Johnlock One-shots

282.Panicking

Sherlock stared outside the window of his flat, his mouth parted slightly and his eyebrows furrowed. He tapped his fingers on his sides, then tapped his left foot anxiously.

He felt angry, for whatever reason, he felt the blood pumping through his veins, boiling, keeping him on his toes, alerted to every sound, movement, smell and sensation in the room.

His hands balled into fists and he yelled, slamming his fists onto the wall and letting out all of his screams. He put the top of his head against the wall and punched it again, making a hole through it. "Agh!"

Suddenly, he jumped at the slight creak of wood and turned around sharply, holding his hands up in a fighting position. "What do you want?!" He hissed, pulling out a pocket knife from his coat and holding it up.

"Th-there's no need for violence..." John whispered, stepping back and looking at the sharp bladed of the knife. "Put that down, Sherlock."

"John! What are you doing here?!" Sherlock flipped the knife in his hand and slid it back into its peaceful form. He put it in his pocket and stepped unnecessarily close to John, tipping his chin up and staring into his eyes. "You are John, right, John?" He looked up, then circled John, poking and touching and pulling.

"Hey, hey, hey," John stepped away from Sherlock's curiosity, fixing his jumper at where Sherlock was pulling. "I am John. You should know that more than anyone. I'm your best friend-- Sherlock!"

"What? I can't hear you over the sound of this table being flipped out of boredom!" Sherlock said, flipping the table and throwing the chair at the wall.

"I said--!" John was interrupted again when something whizzed by his face, he could feel the heat of it passing. John put a hand on the side of his head and turned around. "Why did you shoot an arrow at me?"

"You didn't say that before. I just now shot the arrow super close to you, you couldn't have said that."

"Uhm, yeah--" John was interrupted again when Sherlock jumped into his arms. He had to reach out and catch him before he could fall and get hurt. John wrapped his arms around Sherlock protectively, and the man clung to him like a koala. He wrapped his legs around John's body and hugged his shoulders, hiding his face against the man's neck.

John walked to the couch and sat down with his friend, who was gripping onto John, breathing heavily and shaking. John rubbed his back and tried to keep him calm. Without realising it, he started peppering kisses over Sherlock's cheek and neck. "Shhh... shh... it'll be okay soon, it'll be alright," he whispered, pulling Sherlock closer.

Sherlock continued shaking and he held onto John tightly. John hugged him, but he could tell sitting on the couch wasn't working. Maybe he could help him sleep. He stood up with Sherlock and went to his room. He laid Sherlock down in the bed and got in next to him.

He never really went in Sherlock's room, so he took a moment to take it all in before focusing on Sherlock. He pulled the man close, cuddling him protectively.

Sherlock, in whatever fit he was having, was calming down. He shakily set his hands on John's chest and leant his forehead against him too. John tried to calm him, but he kept yelling and hyperventilating.

"It'll be okay, Sherlock..." John mumbled, running his fingers through the man's hair. That seemed to be calming for the both of them.

John leant his cheek against Sherlock's head and pulled him closer. "I love you," he whispered almost automatically.

"I-I love you too," Sherlock said immediately afterwards, then closed his eyes tightly, moving closer to John.

John pulled all the blankets over them, trapping them in a bubble of warmth. Eventually, Sherlock really calmed down, and fell asleep against John.