a few more hours without her.

John Watson

He hadn't been sleeping.

Well, he had, just not that night.

Blame it on paranoia or PTSD, or even the fact that his mind was busy with Sherlock. Ever since the fall, he had a rough time of it. Luckily, Y/N was there, in every way upwards of perfect. He knew exactly how lucky he was to have her, and relished in it. On this particular night, though, sleep evaded him, and he came to terms with it. Instead, he sat in the chair by the bed with the lamp on, book open on his lap, content to just be in the room with his sleeping wife. He had spores of flashback dreams since he lost Sherlock, but he found comfort in the fact that he never woke alone.

Most people wake up from dreams alone, even married ones. Their lover is asleep, perhaps even against them, but still, they woke alone. John had found that his waking typically didn't wake Y/N up, as she was a thick sleeper, but he still found her moving in her sleep. It varied, night to night, but she always struggled to find his hand, an unconscious gesture of faith in him. He had gotten into the habit of lacing his fingers with hers every time he woke up, nightmare or not. It was the little things, in every relationship.

Something made him look up from his novel, something that he couldn't quite place, to see Y/N turning in her sleep, face laced with fear, or discontent. He almost immediately realized what was happening, but before he could make any moves, she had jerked up, breathing heavy. A pool of dread filled the bottom of his stomach as she sat staring forward, eyes unseeing. She didn't notice him. She had just woken up alone. Finally, she looked up at him, to see him reading, and gave him a weak smile.

"Sorry, just an odd dream." She didn't lay back down though, another sign that she had really had a true nightmare, one that shocked her to the core. Instead, she got up and went into the restroom, leaving him to stew in quiet regret. For all the times she had been there for him, he wasn't there for her. It didn't really matter if the dream was about time spent in the war or a giant spider on the rampage, because her quiet sobs alerted him that it had been a real whopper. He clicked off the lamp and got into bed, and a few minutes later she left the bathroom and retook her place. He took her hand and laced his fingers with hers.