Nightmare (Johnlock)

                                    

                                          
John tossed and turned in his bed, his blankets long thrown off in his struggle. His body thrashed, his eyes screwed shut, tears pouring down his face. His chest was heaving, struggling to breathe properly. He saw his friend jump, over and over again. Each time failing to save him, not running fast enough, no matter how hard he tried. He shot up in his bed, covered in sweat, trying to remember how to breathe, the image of Sherlock's mangled body and bloody face, etched into his mind, tormenting and haunting him. As soon as he was aware of reality again, he curled up on his side and wept for his loss. After a while, he felt a hand on his shoulder and warm heat radiating of someone next to him. He was about to open his eyes but was stopped by a voice. An impossible voice.
                          
 "John", was all they said. John's face crumpled up in agony, the tears falling faster.
                          
 "John, open your eyes", they said. John shook his head.
                          
 "Why not?"
                          
 "You're not real". If John had opened his eyes, right there and then, he would have seen the hurt look on his friend's face.
                          
 "I am real"
                          
 "You're not real. Just like all the other times. It's a trick"
                          
 "I'm real"
                          
 "You're not. Please. Go away. Leave me alone"
                          
 "Reach out to me. I'm real"
                          
 "... Promise?"
                          
 "I promise"
                          
 John cautiously reached his hand out, slowly edging forward, shaking. 
                          
 "Almost there"
                          
 He reached further and when he was met with warm skin, he jumped back. He sighed deeply and held his palm flat on his friend's face and then opened his eyes. Sherlock hadn't changed a bit, he looked as young as ever, if not a little paler, with dark circles underneath his eyes.
                          
 "Hello John"
                          
 "S-Sherlock?"
                          
 "Yes"
                          
 He jumped on Sherlock, wrapping his arms around his waist desperately. Almost squishing Sherlock to death, tears once again running down his face, happy tears. 
                          
 "You left me"
                          
 "I know. I'm sorry"
                          
 "Why didn't you tell me?"
                          
 "I couldn't"
                          
 John burrowed his face into Sherlock's neck and took a deep breath. 
                          
 "I love you"
                          
 "I love you, too"