A/N: This one comes from an idea that @ghoulish-pup gave me in the comments of my last fic! So thanks for that! I have cptsd myself and I have unfortunately unconsciously regressed due to flashbacks so this one was pretty easy to write. I can't lie though I did struggle a tiny bit with writing cg!Sherlock so I'm sorry if that was obvious haha. Please enjoy!!!
Memories
Pairings: cg!Sherlock Holmes x Little!John Watson
Word Count: 926
Warnings: Swearing, Description of ptsd flashback/panic attack. Spoilers for Kingsman: The Golden Circle
John places the bag of popcorn on the coffee table and flops onto the couch, rubbing his hands together happily as he flips the TV on.
"Sherlock?" He calls through the apartment. "Sherlock you ready mate?"
"Yes, yes I'm ready" Sherlock strides into the room, taking his place beside John on the couch. "I do wonder if Eggsy and the princess stayed together."
Movie night in 221b Bakers Street had been extended, two days in a row this week instead of the usual once a week affair. All because of one thing: Kingsman.
The first film had infatuated the employees of Sherlock and Co, all three of them enjoying it so much that they decided to continue on the second one the very next night. John had offered to put the viewing off for another night when Marianna had to dart off to help one of her old friends from Hudson's who was having a crisis, but she waved him off, insisting that the two boys enjoy it without her.
"I'll catch it at some point. Besides, Sherlock will get antsy if he doesn't get a happy ending soon."
So, here they were, huddled up on the couch, watching Kingsman: the Golden Circle, with Sherlock eagerly pointing out inaccuracies and John simply enjoying a bit of Colin Firth. That was until, Merlin's sacrifice.
John had actually managed to keep a miraculously cool head when Eggsy stepped on the mine, breathing in deeply and grasping the side of his blanket to help ground himself. But, when Merlin had thrown him out of the way and stepped onto the mine instead, John knew he was done for. Even the sight of Harry and Eggsy shielding their heads and bracing for the impact of the explosion was enough for him.
He tries to reach the remote to turn the TV off but he can't reach it. His hands won't move. And suddenly he's back. Ears ringing, searing pain all over his body, the feeling of his leg burning and screaming from his platoon. He shakes his head, squeezing his eyes shut, trying to ignore the blinding pain radiating from his leg.
"This isn't fuck- isn't real it's- it's- bloody hell, somebody fucking help me! " He hears someone calling his name. "I'm here! I'm still alive! " He screams out. He hears some of the other lads coming to get him out of there. Thank fuck. Maybe he won't die today.
A hand on his shoulder. A soldier he's never seen before. He's not in uniform, instead wearing a deep purple dressing gown. John looks down at his own clothes. His leg isn't mangled. It's clad with pyjamas, patterned with little sharks. He's... he's home. Memories come flooding back. 221b, Mariana, Archie and....Sherlock. That's not a soldier. It's Sherlock.
"John it's alright." Sherlock looks nervous and extremely concerned, noting the way John is gripping at his leg. "You're having a flashback. It isn't real."
John looks to him, tears streaming down his face. "Feels bloody real" he pants, laying his head back on the headrest of the couch, trying to control his breathing.
"I know" Sherlock replies, attempting to soothe him. "Your brain is lying to you."
"It's- christ." John tries, feeling his brain begin to fog over. He's felt this before, discussed it with therapists. This change. Feeling like a helpless child. He's fought it off well enough, kept it to himself. But it's happening now again and he can't stop it.
"Sherlock I- I need to-" He begins, but Sherlock interrupts him immediately. "It's alright. Let's put on some easier viewing."
He grabs the long forgotten remote and some old family movie. "Breathe in deep. You're safe and at home with me."
John does as he says, feeling the panic ease a little bit but the other fog start to settle deep in his chest. "Sherlock I-" He slurs "Gotta go bed." Is he all he manages to get out, his already shaky voice choked out by sobs. He's taken by surprise when Sherlock suddenly pulls him over onto his lap, patting his back somewhat awkwardly. "There there Watson."
Once John recovers from the shock of being brought onto his best friends lap, all he can manage to do is cry.
"It's ok, shhhh you're safe now."
" 'M sorry." John babbles into Sherlocks shoulder.
"You have nothing to be sorry for. Everything is alright."
"Feel wierd."
Sherlock sighs pityingly. "I know. It's alright John, your brain is just trying to protect itself."
"Not mad?" John mumbles into Sherlock's shoulder.
"Never. Not your fault is it? Now, lets watch some of that film you were telling Mariana about last week. What was it called? En...."
"Encanto." John supplies, perking up a tiny bit. " 's a really good movie."
"I'm sure. Let's test that theory shall we?"
Sherlock swears he can feel John's lip twitch into a little smile.
After half of Encanto (with a surprisingly enthusiastic Sherlock) ,many soft blankets and soothing words, John eventually drops off to sleep on Sherlock's shoulder, finally back in the real world.
Bonus!
"I'm home! Ugh Summer was not kidding about that paperwork, it was so damn stup- Sherlock?"
Mariana stops when she sees the two cuddled up on the couch.
"Long night." Sherlock says simply.
"I'm....sure. Everything OK?" Mariana questions, looking slightly concerned.
"Nothing I can't deal with."
"Ok then. Goodnight Sherlock"
She blows a kiss to Sherlock and places a gentle kiss on John's head.
"Goodnight John. Sleep well sweetheart." She says, smiling and going to bed, knowing her boys are ok.