To Make Life Worth Living

~16~

John blinked, suddenly realising that he'd been lost in the memory for a couple of minutes. Sherlock was watching him with deep creases in his forehead.

The doctor coughed and shuffled in his seat, "I met him while in Afghanistan. He was new on base and brought me back in when I got caught out by an IED."

Sherlock nodded, he was relieved that John had finally answered.

John tucked one of his knees under his chin so he could rest his head. His psychosomatic leg injury preventing himself completely curling up on himself. He yawned which made his eyes water.

John's eyes shot to the clock on the wall, "Oh gosh, it's nearly 2am." He rubbed his eyes. They'd arrived late home anyway so staying up to talk had caused them to drift into the early hours. The doctor peered around the room, his eyes scanning along the few items. "I'm heading off to bed now but you can stay here if you want. I'll pull out the sofa bed and get you some blankets."

Sherlock hesitated before accepting.

John went quickly to go and fetch the bedding from the cupboard. He was back in moments and pulled the sofa apart with familiar ease. It creaked as it moved. The doctor laid out the blanket and pillows careful for Sherlock.

Sherlock watched him work with a ghost of a smile. He couldn't believe he'd allowed himself to grow so find of this broken, small Army Doctor. Mycroft has taught him much about keeping himself distant from people but somehow John had collided into his life when he was completely unprepared. He smiled.

"I have to get Hamish tomorrow." John murmured while smoothing out the blanket with military precision, "He was staying with Greg today and tonight so just ignore me if you hear me moving around tomorrow." He turned and looked up at the detective, "Goodnight, Sherlock."

"Good night, John Watson."

---

Sherlock Holmes was woken up by chaos. The sound of pans falling out of cupboards and a human tripping onto the floor. A loud moan resonated through the thin wall that separated the kitchen from the living room. The detective blinked awake into the pale light of early morning. The sounds of irrecoverable destruction sounded out causing Sherlock to hoist himself from the squeaky bed.

He pulled on his shirt and trousers to then hurry through to the disaster zone.

John was lying on the floor behind the small table with pans surrounding him. He opened is eyes upon hearing Sherlock step into the room.

"Man down." John chuckled gently, his grey eyes sparkling. "Sorry, did I wake you?"

"Not at all." Sherlock lied, grinning down at the man. He held out his hand and helped John clamber back onto his feet. "What time is it?"

John glanced at his watch,"Almost quarter to six. I just got called by Charlie at work, Dr Poolio is sick so they need a cover. She knows I can never say no so I'm heading in now."

"What about Hamish?" The detective leant his head like a confused puppy.

John sighed a deeply unhappy sigh, "Greg'll have to drop him off at daycare."

"What about me?" Sherlock perked up.

"What about you?!" Laughed the doctor, "I didn't know I'd have to plan your days for you!" He laughed again.

"No," He shook his head, "Why can't I pick Hamish up and watch him for you today?" He ran his violinist fingers through his disobedient curls which messed them up even more. He tried to look as honourable and trustworthy as he could.

John peered at him for a while in silence; Assessing and weighing up the dangers.

"Okay, if you go soon and collect him from Greg... But if one thing goes wrong you'd better be calling me before anything happens." He hesitated, "I'll be finished work at 4."

"Really? You're letting me care for Hamish?" He crowed.

John laughed, "Yes, don't make me change my mind!"