Summary: Repost from kink-meme. John was abused as a child, and the scars never quite healed.
Once again I would like to thank everyone who has read and enjoyed Trust Issues. Thank you everI appreciate all the faves and story alerts, and I especially love all my reviewers. Thank you, FuzzyDeMash, FluffieBunniekins, 98Shaddowolff98, your-icequeen, SimpGirl87, ultraviolet128, TakeMeToTheStars, and CaptainBillyTheWerewolf. You're all amazing!
Notes: This is it for Trust Issues, I hope you enjoyed it!
Morning Always Comes
John doesn't remember falling asleep, but when he wakes up to bright sunlight shining cheerily through his window, Sherlock is still there, leaning against John's bed, his hand still inextricably linked with John's.
John stares at their joined hands for a long while. He would never have dreamed of asking anyone to do what Sherlock had done for him last night. This, he supposes, was probably why Sherlock hadn't bothered to ask.
He smiles fondly and cannot help but wonder what he had done to deserve having this man in his life. Whatever it was, he reflects, it could not have been nearly enough.
"Thank you," he says so softly he can barely hear himself as he tentatively runs a gentle hand through Sherlock's curly hair.
"You're thinking too loud. Stop it," Sherlock mumbles without opening his eyes, possibly still fast asleep. John wouldn't put it past his friend to be able to tell people off in his sleep.
John's smile becomes a grin and he laughs silently.
Once the laughter dies down he considers getting up. He gazes around his military bare room, at the light shining in through the window and finally at his flatmate. Getting up, he reflects, would necessitate letting go of Sherlock. He isn't ready to do that. Not yet.
He settles down in his bed again, his grip on Sherlock's hand tightening momentarily. He doesn't know what will happen when he wakes up again. He has no idea what his confession will look like in the light of day, what Sherlock will do or say now that he's heard the truth from John himself.
John should be terrified.
For some reason, though, he isn't.
He drifts off to sleep with a smile on his face.