Johnlock - Grow old with me.

Chapter 8 - Nightmares

In the end John had stayed over at Stamford's house. He'd been walking the streets of London most of the night because he was so agitated and distraught. He couldn't get over the fact that his best friend- whom he loved dearly- would do this to him. Stamford was his last resort and luckily had agreed to let John stay for a few days.

John would have to find somewhere else after those 2 or 3 days though, because Stamford was going away for a job conference. Therefore the house was being rented to his parents and John would have to leave. That was a slight problem for John. He couldn't afford a new place yet and he wasn't going back to 221b.

The only resort he had was to sleep in his surgery's office; it had a bed at least.

So after three days of staying at Stamford's, John packed his stuff and headed to his surgery. He'd said goodbye to Stamford that afternoon and thanked him for the lodgings before he left. The taxi journey was short and John was setting up his office to sleep in at 10pm.

He lay on his couch in his office, not really fancying the use of the patient bed, and listened as drunken people and traffic walked passed his window. He wasn't afraid to admit that he felt alone, it was like the army days all over again: No home to go to, just a battle to fight and people to help.

John was aware of the 15 voice messages and calls from Sherlock on his phone, but he didn't care to listen or answer them. He wasn't going to forgive Sherlock like every other time he did something insensitive. This was too big a deal for a simple sorry. Sherlock's 20 texts were annoying too; John ignored them as they kept pinging through.

John. I said I am sorry, please come back? - SH 

John I need your help with a case. Will you please come quickly? - SH

This is ridiculous. I didn't mean to hurt you John, you know how I get sometimes. I forget about rules. - SH

John... - SH

John, do remember where I put my dressing gown? - SH

Oh wait. We are not talking, are we? Ignore that last text. I found it anyway.

-SH

Okay I really need you, John. Please come back...It's urgent. - SH

Seriously John, I need you. I've accidentally set my dressing gown on fire and I can't seem to stop it. - SH

Never mind. I threw it out the window and Mrs Hudson stomped it out. She looks a little angry though, I don't know why. I'm the one that just lost their favourite dressing gown and has to buy a new one. I was rather fond of that dressing gown. - SH

Okay. You're not answering. I guess you really are angry... I'm so sorry John. I hope one day you can forgive me. - Your best friend...

John scrolled through the messages and let out a sorrowful sigh. He did miss Sherlock, but he couldn't forgive him yet. This was too big a thing to simply forgive after 3 days.

John pulled the blankets around himself on his couch and fell asleep. It was eerily quiet and his dreams weren't good. They were vivid nightmares that shook him awake at 3am. His face was clammy and he felt shivers radiate through his body. Usually when he had his war nightmares he would have a cup of tea, however it was usually Sherlock that he would do that with and he wasn't there.

John wiped at his forehead with a tissue from his desk and lay down once again to try and sleep. However sleep wouldn't come. All he could think about was Sherlock. He lay awake for the rest of the morning thinking about what he should do, before he got up to open his surgery for a busy working day. He had a big decision ahead of him.