High Functioning Insomniac

Lost in a maze

Sherlock Holmes suffered from insomnia, he knew this and he also knew there was no point in trying to fight it, he regularly felt exhausted but he couldn't sleep because his mind was too erratic to sleep. His body needed to shut down but his mind was running a thousand miles a minute.

There hadn't been many occasions that his mind just shut off, they were rare enough that he could count all the occasions it had happened on one hand; that was before he had met John.

Sleep came a little more naturally, but it needed encouragement.

He was doing a blood analysis in his makeshift lab that was the kitchen of 221b, when he felt himself slowly growing to weak to stand so he slipped into a chair and continued his work.

He felt his shoulders sag further, maybe he would just collapse from exhaustion. It's not like it hadn't happened before.

In the past he'd collapsed from exhaustion, he'd even fallen asleep on cases but John had never been around then too see this, sleep only ever came when it was highly necessary no matter the occasion, he would get approximately 1-3 hours of sleep most nights, some nights he didn't sleep at all.

He felt a hand on his shoulder and he tried to right his posture so as not to give the game away.

"Go get some rest Sherlock, you need to sleep" John said softly, turning Sherlock so he was facing him, still sat on the kitchen stool.

Sherlock shook his head in protest but John's warm hand was already making him feel calm and drowsy.

"Go sleep, I'll tidy up, I won't touch your experiments" he assured him and offered Sherlock his hand to pull him off the stool, the detectives balance wavered and John looked up at him in concern, before smiling softly again.

"Go bed now" he said gently but sternly and Sherlock nodded, walking slowly past John almost as if in a daydream.

So Sherlock wandered off to his bedroom in a daze, falling face flat onto the soft white covers of his bed, feeling enveloped in drowsy warmth, he fell asleep voluntarily that day, at eleven minutes past five in the afternoon.

Timing may have not been perfect, but he knew one thing, John's small gestures had helped guide him through the maze to sleep, the hedges representing his insomnia.

That was the first time John helped with his insomnia, little did he know there were more times to come.