An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapters: 2/2
Fandom: Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms, Sherlock (BBC TV 2010)
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson
Characters: Sherlock Holmes, John Watson
Additional Tags: post-tab, Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, Sickfic, Fever, Illness, Caretaking, bed sharing, Cuddling, Holding Hands, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Vulnerable Sherlock Holmes, Soft Sherlock Holmes, John Watson Takes Care of Sherlock Holmes, Sherlock Holmes Has Feelings, Sherlock Holmes Needs a Hug, John Watson is a Good Friend, John Watson is a doctor, Pining, Mutual Pining, POV Alternating, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff and Angst, Domestic Fluff, Morning After, Rain, Silence, Character Study, john watson's POV, Sherlock Holmes's POV, Mycroft Holmes Being Mycroft Holmes, Mary Morstan Being Awesome, Soft, Slow Burn, Getting Together, First Kiss, Romance, Love Confessions, Emotional Constipation, Idiots in Love, Alternate universe - canon divergent, Canon-Typical Behavior, OOC, Author Is Aware of OOC, Timeline What Timeline, Not Beta Read
Summary:
When you have a fever, you go soft.
First the bones give way. The proud frame collapses, the spine curls into the duvet, folding into a small, stubborn shape that refuses to ask for help.
Then the lips soften—the dry, cracked lips that can’t quite manage a cutting remark. All they can murmur is one word: cold.
And finally, the hand. That hand that plays the violin, that conducts experiments, that points at a crime scene and says “elementary.”
It slips out from under the duvet and catches the fabric of his shirt.
It holds on so gently and yet so tightly.
Not with the usual controlled composure.
But the way a drowning man grabs at driftwood—no technique, only instinct.
Clutching his shirttail. His sleeve. His collar.
It holds on all night long. It doesn’t let go until dawn.
All night he calls his name.
And all night the other answers, “I’m here.”
The truth is, the fever has made him half delirious; he doesn’t even know what he’s calling for.
But each time he calls, a warm hand reaches out and rests on his forehead.
It stays there until he quiets, then slowly withdraws.
...another fic to share, so cute, slow burn, platonic ! You'll love it !
