donutsweeper | Perchance To Dream

Title: Perchance To Dream
Fandom/Warning/Rating: Sherlock BBC, none, rated G
Word Count: 247
Beta:

_medley_
Summary: John was dreaming. Maybe.
Author's Note: Written for the

watsons_woes amnesty prompts wherein 10 fics are written for 10 prompts and all are part of the same story arc. This is the eighth story, for the prompt "Playing in another sandbox." In this case, the sandbox is

travels_in_time's wonderful story "Adventures in Babysitting."

John thought he might be dreaming. He was lying in a bed, but the bed had bars along the sides like a crib. Maybe it was a crib. There might be people around as well, but everything was hazy and sounded like those announcements at a football game, tinny and warbled to the point of being unrecognisable. He didn't remember much of his earliest days, but he seemed to recall it was a time when everything was a bit confusing and he didn't quite understand the rules and he spent hours amusing himself as he had no playmates his age nearby.

Sherlock would have played with him. Sherlock, with his mass of curls and long limbs, would have loved poking about in the garden, building forts out of the sofa cushions and performing experiments with flour and water and random things from the pantry. The two of them would have been unstoppable. Armed with his trusty suction cup dart gun John and Sherlock would keep the neighbourhood safe from bullies and laugh about what fun it had been while having snack.

It would have been glorious.

Naptime wouldn't have been lonely either. Sherlock would be there to keep the monsters and nightmares away. He'd grab John's hand when John got scared and tell him not to worry, he wasn't alone all he had to do wake up and everything would be all right. Wake up, Sherlock would say.

"Wake up, John. Please wake up."

So he did.

The story continues in The Road To Recovery. The masterpost to this entire verse can be found here.