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I had awakened screaming again. This was hardly unusual, no matter how much I wished it were. Had I only screamed on rare occasions, I might perhaps have been able to keep a friend.
As it was, I was relatively sure that soon, I would lose the only friend I had. I had already lost my career as a soldier and doctor. I had lost my health and my mobility.
I suspected that once I was alone, I would very swiftly lose my remaining shreds of sanity.
“Many, many apologies,” I said automatically when Sherlock Holmes burst into my room. Apologizing would do little good, but I couldn’t help it any more than I could help my nightmares. “I know it’s quite rude to keep screaming in the night, and that it’s disrupting your sleep.”
“Don’t worry about that.” Holmes shoved his candle onto my bedside table and wrapped his threadbare dressing gown more tightly around himself. “Dear me, dear me. It is a little chilly. Would you object if I climbed into bed with you?”
“Oh.” I froze, uncertain what to do or say. This wasn’t a situation I had ever been in before, let alone expected at the moment. “I’m… I don’t know that I’m healthy enough to manage that.”
For a moment, Holmes stared at me in confusion. Then his expression softened, and he gave one of his silent laughs. “As I find all things adjacent to sexual intercourse and romance to be as horrifying as the grasping tendrils of our rulers, you need not fear. I do not wish to engage in any form of ‘pleasure’ with you, Watson, merely prevent myself from developing hypothermia.”
“I wouldn’t be much of a doctor if I let you develop hypothermia.” The joke came out sounding quite hollow and weak. Wincing at the aches throbbing through me, I pushed the blanket back. “I’m sorry. I don’t… I don’t have an interest in those things either.”
“Ah! That is another little thing we have in common, then.” Holmes slid into bed with me and leaned against the headboard beside me. “It is unnecessary to apologize so frequently, Watson, as you have done nothing wrong. It is not your fault that you have nightmares, nor is there anything objectionable about a minor misunderstanding.”
I almost apologized for apologizing, and managed to stop myself in time. Instead, I focused on the trouble at hand. “It is perhaps not my fault that I have nightmares, but it is certainly the case that my screaming makes me an unpleasant companion. I would understand if…”
My attempt to speak failed, and I found myself tearing up. I was comfortable here, and did not wish to leave, yet how could I continue to deprive Holmes of sleep? I was aware that he struggled with insomnia already, and needed as much rest as he could get.
“There, there,” he said sympathetically, giving me a little pat on the arm. “It is all right, Watson. To dream of underground lakes with unknown horrors rising from the depths, and tentacles grasping and tearing at one’s limbs, seems to me a perfectly reasonable cause for screaming.”
“But you cannot sleep if I am screaming.”
Holmes shrugged. “I cannot sleep anyway, and I should prefer to exchange a little more rest for the pleasure of having a likeminded companion, and one who does not find my constant rehearsals or violin playing objectionable.”
I could find no easy argument for that, despite my lingering guilt. Holmes had told me of his own difficulties in finding anyone who wished to share rooms with an aspiring actor, particularly one with dangerous political views. He played the violin well, but at odd hours, and I had been awakened by it more than once.
“I am glad you do not wish to be rid of me,” I said at last. “Still, I wish…”
I yawned, losing my train of thought in the process. I had not had much success resting at all lately, and it was not aiding in my mental clarity in the least.
“You wish you could manage some sleep, I presume,” Holmes said kindly. “Well, well, I think we might be able to manage that. Would it trouble you if I remained in your bed? I certainly have no wish to emerge from this warm cocoon to brave the walk back to my own room, and perhaps the company would help you manage a little sleep.”
“I am uncertain if it will help, but I would not be troubled.” My mind moved slowly, and for a moment I could think of nothing else to say. Then, it occurred to me. “Thank you.”
Holmes hummed in reply, then promptly laid down beside me. I sank back under the covers, my own eyes closing at once.
I still did not know if I would manage to sleep, for my aches had worsened due to tension, and pain often caused still more intense nightmares. For the moment, though, I almost felt relaxed. Holmes was still my friend, and happy to stay with me. And thus, at least for now, I remained sane.