A Sign Of Four [Johnlock]

Packed And Ready To Go

London, February 2nd

I woke up covered in sweat, pictures of the dream I just had still swirling through my mind.

I was breathing heavily and couldn’t believe what my brain had done to me. It was… ridiculous. Embarrassing! But mostly it was bloody confusing.

“John! Are you okay?” Mary was sitting beside me and had put her hand on my shoulder. Her eyes reflected worry and sympathy.

What was I supposed to say? Should I have told her about the dream? Definitely not! I just couldn’t. But I didn’t want to lie to her either. So I chose a middle way.

“Yeah, I think I’m fine.” Not a complete lie. I was shocked and confused but besides that I was fine, right?

“Just had a dream.” I admitted and hoped that she would just leave it at that. But of course she had to ask for more details.

“Just a dream about him.” I simply stated and she nodded understandingly.

She must assume that it was the same dream I had the last few years, where I relived Sherlock’s death again and again. She was used to it by now. Me waking up. Crying. Screaming. It was a little different every time. And it grew less intense over time. But overall it was the same situation over and over. But not this time. This was a completely new and different dream!

After I got up and ready in the morning I looked after Lizzy, who was totally fine and ate breakfast with Mary. Sherlock wasn’t anywhere to be seen and I was glad that it was this way. I really didn’t want to see him right now. I feared that it would be awkward even though Sherlock doesn’t know that I saw him with Lizzy and he definitely doesn’t know about the dream. But I just couldn’t cope with him right now. Just the thought of him made me a little dizzy and my cheeks began to burn. That stupid dream!

But of course there was no way I wouldn’t see him as long as he lived in my house!

Sometime around noon Sherlock came out of his room, all packed  and ready to go. He announced that the flat in Baker Street was now fully repaired and that he and Mrs. Hudson could move back in. Mary insisted on driving him home and I was left alone with Lizzy. As I sat in the rocking chair with her in my arms I felt relieved. My daughter was fine, my wife was fine and I was fine since Sherlock wasn’t staying any longer in our house. I didn’t have to be near him anymore and I felt relief wash over me that it wouldn’t come to an awkward confrontation.

Everything was perfect, but the dream still worried me…

And it sure as hell doesn’t help that I have to think about him every time now, when I see the rocking chair. Or my clothes I borrowed him. Or the quest room, where an idea of hiss smell still hangs in the air.

This is getting really disturbing!