Sherlock x reader One-shots

Sleep Please

The days are getting harder and harder to stay awake through. The past few days have been agony. I can't seem to get more than four hours of sleep before I abruptly wake up. I'm sleep deprived and I'm starting to become delirious.

I was sitting on the couch in our tiny flat and couldn't help but to be hypersensitive of everything around me. The drop of water that fell from the faucet that dropped every 3.45 seconds (yes, I counted). The blackbirds singing outside. The voices of the tourists on the sidewalk. The creeks of the flat that told me exactly how old it truly was...the list goes on.

To try to keep myself sane, I tried to study the wall in front of me. The intricate patterns of the wallpaper, the ash in the pit of the fireplace that was seldom lit during an autumn season such as this one, and the many books that cascaded over the room giving it an air of knowledge.

Pulling me out of my reverie, I heard footsteps stealthily coming up the stairs. Sherlock. He always climbs the stairs cautiously, probably a habit that has spawned due to the risks of his job. Coming through the door, I heard him slough off his coat and scarf, the fabric making a distinct noise.

Not realizing what state I was in, Sherlock promptly went to his chair and proceeded to flop down unceremoniously, causing my growing migraine to quicken it's haste in growing to its full potential.

Being sleep deprived, this irritated me beyond belief, so I finally snapped, "Do you have to be so loud when you come in!? There are other people that live here besides you!"

Shocked he said, "What's your problem?"

"Right now, you Sherlock."

Seeing slight hurt in his eyes, I immediately regretted my choice of words, "Look Sherlock, I haven't been in the best of moods lately. I'm sorry, but everything is ticking me off and you really aren't helping this migraine."

Realization was written all over his face when he got up and slowly walked to me, knowing that I was very sensitive at the moment to any noise.

Not saying a word, he slowly lowered himself near me on the couch and started to rub my temples with the pads of his middle fingers and kiss my forehead lightly.

I let out a relieved sigh, for he was distracting me from the pain. 

Now whispering he said, "Do you want some tea? I think it would help-"

I cut him off, "The kettle whistling would just make my headache worse, I don't think I can stomach anything right now anyway."

Nodding pensively he asked, "You should really start to get more sleep."

Opening my eyes and glaring at him I hissed, "You don't think I've been trying that!?"

Still whispering, "Sorry, sorry. I know you've been trying. What has been really bothering you though? Why do you think you haven't been able to sleep well?"

Before I could think the answer was already blurted out, "Because you're not there, and when you're not there I have nightmares, and when my nightmares start, I don't want to sleep because if I sleep then I have to face that evil and I can't deal with that."

Not realizing it, my eyes were brimming with tears, ready to fall at the next blink.

Sherlock,seeing this, shushed me very quietly and slowly pulled me into his chest. "I didn't know that my presence affected you that much... I'm sorry darling."

I just continued to cry in his chest. I just couldn't take it anymore. The constant worrying of where he was and if he was hurt. The nightmares that haunted me from my childhood. I couldn't deal with all this stress.

"Tell you what," he whispered in my ear, "You can go to bed early, and I promise I'll stay the whole night. I won't move a muscle."

Looking up at him, he softly grasped my face in his hands and wiped the flowing tears from my cheeks. Raising his eyebrows in a silent question, I nodded yes, not feeling as though my voice would be strong enough to talk.

With a small smile on his face, he slowly got up and graded my hand in his and led me to our joined bedroom.

When we both laid down, he piled the covers on top of us and pulled me to him.

With his arm around my waist and another under my head, he stared lovingly in my eyes and then pulled me closer to his chest.

Now buried in Sherlock's chest, he kissed my forehead and softly murmured, "I'll never leave you."

"Good," I said drifting off in hopes of getting a goodnights sleep.