Eastern Winds (JohnLock)

Chapter 32 - PTSD

A/N: Guys. I have finally left for study so hopefully I'll be writing more! love you all!
-Eden x

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John's P.O.V;

After placing my plate down on the bedside table I slammed the door to the bedroom making sure I left the door frame rattling, It's like he knew just how to press my buttons. I began digging into my lukewarm dinner ferociously before my mind began to wonder. Within a few seconds we had gone from flirtatious to screaming at one another, well, me screaming at Sherlock. Oh God, he just sat there, his jaw hanging loose in shock. The man was utterly defeated all because I'd lost my bloody temper! I just can be babied anymore, but I think I may have overreacted. Shit. I've over reacted.

I finished what was left of my bangers and mash before setting down my knife and fork on the plate. I needed to apologise, I was out of order, I shouldn't have said anything at all! I need to learn to keep my mouth shut. shit, shit, shit.

There was a light knock on the door causing me to groan inwardly, how do I even begin to apologise...

Gazing up at him apologetically I saw his expression mirror my own. His eyes scanned me as I sat up right on our bed where they rested on my hands where one was nervously picking at the other. Sliding the tray off of my lap I sank to the edge of the bed motioning for Sherlock to join me. I placed my hand on his knee before starting. "Look, Sherlock, love... I-"

"John, stop." he sighed, placing his hand on top of mine. "You have nothing to apologise for, It is true, I have been stifling you. However, that is not the reasosn you lashed out tonight, I've had my suspicions but tonight you confirmed them."

"Sherlo-"

"John, you are a doctor, and a retired soldier. you know the symptoms. The nightmares resulting in insomnia, the guilt which you are currently feeling for your outburst and not to mention the irritability..." Oh God. It's happening again, how could I have been so transparent? I should've seen it myself, it's just like before.

"PTSD" my voice was barely a whisper as sherlocks embrace brought me back to the world around me which appeared to be still standing despite the fact I was currently falling to pieces. Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. I've had enough of this to last a life time, after afghanistan. Fucking Moriarty just had to drag it up once again. I hadn't realised that I was sobbing into Sherlock's chest until I moved my hands to rest there only to feel his sodden shirt which had become saturated with my tears. Sniffing and wiping my tears I corrected my posture and put on my soldier facade. After a few deep breaths I was stood infront of the mirror fully composed once again and staring at my reflection in the mirror. I noticed the tear stains running over my slightly flushed cheeks and my eyes were all puffy and red. All of that would dissapear in a matter of minutes but the scars that littered my shoulders would not.

Even though they were hidden beneath the white t-shirt they remained constant reminders of the pain I've expirienced, the first time I remember before falling unconcious and I begged for my life, regretting I'd not truly lived. The second, the only thing that I knew was that I couldn't leave Sherlock behind. However, they're also constant reminders that old wounds heal. I sensed Sherlock approaching me before I saw his reflection appear behind me, I sheepishly smiled at his reflection and he slid his arms around my waist.

"Even when you're crying you are beautiful, John Watson." I leaned back into his chest letting his arms tighten around me. "You're going to get past this, you've done it before alone. Never again will you have to be alone, I will be here for you always"

"I love you too you daft sod." I continued to stare at us in the mirror, we seemed like such an unlikely pair but we fit together like two pieces of a puzzle "Look Sherlock, I know you said there wasn't any point in apologising, no, stop opening your gob for one minute and let me finish. Everything thats happened to me isnt your fault, I want you to promise me you will never ever blame yourself. I dealt with Afghanistan alone because I simply had no choice, I shouldn't have brought that up in any way shape or form. This whole thing with Moriarty, this isn't you either. I could've done a runner but I chose to stand by you like you plan to do for me in this whole mess." I turned in his arms and kissed him softly before burrying my head in his chest once more. His fingers running up and down my spine were incredibly soothing so we just stood there for longer than I care to think about. There was an ocassional mumble of "I promise John," or an "I love you." We ended up under our sheets once more and drifting off to sleep in eachothers arms.

I would get through this with my detective beside me.