Hello, Sabrina Sparrow here, with another story - something un-Valduggery for a change - for you all to read and hopefully enjoy :)

Basically, through the powers of fanfiction, tumblr, and deviantart, I have been turned into a Johnlock shipper. This is a story of how Sherlock and John discover their feelings for each other. Cutesy and fluffy moments will ensue. Rated M because as the story continues, their relationship will escalate, e.g. there will be scenes of a sexual nature - you have been warned!

STAY AWAY YOUNGLINGS!

Enjoy!

Sherlock woke instantly upon the moment he heard John scream. Already a handful of possible suggestions were running through his mind.

Intruder. Falling out of bed. Getting out of bed and standing on something sharp. A lewd dream–

Sherlock stopped himself.

Or a bad dream...

Sighing, Sherlock got up. He went to his bedroom door, but paused. Looking down at his bare body he realised he should probably put on some underwear first. He pulled on a pair of black boxers and made his way out onto the landing. He traded his usual elegant stride for a clumsy lumber as he reached John's door.

He rapped his knuckles against the wood. "John? Why are you screaming? Do you have any idea what time it is?"

"Go away, Sherlock!" John shouted harshly from the other side, although his voice broke on the last word.

"You were screaming, clearly something's the matter."

"What do you care?"

Sherlock frowned. "How am I supposed to sleep with all the screaming going on?"

"Just leave me alone!"

"I'm coming in."

"What? NO!"

Sherlock sighed. "You know that telling me to not do something just makes me want to do it more."

"Don't you dare come in!"

But Sherlock was already making his way into John's bedroom. He saw the blonde man sitting upright in bed, his face turned away from the Detective.

Trembling. Sweating. Clenched fists. Avoiding eye contact .Rapid breathing. Heavy chest rise and fall. Sherlock nodded. A bad dream.

"I told you not to come in."

Shaky voice. "Whoops."

"Could you leave now please?"

Sherlock softened his voice a little. "Was it another nightmare?"

"I..." John's voice hitched in his throat. "I don't want to talk about it."

Sherlock walked over to the bed and sat down on the edge, opposite the doctor. "John, look at me."

John was looking anywhere but at Sherlock. "No."

"John..."

"I said no, Sherlock."

"Please?"

John sighed and turned his head so he was facing the other man, but still didn't give him any eye contact, however Sherlock could still see the teary streaks staining his skin.

Tears. Still avoiding eye contact. Biting his lip to stop it from quivering...

Sherlock tried to be patient, but it was past three in the morning, and John was quite clearly upset and Sherlock knew, grudgingly, that he wouldn't be able to go back to bed until his friend's eyes were dry again.

Sherlock reached out and put his hands under John's square jaw and tilted his head upwards so he was forced to look at him. His eyes were red raw from crying, and he seemed to be ashamed to let Sherlock see.

"Tell me about it." Sherlock said gently. "Tell me what happened."

"You'll laugh at me." John mumbled. "I'm just being stupid."

"John, I won't laugh. I'd never do that." Subconsciously he ran his thumb over the other man's jaw line. "Please talk to me."

John hesitated before speaking. "It was a memory. I was back there. Back in the war. It was horrible. One of my oldest friends was there and he had gotten shot. They brought him to me but... but I couldn't save him. I didn't know what to do. I was too scared and I panicked and he died because of me." His voiced cracked. "I let my friend die."

John covered his face with his hands and turned away from Sherlock as he broke down into huge sobs. Sherlock pulled away as if John had stung him. He looked at the crying man before him, the one who was usually so level-headed and strong for the both of them, and he bit his lip hesitantly. He really had no idea what to do.

"John..." He began. "Please... don't..." Reach out to him, something in Sherlock's mind told him. He placed his hand on John's shoulder and squeezed gently. "Please don't... cry."

"Please leave." John mumbled through his hands. "I don't want you to see me like this. It's pathetic."

"No it's not. Everyone gets upset sometimes – everybody cries."

"You never cry."

"I haven't got anything to cry about."

"Therefore you can't sympathise with me."

"I can try."

John sighed. "Please, Sherlock, please just leave."

The Detective frowned. "I hardly think I'm going to leave you when you're like this."

"I don't need pity."

"No, but you need a friend."

John said nothing, he just shrugged Sherlock's hand off his shoulder.

Sherlock's frown deepened. "Hey, don't do that. Don't shut me out."

"Why not?" John muttered. "You do it to me all the time."

"That's because on me it works. Dammit, John, I am trying to comfort you, and you are going to like it!"

Sherlock shuffled closer to him on the bed and grasped his shoulders firmly, pulling him into an awkward hug.

"Sherlock!" John hissed.

"This is for your own good."

"Get off me!"

"Never!"

John kept fighting him for a few more moments before sighing heavily and melting into the slender man's frame. Sherlock was now able to wrap his arms abound John properly and pull him into a tight embrace. He was suddenly aware of the trembles that were wracking their way through the smaller man's body, and the way his shirt was becoming damp where John's face was buried into his shoulder.

"Shh." Sherlock soothed, pulling him in impossibly closer, rubbing his back in soothing motions. "It'll be alright."

"I hate myself for not saving him. You have no idea how much I hate myself for it."

"You were scared. You're only human. We all make mistakes sometimes."

"But my mistake cost a man his life."

"No one would blame you for it."

"His family would."

"They're a little biased though, wouldn't you say?" Sherlock pulled away slightly so that he could look John straight in the eye. "Listen to me, John. What happened wasn't your fault. Bad things happen and there's nothing you can do about it, but the best thing that you can do now is to move on. If I dwelled over every mistake I ever made, I'd probably have hung myself by now. So just give yourself a break okay? You're the greatest man I know, and you don't deserve to beat yourself up like this." He brushed away John's tears with his thumbs, running them lightly over his cheekbones. "It's going to be okay."

John sniffled and nodded. "Okay." He paused. "Sherlock?"

"Hmm?" The dark-haired man said, running his hands affectionately through John's blonde hair.

"Please don't leave me. I don't think I can be here alone tonight."

Sherlock smiled tenderly. "Of course I'll stay. I'll keep the nightmares away."

I hope you liked it, I'll update a.s.a.p. :)

xoxo