Sherlocks POV
"Where is it?" I muttered.
I was in my mind palace, trying to find something. It was right there but not. Just beyond my reach. I collapsed. I couldn't do it. Why couldn't I do it? I almost didn't notice my breathing get faster. I needed to breathe. What had that therapist said years ago. Breathe in for three seconds, breath out for three seconds. Wait. I was still in my mind palace. I could be having a panic attack and not realizing it. Fuck. I quickly left my mind and sat up only to smack into something. "Ow." John cried.
"John?" I asked, holding my forehead. "Why are you?" I gestured to him being right above me. Not really a position that would scream best friend.
"You were crying out," he said softly. "You good?"
I nodded. "Sorry," I whispered.
Idiot, now you've gotten John upset. What else can you-
"Stop," John said breaking into my thoughts.
"What?" I whispered.
"You beating yourself up about something. I know you do it. Not everything the great Sherlock Holmes does has to be perfect, ya know?"
"But-"
He put a finger to my lips. "But nothing." He smiled at me. I love his smile. "I like my smile too."
My eyes grew wide. I said that out loud. I'm an-
He leaned down and kissed me. "Know what we said about beating yourself up."
"Sorry."
"You don't have to be sorry, love. Now come on. You're probably touch starved and I know you're sad so let's cuddle."
I raised an eyebrow. He smiled flipped up over. I blinked. "I uh-."
"Come here."
He pulled me close. I was quick to curl up his chest. I like this. I could get used to this. I smiled. My eyes grew heavy and I fell asleep to the sound of John's heartbeat.