Trembling

“Sherlock,” John said, his annoyance obvious in his voice, “will you please stop all this bloody pacing? You’re making me exhausted just watching you.” Sherlock hadn’t seemed to hear John, still quietly muttering to himself, waving his hands around his head frantically while pacing back and forth in front of the fireplace.

“Is it twins? No, no, it’s never twins, I should know, I said it and I’m nearly always correct about these things. But he couldn’t have been in two places at once, could he?” Sherlock mumbled quietly under his breath, his eyes shut tightly, hands still moving about carelessly around his head. “A doppleganger? No, that’s not very likely, now is it? Maybe-”

“Sherlock Holmes!” John snapped, his hand clenching and unclenching in his lap. Sherlock jumped and looked at John with widened eyes, as he had not been expecting John to shout him out of his mind palace. John, staring at the bags under Sherlock’s eyes, sighed and stood up, reaching a hand out towards Sherlock. “You’ve been pacing endlessly for nearly the entire day, and you haven’t slept in nearly four days. I don’t think I’ve seen you eat anything more than a piece of toast during that time, and don’t think I haven’t noticed that you haven’t been drinking any of the tea I make for you either,” John said softly, closing his hand gently around Sherlock’s forearm. Sherlock looks away from John almost guiltily, staring at the ground, not trying to wrench his arm from John’s careful grip. “Hey, is everything alright?”

A pause. Then a minute shake of Sherlock’s head as he sighed and buried his face into John’s chest, his whole body deflating. John gathered up his detective lovingly into his arms and pressed a soft kiss to his hair, swaying them back and forth slightly. “Is this about the little girl?” After another short pause, Sherlock nodded again, wrapping his arms tightly around John’s back. “Oh, love,” John said quietly, burying his nose in Sherlock’s hair.

“She’s in danger, John,” Sherlock said, his voice muffled slightly by John’s chest. “She’s in danger, and here I am, struggling my way through this case because I can’t seem to think. I’m exhausted, my muscles want to give up but I can’t seem to stop moving, stop thinking, stop worrying. I’m hungry, but everytime I try to eat I feel so nauseous that it’s better if I just ignore the hunger. I’m-” his voice started wavering and he pulled himself impossibly closer to John, his body starting to tremble. “I’m a mess. A failure,” he whispers, nearly too quiet to be heard.

John presses another kiss to Sherlock’s head, tightening his arms around his trembling body. He knew it was from the overwhelming amount of emotion Sherlock was feeling as much as it was from the muscle fatigue, the lack of sleep, the low blood sugar.

“You aren’t a mess and you are definitely not a failure, ‘Lock,” John said, rubbing his hands comfortingly over Sherlock’s back. “You’re doing everything you can, and you’re working yourself to exhaustion just to do that. It’s a tough case, and it’s been hard on you, especially because… well, I know how cases with children tend to distress you more than others. You’re doing your best, have been doing your best for the past few days. Don’t you think it’s time to take a break?” John could feel Sherlock shake his head against his chest.

“My best is no longer good enough.”

The words hung heavy in the air for a few seconds, and John’s heart ached for the exhausted, shaking man in his arms. “Don’t say that, love. Don’t even think it, because it isn’t true, never has been, never will,” John said fiercely, his voice still a near-whisper. “You’re doing more than anyone else, and we could never thank you enough for that.” When Sherlock didn’t answer after a little bit, John asked, “Hey, did you hear me ‘Lock?” He nodded slowly, a violent tremble making its way through his body. “Do you believe me?” A pause, then Sherlock shook his head no, his shoulders starting to shake with silent sobs along with the tremors already running through his abused muscles.

John only held him closer, wishing he had a way to end the suffering of his exhausted, overworked detective.