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John cannot fathom how Sherlock is getting enough sleep to continue to function, or whatever passes for functioning in Sherlock's world. John knows he himself would do better if he didn't wear himself into a state of exhaustion every evening; unfortunately his nightmares make anything else impossible. John doesn't know if Sherlock has nightmares of his own, but every time a nightmare wakes him John can hear Sherlock, still moving, still wearing a hole in the floor with the strength of his thoughts.
After a couple of days, John is used to it. He's certainly slept under worse conditions, and there's something comfortable about Sherlock's guaranteed presence. As soon as he has that thought John has to consider if perhaps Sherlock has been predicting when John would wake from a nightmare and made an effort to be awake and make noise so as to provide that comforting presence.
The idea is dismissed almost immediately as ridiculous. Sherlock doesn't display that kind of attention to people, he displays it to problems. John has been looking for exceptions to that rule, but he rather doubts they would be this blatant.
Some nights the nightmares, or memories really, are worse than others. On particularly bad nights simply knowing that he's in the flat he's renting, in London, isn't enough. John has to prove it.
Once he's gathered his cane, John follows the sounds of Sherlock to the kitchen. He isn't sure what Sherlock would look like truly startled, but he knows that he doesn't have any particular desire to find out. It isn't hard, what with the cane, for John to make a fair amount of noise.
Sherlock still doesn't seem to notice him (unusual event number one); he's standing, staring at the microwave.
"Is this about the experiment with the eyeballs?" John asks. Sherlock still hasn't turned to look at him.
Sherlock does turn then, looking startled at himself (unusual event number two). John can see Sherlock gathering his thoughts (unusual event number three) before blinking a couple times and assuming control of the situation. "Of course it is," Sherlock says, "But I believe you might have made that experiment quite unsuitable."
"Oh. I am sorry."
"No, no, you've supplanted it, because you're better."
John is quite sure he's not supposed to feel flattered, but that doesn't change the fact that he does. Sherlock is generally far too observant for his own good, so John finds some hurt to channel into his voice. "I'm an experiment."
"You couldn't be an experiment. I can't manage the necessary emotional distance." Sherlock says it like he considers the lack of distance a failing.
John sees no point to asking Sherlock to elaborate, not when Sherlock will explain just as soon as he has his thoughts in order.
"When you came in I was standing right here?" Sherlock moves back to face the microwave. He sounds like his own behaviour is a problem to solve.
"Your hand was on the counter." John can't remember any more details than that, or even how the hand was positioned. Sherlock doesn't ask for more details, which means the goal of this isn't to test John's own observational skills.
"Good," Sherlock says. "Excellent."
"What is this about?" John asks.
"Oh, I sleepwalk. Now, I trust you've been distracted sufficiently from your nightmares. Don't let me keep you any longer."
The next time a nightmare wakes him, John thinks he could easily fall back to sleep, but he can hear Sherlock pacing and can't help but think that Sherlock wanted him as an observer for his sleepwalking.
When John makes it to the bottom of the stairs Sherlock glances up at him from his position in his armchair. "I'm fine, and very much not asleep."
"Yes, I can see that. Are you watching television without the sound on?"
"As you said, watching. Their voices only annoy me; they're all so unbearably slow to understand."
John considers that for a moment. "I didn't mean to bother you."
Sherlock waves a hand imperiously. "Stay if you'd like."
John isn't sure why, but he does settle into a chair of his own to watch Sherlock watch whatever crime show it is that he has on.
They sit in silence for another three or four minutes before Sherlock sighs and turns the television off with a muttered curse. Watson is fairly certain that the episode is no more than a quarter done. "You'd think that if they were going to sacrifice character development for plot they could at least have decent plot."
"You solved it then?"
Sherlock nods. "Yes."
"Explain it to me how you did it?" John leans back in his chair, letting Sherlock's voice wash over both of them. Sherlock seems to relax as he talks, even if he shows no signs of being tired.
The next time John wakes from a nightmare he rolls over and goes back to sleep. Spending time with Sherlock is pleasant, but it's not such a rare commodity that John feels any particular desire to give up his sleep on a regular basis. Besides, Sherlock doesn't need John to watch over his sleep.
The time after that, when John is startled from sleep he notes Sherlock standing at the foot of his bed. "Can I help with something?" John asks, wondering only after he says it what would possess him to respond in such a manner.
Sherlock doesn't respond, and John's now more alert brain takes in the indicators that Sherlock is less than aware of his surroundings. Sleepwalking again, then. John isn't quite sure what to do with the information.
John removes himself from his bed and steps to Sherlock's side. "It's good," he says without knowing why. "You can go back to sleep now."
Sherlock walks with him back to his own room, and lies down on his bed without having woken up. John watches him sleep for a couple of minutes before he catches himself and heads back to his own room. He's too wound up to go immediately back to sleep himself.
The next time John wakes to see Sherlock standing over him John attempts to ignore him and go back to sleep. It's a little too weird in the end, even for him, so John walks him back to bed again.
"Do I still sleepwalk?" Sherlock asks. Lestrade called them in on a case and Sherlock said that he rather needed to consult with John. John doesn't know whether Sherlock has completely figured out the case and is trying to make it seem harder so he doesn't hurt Lestrade's feelings or if he's still gathering evidence. Either way, he clearly doesn't want to consult with John about the case.
"You do." John does his best to look serious; he has no desire to give up Sherlock's ruse.
Sherlock looks quite puzzled for a couple of seconds, before grinning. It's the kind of grin that doesn't have anything to do with the actual deduction Sherlock has made, rather merely to the fact that there is a deduction. "And is it hard to convince me to return to my bed?"
"No," John says. "Not at all."
Sherlock suddenly leans in close, ignoring the usual rules about personal space to mutter in John's ear. John thinks it would be better for his chances of self-control if Sherlock stayed further away, but he's not precisely willing to object to Sherlock's presence. "Where do I go when I sleepwalk?" Sherlock murmurs, in a tone of voice that John can't help but think would be better suited to, well, other questions.
John swallows before answering as neutrally as he can manage, "My room."
Sherlock nods at the answer, considering, before stepping back and raising his voice. "Inspector Lestrade, I have it!"
The next time that John wakes to find Sherlock in his room Sherlock's eyes are alert, darting over every detail of John's room. John wonders what he sees.
"You're sure I come here?"
"Positive," John says.
Sherlock leaves without saying anything further, after one last glance around John's room.
"I need your help," Sherlock says the next morning.
"Yes?" John says. He knows far better than to agree without hearing the proposition.
"I need you to sleep in my bed tonight."
John considers. "And where would you sleep?" John isn't sure if he'd rather Sherlock sleep in the bed with him or somewhere else.
"Either the sofa or your own bedroom. I don't want to intrude."
John can't help but be amused at the thought of him sleeping in Sherlock's bed while Sherlock sleeps on the couch. "You can sleep in my bed, it's fine." It's more than fine, actually. "Why are we doing this?"
Sherlock just grins fiercely, challenging John to try to wheedle an answer out of him. John doesn't think he'd be very successful.
John lies in Sherlock's bed, wishing he had Sherlock's powers to catalogue and remember everything, to deduce Sherlock's existence from his bedroom. He wonders if anyone other than Sherlock, and now him, has ever been in Sherlock's bed before. John doubts it, but he doesn't know whether that's a product of hope or observation.
Despite the rarity (John isn't willing to admit that this might be the only time he sleeps in Sherlock's bed) of the circumstances, John finds it easy to relax and then sleep.
He isn't surprised to wake and see Sherlock standing just inside the doorway. That doesn't mean that John has thought through to what to do now.
"Sherlock?" John says to verify that Sherlock is sleepwalking, not that there could be any doubts, given the way Sherlock is holding himself, his shoulders slumping and his eyes unfocussed.
There's no response, and John decides the logical thing is to have Sherlock sleep in his own bed for the rest of the night. The sleepwalking Sherlock agrees fairly easily, but as he lies on the bed he takes a hold of John's wrist. John considers how easy it would be for him to give in, to lie on the bed next to Sherlock and in the morning explain what had happened. It's also (physically) easy for John to lift Sherlock's thumb and remove his hand in order to return to his own bed.
"I've figured it out," Sherlock announces at breakfast.
"Yes?" John has had ample time to regret his decision not to let Sherlock pull him into bed last night.
"You're safe."
John raises his eyebrows. Sherlock must be selectively oblivious to have an impression of safeness.
"That's why I'm sleepwalking to wherever you are."
"I see," John says, even if he really doesn't.
"Yes, well, we can't all be brilliant. You're safe, don't you get it?"
John shakes his head.
"If we sleep together then I won't need to go sleepwalking. I'll disturb you less and my own sleep will be more solid."
"Sleep together." John usually makes more of an effort not to parrot Sherlock back to himself, it's the least he can do.
"Yes." John is about to dismiss the possibility that Sherlock could have meant anything less innocent than simply sharing a bed together when Sherlock winks.
It's a week later. John's head is pillowed on Sherlock's shoulder when John's phone chirps with a text message. John mutters an apology; he had thought he'd turned it off before bed but he'd been more than a little distracted.
"It's from my brother," Sherlock says.
"What's he want?" John knows Sherlock doesn't need his permission to read his texts, but he feels better having given it.
Sherlock laughs suddenly. John lifts his head off Sherlock's shoulder to look at him. "He wants you to know that I don't sleepwalk and never have."