A Study In Love - A Johnlock Fanfiction

Chapter Fifteen

Soo good news! Since I'm too weak to do any heavy lifting I finished helping with the move early and had plenty of time to write. :) And what a great day for an update huh, with it being Benedict's birthday and all! 

Also, thanks to everyone for reading and voting and commenting and following!  I mean, almost 4,000 reads and over 100 votes?? It's unbelievable. So thank you guys so much, and here's chapter fifteen!

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Once John and Sherlock returned to the flat after a very interesting and chatter-filled lunch at 'The Vineyard', they'd spent the rest of the afternoon watching TV and playing Cluedo. John actually won a round and Sherlock had sulked for about fifteen minutes before demanding a rematch. He'd then gone on to win two games in a row before they decided to quit. Then John made some tea and they drank it while watching detective shows until late in the evening. John was particularly engrossed in one episode involving a stolen truck and an international drug ring when he thought he heard sounds coming from the couch.

"John," came Sherlock's muffled voice. John, who kept his eyes trained on the television screen just nodded his head in Sherlock's general direction to let him know he had his attention.

"Yes Sherlock?" he asked when Sherlock didn't continue speaking. There was still no answer, so John turned around in his seat to find that Sherlock was asleep. The detective was curled up on the couch, facing outward, both hands resting underneath his head as he slept. His eyelashes were fanned out over his cheeks, and his lips were parted slightly. His expression could only be described as peaceful.

He looked so unlike himself...so innocent. Like an angel child who had fallen asleep on the couch waiting for Santa to show up on Christmas Eve. For a while John watched him as he slept, his chest moving ever so slowly as he breathed. John's eyes scanned over his face, taking in every detail he saw. His eyes remained fixed on his pink, bow-shaped lips longer than anything.

Suddenly Sherlock's eyebrows furrowed and the corners of his lips turned downward.

"John..." His voice was barely above a whisper, but John still heard him say his name. Sherlock took in a deep breath and his frown became more prominent. He began tossing and turning and John heard a deep moan escape from him. John immediately rose from his seat and knelt down in front of the couch. His hand hovered for a bit over Sherlock's head before he gently stroked his curly hair.

"Sherlock," he said softly, "wake up."

Sherlock took in another deep breath and started tossing again, but John held his shoulders and kept Sherlock facing towards him.

"Sherlock, are you alright?"

Sherlock's eyes suddenly opened and he stared directly at John. All John saw in those multicoloured eyes were fear and confusion, two things he hardly ever saw in Sherlock. John watched as both emotions disappeared from Sherlock's eyes and he eventually calmed down. He sighed and let his head drop.

"Oh, John, thank God."

"What is it Sherlock?"

The detective sat up and ran his hands over his face. He shook his head and took in a deep breath. He let it out slowly, then looked down at John, who was still kneeling on the floor. Their eyes remained locked for a moment, and John felt a lump growing in his throat. Sherlock kept completely silent, and John remained on his knees in front of the couch.

"Are you alright Sherlock?" he asked in what he hoped was a gentle and soothing tone of voice. Sherlock just yawned and nodded his head, still not saying a word. John guessed he was still in the process of waking up. They both sat there for a few moments, not moving or saying anything while Sherlock seemed to be gathering his thoughts.