(John)
My eyelids were heavy with sleep. It had been a merciful nights rest, with no nightmares; that startled me. I hadn't been sleeping because I kept having a reccurring dream. The fall. Repeated a few times a night. It had gotten so bad, I'd began to try going without sleeping. A strange noise made my eyes flash open. I quickly glanced around and immediately realized where it had come from. "I must be on tons of medications" I thought to myself. That was the only possible solution. I began to recall what had happened to put me here, in a hospital. I immediately began to realize why I was seeing Sherlock. The drugs must still be in my system.
Hopefully it would leave soon so that I wouldn't have to pretend not to see Sherlock. I hated when this happened, because every time I went to grab him and confess to him, he disappeared. I sighed longingly, and stared at the beautiful curls on my dead best friend's head.
Suddenly, he began to stir. "Oh great" I thought to myself. I knew what came next; it had happened plenty of times before, where I'd began to tell him how much I missed him, and confess the real reason I was so torn up about losing him. I knew he wouldn't; couldn't, return my feelings. That was why I hadn't told him in the beginning.
I reached out but a gasp of pain escaped my lips.
Quickly, as if he has been shot, Sherlock jumped up. He quickly glanced at me and a look of warmth and relief spread over his face. This was new. None of the other times had Sherlock been happy to see me; he always was there to torment me by telling me how "unnatural " my feelings for him were.
As I glanced into Sherlock's gorgeous eyes I began to cry. I knew it was irrational, since MY Sherlock couldn't be here, but for once, I felt comforted by his presence. Sherlock began to look very confused at my reaction, because he began to walk away.
"Wait!" I croaked. My voice sounded awful. I tried to clear my throat, but that turned into a fit. Sherlock looked alarmed, and pressed the button for the nurse. Then he turned back to me, with tears glistening in his eyes.
"John" he said. Just that was enough to make me begin to bawl. I could barely handle the visions normally, but with the drugs, it was impossible to hold myself together.
Sherlock walked quickly to my side and began to pull his fingers through my hair and comfort me in many ways. There was another reason it couldn't really be Sherlock. He didn't know how to comfort anyone. If he messed up, it was a big deal to get an apology from him, but this was amazing. I was beginning to like this Sherlock my mind had made up.
Just at that moment, the nurse finally showed up. She took one glance at me, and sighed. She began to come forward and- wait. Why was she talking to Sherlock? How could she see him? I thought he was just in my head! I began to try to sit up, but my head felt fuzzy. Sherlock quickly realized the problem, and helped lower me back into bed. As the nurse began to give me medication, I quickly called out "Sherlock!" Before he walked out. He looked at me, pained before walking to sit next to me in the chair.
"Are you really there?" I asked. After a minute of thinking, he finally replied. He seemed a bit nervous when he said "Of course John, why wouldn't I be?"
That idiot! If he was telling the truth, then the was here in person after he has pretended to be dead for years! I was just about to say something, before the medicine kicked in. I grabbed Sherlock's hand right before I fell unconscious once again.
(Sherlock)
My mind was working in overdrive now. John had been having visions? He had obviously been seeing me, as he asked if I was real. What I wondered though, was if that was why when he first saw me, he had seemed frightened. What had he been seeing? As I looked at John, I realized that I couldn't leave him again; we needed each-other. I smiled lightly as the nurse left, and laid next to John on the bed, while taking his hand protectively.