Insomnia: Part 3/? (Sherlock)

[matilda3948]

Hi all. Been having a bit of writer's block lately, but finally got interested in new story. It starts a bit slow but should have more sneezing at it progresses.

Part 1:

The first night, Sherlock barely registered John’s presence in the living room. Time was a relatively fluid concept in Sherlock’s world and though he thought it was three in the morning, it just as easily could have been noon.

By the third night, his interest had been piqued. John usually slept pretty regular hours (as much as Sherlock’s schedule would allow) and it was unusual for his flatmate to be up in the middle of the night. John didn’t say anything; just fixed them both a cup of tea and sat down in his chair.

The pattern repeated itself the next night as well. John would say goodnight and go to bed around 11pm. Then, sometime between two and three in the morning, he would come back downstairs and quietly drink tea, read, or blog for a couple hours before going back to bed briefly before work. Sherlock watched him over the top of the book he was reading. John looked exhausted, as though he barely had the energy to keep his eyes open but here he was sitting in his chair instead of in bed.

“Insomnia?” Sherlock asked.

“What?” John shook his head slightly and rubbed a hand over his face.

“Are you suffering from insomnia?”

“A bit. Yeah,” John said. Sherlock leaned forward in his chair, fingers together resting at his chin. John let his friend study him—at this point he’d welcome any insight Sherlock had, no matter how callously he would say it.

“I assume you’ve already taken some kind of sleeping pill?”

“Yeah. I’m exhausted I just can’t fall asleep. If I do I wake up a few minutes later.” A deep yawn seemed to underscore John’s point. Sherlock frowned.

“We haven’t had any near death experiences lately,” the consulting detective said.

“I know.”

“Your family’s in good health. No romantic entanglements at the moment.” Sherlock continued to rule out likely causes of John’s insomnia. “I’ve even been…behaving for the most part.”

“For the most part,” John smirked.

“This isn’t a PTSD flare up is it?” Sherlock asked quietly.

“No, nothing like that. I just can’t sleep.”

By the time the two men finished their conversation, dawn was breaking. Not for the first time, John wondered how Sherlock could look so fresh despite not sleeping all night. He hauled himself out of his chair and went to get ready for work. When John came back downstairs he found Sherlock deeply involved researching something on his laptop.

“See you tonight then,” John said, not expecting a reply.

He wasn’t surprised when he started feeling poorly that afternoon. How could his body possibly fight off a cold when he hadn’t gotten more than a couple hours of choppy sleep the last several days? John ducked into his private office for a moment to try and pull himself together. He grabbed a couple tissues from the box on his desk and blew his nose. He cleared his throat and checked his watch—he wasn’t sure he had it in him to finish his shift. John saw two more patients before having to seek refuge in his office once more.

huhh huhNTschh! huhCHHoo!

Great. John thought. A head cold was just what he needed on top of whatever bizarre issue was keeping him up at night. Three more hours, he told himself. Three more hours and he could go home.

By the end of his shift John sounded as bad as many of the patients he was treating. He was starting to feel lightheaded, but he couldn’t tell if that was the cold or just total exhaustion. The stairs at Baker Street seemed insurmountable—might as well have been Mount Everest. He was still on the fourth stair when the door opened and Sherlock stuck his head out.

“Hurry up, John. We have work to do.”

John bit back the urge to groan. Sherlock had that gleam in his eye that usually promised either a new case or a marathon session of experimenting—neither of which of John had the energy for. He finally made it to their flat and closed the door.

“Sherlock, I don’t—why is it so cold in here?” he asked.

“I turned the heat down.”

“Well I assumed you’d turned the heat down but why?” John asked.

“I’m going to cure your insomnia,” Sherlock said as though he’d announced he was going to cure cancer. John turned his head and sneezed into the crook of his arm.

huhMNschh! hhNCHHoo!

“Even I can’t cure the common cold yet, John. Let’s focus on one problem at a time, shall we?” When met with John’s utterly confused eyes, Sherlock nudged him towards the stairs. “Go up to your room. I’ll be there in a minute.”

TBC...

Edited August 6, 2014 by matilda3948

[cally]

Oh dear. I already feel bad for John. Poor lamb.

[AngelEyes]

“I’ve even been…behaving for the most part.”

Lol! I love that he actually comes up with that as a cause all on his own. A brief moment of outer awareness/sensitivity?

"Even I can't cure the common cold yet, John. Let's focus on one problem at a time shall we?"

Snarky. I love it!

[ebay34]

I'm liking this

[Seniorstatus14]

Awww poor John! Sherlock play nice and be sensitive

[ID2006]

Squeee, love where this seems headed.

[Lietome]

Love it!! Can't wait for more!

[matilda3948]

Thank you!!! Glad you're all liking this!

Part 2:

John walked into his bedroom and stopped short. It looked like the world’s most mismatched day spa.

“Sherlock?” he called. “What on earth did you do to my room?” Seconds later he heard Sherlock climbing the stair.

“I told you—solving your insomnia.” He walked into the room and put two cups of tea down on the bedside table and turned. “I spent the morning researching and have made some modifications. “

“Curtains?” John asked, nodding towards the windows.

“Blackout curtains. Keep out 95% of light.”

“Did you—you nailed them to the wall? Mrs. Hudson’s going to have your head,” John said.

“Don’t be absurd. Mrs. Hudson adores me. And nearly every insomnia website I consulted began with the suggestion for a cool, dark room.”

“Which is why you turned the heat down.”

“Obviously.”

“What’s with the weird music?” John asked, clearing his throat.

“It’s ‘Sounds of the Rainforest.’ It’s supposed to be calming. If you don’t like it I also downloaded ‘Ocean Waves’ and ‘Rain and Thunder.’ Now let me walk you through the other modifications to spare me the tedium of answering your questions one at a time.” Sherlock stood in the center of the room ready to launch into a theatric explanation the same as if he was solving a homicide. John held up a hand though and turned to the side, his breath hitching.

Huhh…ehh huhhNTsschh! hhNTCHHoo!

John froze.

“May I continue?” Sherlock asked. John shook his head, feeling a severe tickle just at the bridge of his nose. Suddenly he gasped and pitched forward with a fit of messy sneezes.

HuhhTSCHH! hhNTSCHH! huhTSCHH! hhKTSCHHoo! hhNKTSHHoo!

“Bless you, John.” Sherlock handed him a handkerchief and gave John a moment to blow his nose. “As I was saying, I’ve placed black tape over any LED lights in the room—alarm clock, DVD player, internet router, laptop, etc. I’ve burned lavender and jasmine incense, though with your cold I doubt you can smell it. There’s extra pillows and blankets on the bed, and I have taken the liberty of fixing you chamomile tea. Personally, I find the tea to be vile and some of these suggestions to be absurd, but they can’t ruled out until tried. I’m looking forward to collecting data on the topic.” John blinked, taking in the steps Sherlock had taken to create a space where he could sleep. Sherlock shoved a bundle of clothes towards John. “Go change,” he said.

John’s head was too fuzzy to argue and he took the clothes, then went to the bathroom to change and get ready for bed. His hands were shaking as he dug through the medicine cabinet looking for some cold medicine. John found a blister pack of nighttime cold pills and swallowed them with water from the bathroom sink. He looked at his reflection and frowned. The dark circles under his eyes bordered on cartoonish and the rest of his face was stark white. He coughed roughly into his fist and shut the light off, ready to collapse in his bed. He really hoped Sherlock’s efforts paid off; he was desperate for sleep.

John’s legs actually felt weak by the time he made it back to his bedroom. He sunk onto the bed and coughed into his fist. It was a harsh, barking cough that tore at his throat. When he finally opened his eyes, John reached for his tea. He had to agree with Sherlock—chamomile wasn’t the best, but he’d settle for plain hot water at this point. Sherlock was sitting in a chair near John’s bed, his mind working quickly. A box of tissues had appeared at John’s bedside while he’d been changing clothes and he grabbed a couple, holding them to his nose.

Huhh…ehh huhhNGTsschh! hhKTCHHoo!

“Bless you.”

“Thags. Christ, I feel bloody awful,” John said.

“Is there anything I can do?” Sherlock asked.

“Turn off ‘Sounds of the Rainforest’?” John asked. Sherlock looked affronted.

“But it’s supposed to be soothing,” he said.

“There’s a monkey howling.”

“Did you know monkeys have one of the most sophisticated systems of auditory calls of any mammal—”

“Sherlock!”

“Right.” He got up and went over to where his iPod was plugged in and muted the sound. “So, rainforest sounds are a bit not good. Which one do you want to try next?”

“Maybe we could just skip the music for now,” John said. When he saw Sherlock’s crestfallen look he added, “Just until I get over this headache, okay?” John could tell he was resisting the urge to argue, but finally Sherlock nodded and sat back down in his chair. He stared at John as the older man finished off his tea. He reached over and put a hand on John’s forehead.

“Sorry,” Sherlock said. “I couldn’t tell just from looking at you—not sleeping for four days and also being ill confuses the data.”

“What’s the verdict?”

“Mild fever,” Sherlock said. John nodded, reaching for the tissues. His nose was running and he knew he was going to sneeze again. He sniffled wetly and it caused his breath to hitch.

hehuhh…Huhh…

His head tilted back with each little inhalation, the tickle swelling in intensity then backing off just before John was able to sneeze.

heh Ehhh…huh…

“You look ridiculous,” Sherlock said. John half-laughed, half-coughed, and was finally rewarded with the long awaited sneeze.

huh HuhhSSCHH! hhKTSshh! huhSSHHoo!

“Bless you,” Sherlock said, holding out a couple fresh tissues. John nodded his thanks and then blew his nose before sinking back against the pillows with a congested sigh. “Well, that was entertaining,” Sherlock said. “Now, let’s get to work. We’ve already ruled out music for now. You’ve had tea and I’ve blocked out as much light as possible. Are you comfortable or would you like another blanket?”

“M’alright,” John said.

“I’m going to turn out this lamp and hopefully plunge the room into total darkness. Then I’m going to talk you through a series of deep breathing exercises.”

“You’re what?”

“Breathing exercises, John. Keep up.”

“I am not doing—”

“Conscious, slow breathing deep into the diaphragm has been shown to lower blood pressure, slow one’s heart rate, and many studies suggest it increases delta waves in REM sleep—which is precisely what we’re trying to achieve.”

John just shook his head. Who was he to argue at this point?

Edited August 4, 2014 by matilda3948

[CHOCOLATE <3]

This is hilarious, I love it XD

"STOP FIGHTING ME AND LET ME HELP YOU DAMMIT" XDXD

[ebay34]

This is good

[cally]

“Is there anything I can do?” Sherlock asked.

“Turn off ‘Sounds of the Rainforest’?” John asked. Sherlock looked affronted.

“But it’s supposed to be soothing,” he said.

“There’s a monkey howling.”

“Did you know monkeys have one of the most sophisticated systems of auditory calls of any mammal—”

OMG! I can't wait for chapter 3, as per usual, totally loving it.

[stargazer]

I am so loving this. Can't wait for the next chapter.

[Wildwood]

Oooh this is lovely. John, do come and suffer with me... haha can't wait for part 3!

[Seniorstatus14]

I'm LOVING this!! John and Sherlock's banter is cracking me up! Please continue soon! Amazing update

[ID2006]

I love these two

[matilda3948]

Thanks for the comments! I can't decide if this is the last section or not. I may write an epilogue explaining what caused John's insomnia or I may just leave it as-is. Guess we'll see if inspiration strikes :eyeroll:

Part 3:

Once John acquiesced, Sherlock drug his chair right next to the bed and switched off the lamp on the bedside table. The room was plunged into near total darkness, giving Sherlock just enough light to make out the edge of the bed and John’s body.

“Now then. I want you to start by closing your eyes and letting your body settle into the mattress.”

John did as he was instructed finding that Sherlock’s deep voice pushed away the initial awkwardness he felt.

“I’m going to place my hand on your abdomen,” Sherlock said.

“You’re what?”

“My hand, John. The appendage attached to my right arm with five digits. I’m going to place it on your abdomen.“ He didn’t wait for John’s response before reaching underneath the blanket and resting his hand on John’s lower stomach. John’s body was rigid and Sherlock rolled his eyes. “For God’s sake! Just relax. When you breathe, I want you to focus on trying to raise my hand. You need to breathe deeply and this should help you focus.”

“I don’t need your hand on my stomach to take a deep breath,” John said.

“Prove it.”

“Fine,” John snapped causing him to cough again. After a few seconds of listening to the hacking sound, Sherlock sighed and switched on the lamp, handing John a glass of water. He took a couple sips and then handed the cup back to Sherlock. “Thanks,” John sighed.

“John, I know what I’m proposing seems…unorthodox.”

“Seems bloody insane.”

“Be that as it may,” Sherlock continued. “Nothing you’ve tried in the last week has worked. Once you’ve ruled out the obvious, all that remains is the unorthodox. You’re exhausted and ill. What harm can come from trying this?”

“Fine.” John sniffled and slid down in the bed again. Sherlock switched off the light again and put his hand on John’s stomach. He observed John’s natural breathing pattern for a moment.

“You’re breathing is somewhat shallow,” Sherlock said. “Keep to a natural rhythm but focus on trying to inhale deep enough to raise my hand.” It took a moment, but slowly John was able to take a deep enough breath to raise and lower his friend’s hand. “Good,” Sherlock said quietly. “Breathe deeper, John. I know you can.” John closed his eyes and focused on the warm hand splayed out across his stomach. His respiration slowed as took deeper breaths, barely registering the occasional approving word from Sherlock. This was good. This was peaceful. This might just work.

John’s peace was suddenly interrupted a moment later by a powerful irritation in his sinuses. He wrinkled his nose and sniffed wetly. The tickle grew stronger and began to spread further down his nose. It took all his strength to lift his arm off the bed and rub his nose against his wrist. Unfortunately, it seemed that no matter what John did, he couldn’t quell the itch.

Sherlock noticed the change in John’s body immediately. His torso stiffened and his breathing grew shallow again. He silently hoped John was successful in holding back the sneeze; he finally felt like they’d been making some progress. By his approximation, Sherlock figured it would only take another twenty three minutes before John would fall asleep. However, he heard the telltale rapid breaths just before John’s body shook with a sneeze.

huh Huh ehh…hhNTSHHoo! huhtssschhh!

“Bless you.”

“Tha—huh Huhh…huhhtsshhhoo! hhssnschhh!”

John groped around in the dark until his hands brushed against the box of tissues next to his bed. He gave his nose a thick blow, having to stop and cough twice. Sherlock’s hand was still resting on his stomach and the detective could feel the muscles contract each time John coughed or sneezed.

“Sorry,” John said. He leaned back against the pillows with a congested sigh. “I actually think the deep breathing thing was working.”

“No need to sound so surprised,” Sherlock said.

huhSSCHHoo! hhTSCHHooo!

“Bless you.”

huh ehuhh hehTsschhh!

“Thags. Sorry about that,” John sniffed.

“Let’s try again,” Sherlock said. “Same as last time. Breathe deep into your diaphragm.”

This time John only lasted four minutes before sneezing again.

huh uhhTSSCHHoo! hhtsschhh! Tsschhooo!

“John, this is never going to work if you can’t stop sneezing!”

“It’s not huh hhNGSSCHHHoo! not like I cad huhktsschhh! NTsschhoo! help id!”

Sherlock sighed and ruffled his hair in frustration.

“I know you can’t help it,” he said, wincing at the nasty sounding cough coming from his friend. Sherlock sighed again and stood up. “I was hoping it wasn’t going to come to this,” he mumbled. He carefully made his way around to the other side of the bed and toed off his shoes. As John finished coughing, Sherlock laid down on the bed next to him and readjusted the blankets.

“What are you doing?” John rasped.

“Just resorting to my last option,” Sherlock said.

“What?”

“I’m…I read an article that suggested an alternative to the breathing exercise, which you obviously can’t manage in your condition. The lead author advocates maximizing body contact. As one person falls asleep, the insomniac tends to mirror that person’s heart beat and respiration. The data suggests that—”

“Sherlock!” John groaned.

“I’m…I’m going to lay here with you…and…put an arm around you so that we’re in close physical proximity and, hopefully, you will be able to relax and mimic my breathing until you fall asleep.”

“Only a Holmes could stretch the definition of “cuddling” into that many words,” John said.

“I don’t cuddle.”

“Yeah, me either,” John said, turning on his side. He grabbed a couple tissues and rubbed his nose before yawning. Sherlock rolled over and hesitantly put an arm around John’s middle, before spooning him from behind. Even though he couldn’t see John, he knew he was smiling.

“You’re a good friend, Sherlock.”

“Oh shut up, John.”

hhNTCHH! huhNSHHHoo! huh uhhTSSCHHoo! hhSCHHHoo! TSSHHooo!

The last sneeze immediately dissolved into a cough and Sherlock felt John’s body shake against him. The whole thing made him very uncomfortable. So far his research had proved fruitless and he couldn’t seem to do anything to help John. In fact, the data he had suggested that John was doing worse not better.

John needed a moment to catch his breath and he gradually became aware of the hand that was rubbing slow circles between his shoulder blades. John felt his feet brush against Sherlock’s and he curled up a little tighter, smiling as Sherlock matched his motion. His eyes were growing heavy and he could feel Sherlock’s slow, steady breathing. When the younger man draped an arm over him John rested his fingers against Sherlock’s pulse point, tracking the regular beat. He felt more relaxed than he had in days. John’s last coherent thought was, Damn. He’s right again. And then, John Watson slept.

Edited August 6, 2014 by matilda3948

[Seniorstatus14]

“I’m…I’m going to lay here with you…and…put an arm around you so that we’re in close physical proximity and, hopefully, you will be able to relax and mimic my breathing until you fall asleep.”

“Only a Holmes could stretch the definition of “cuddling” into that many words,” John said.

“I don’t cuddle.”

Haha! This story was so good!! I loved it! Especially this part. It made me laugh Thanks for writing!!!

[stargazer]

Awe...love how Sherlock was trying to help. Great story.

[ebay34]

That was amazing

[Zuki]

I think I may choke on the warm and fuzzies. This, ugh, I don't even have words for how much I love this...

[MoonDuck]

John’s last coherent thought was, Damn. He’s right again. And then, John Watson slept.

Isn't he always XD

Seniorstatus quoted the part I wanted to It's just so like amazing (the whiole story in general).

[Wildwood]

“I’m…I’m going to lay here with you…and…put an arm around you so that we’re in close physical proximity and, hopefully, you will be able to relax and mimic my breathing until you fall asleep.”

“Only a Holmes could stretch the definition of “cuddling” into that many words,” John said.

“I don’t cuddle.”

Haha! This story was so good!! I loved it! Especially this part. It made me laugh Thanks for writing!!!

This! I loved this story! Thanks for writing!

[ID2006]

“I’m…I’m going to lay here with you…and…put an arm around you so that we’re in close physical proximity and, hopefully, you will be able to relax and mimic my breathing until you fall asleep.”

“Only a Holmes could stretch the definition of “cuddling” into that many words,” John said.

“I don’t cuddle.”

Haha! This story was so good!! I loved it! Especially this part. It made me laugh Thanks for writing!!!

That was hysterical.

[Kali]

Yesss!!! Please please please update soon! You write these characters perfectly. Looking forward to more

[AngelEyes]

“So, rainforest sounds are a bit not good. Which one do you want to try next?”

A bit not good. One of my favorite lines!!!

Once you’ve ruled out the obvious, all that remains is the unorthodox.

Nice variation on the quote!

“Only a Holmes could stretch the definition of “cuddling” into that many words,” John said.

“I don’t cuddle.”

“Yeah, me either,” John said, turning on his side.

LOL!