AN:This is set just after A Study in Pink and before The Blind Banker

I hope you enjoy it :)

When John had come home from work, he was tired and annoyed. He didn't have many patients today, but the ones he did have were the type of patients he hated. Quite a few of them kept insisting that they were ill when there was nothing wrong with them, it was normal for them to experience a slight headache when out in the heat too long, it simply meant that they were dehydrated and needed to cool down. That was just some of the patients he'd had. The others were flat out stubborn and refused to listen to him. If you want to lose the infection quickly then take the prescription, if you do not wish to be sleeping in a hospital bed within the next few days then take the pills, making you drowsy is a side-effect, it doesn't mean that you should stop taking the medication, it doesn't mean the medication isn't working, it's simply your body's reaction to it. He put a hand to his forehead and rubbed it, he could feel a stress headache coming on. He only hoped Sherlock wasn't going to text him about a case or wasn't going to be much of a handful with his experiments.

When he entered the flat he went straight into his room for some fresh clothes and went into the bathroom for a shower. He needed that. The sudden temperature change in the weather had caught up with him today, yesterday it was cold and raining, today it was hot and you'd believe it was the middle of summer not the start of spring. Of course, he'd worn extra because they hadn't quite left winter yet and because of today's heat he'd gotten rather hot and sweaty. It felt good to wash off all the sweat.

When he got out of the shower, he was suddenly aware of how quiet the place was. That wasn't normal. He's been living with Sherlock for two months now; quiet is not something that regularly happens. No, he could normally hear Sherlock banging and crashing, doing all kinds of things with his experiments, the only time he is quiet is when he's thinking, but even then John can still hear him muttering away to himself. Getting dressed, he grabbed his gun from his bedroom and slowly walked downstairs; he entered the living room and looked around. Sherlock wasn't prattling around, he wasn't making all kinds of noises because of his experiments, John was beginning to doubt that Sherlock was even in the room. Until he looked towards the couch.

Sherlock was curled up tightly on the floor to the side of the couch, his arms were folded over his face and his thin form was shaking. Violently. John put his gun away and ran towards the huddled form calling out his name. Sherlock flinched and curled up even tighter. John knelt down beside Sherlock, put a hand on Sherlock's shoulder and called his name once more.

"Sherlock, can you hear me?" He said, his voice panicked and with concern.

A low guttural moan came from the man.

"Look at me, Sherlock. Are you hurt?" He asked.

Sherlock flinched again, his shaking grew worse. Another low guttural moan came; John leaned in to see if he could hear anything.

"Shhhhhh."

John pulled back from confusion. What was going on? He turned around and towards the door.

"Mrs. Hudson!" He called. Maybe she would know what was going on.

John's concern grew when he heard Sherlock cry out in pain. John forced himself to calm and to analyse the situation. Sherlock's curled up tightly on the floor to the side of the couch, in a small square part of the room that was hidden from the afternoon sun, his arms covering his face; he seems to flinch a lot when John talks and he cried out in pain when he shouted. Conclusion, Sherlock has a bad headache; he's experiencing a migraine or a cluster headache. He ruled out the last option, cluster headaches are extremely rare, occur regularly and those who suffer from them do not have this particular reaction.

"Yoo-hoo." Came Mrs. Hudson's cheery tone.

John looked towards her and the moment she saw Sherlock she lowered her voice. She came over and knelt down beside him, whispering as she spoke.

"Migraine?"

A groan was her response. John took this as confirmation. He began thinking. What were the common migraine cures? Some people take pills while others have their medication injected into them. Which one would Sherlock have?

Mrs. Hudson had turned to John, "John, can you close all the curtains and make sure there's no sound or light?"

John stood up, eager to help while Mrs. Hudson disappeared into the bathroom Sherlock has, he closed the curtains and made sure that there were no light coming from them and that his steps weren't making a sound. She returned carrying a small grey case and a glass of water.

"John, we need to roll him over. We need to be careful though, he might throw up."

John put his hands on Sherlock's knee and chest while Mrs. Hudson put a hand on his shoulder. Together, they gently rolled him over and onto his back; John winced as he heard Sherlock gag. The movement jarring his nauseated stomach and his agonised head.

"Sherlock, you're out of your medication. I only have the tablets." She whispered putting two tablets into the glass of water.

Sherlock groaned.

"I know, but I've got your anti-nausea ones, it should work."

Mrs. Hudson indicated to John to help lift Sherlock. John took Sherlock's right arm, Mrs. Hudson took his left and slowly they moved Sherlock's arms away from his face and lifted him so that his back was against the wall. John could not stop his jaw from dropping. Sherlock's usually pale face was deathly white, his eyes were shut tightly and tears were slowly making their way down his sharp cheeks that seemed even more prominent because of his pale colour. Sherlock immediately hugged his knees to his chest as if to protect his trembling form.

"Sherlock," Mrs. Hudson said gently, "I need you to drink this."

Sherlock only groaned and raised a trembling hand. Mrs. Hudson handed him the glass, Sherlock drank half of the cup before putting the glass down. He buried his head into his knees. Mrs. Hudson ran a hand through his dark locks before speaking again.

"When did this start?"

"20 minutes ago." Sherlock voice was low and agonised. Muffled against his knees, "Woke up from nap, made it two steps until I fell."

John realised that Sherlock wasn't speaking in full sentences, it shocked him as that is something Sherlock would never do.

"Why didn't you call me?"

"Phone's on table and you couldn't hear me."

John was suddenly given the mental image of Sherlock curled up on the floor, trying to call for Mrs. Hudson but not wanting to give his head more pain. He shook his head as if to shake the image away.

John stupidly asked, "How are you feeling?" He regretted it immediately once realising how stupid he sounded.

"I'm fine. I'll be fine. There's no need to worry, John." Sherlock replied, still as stubborn as ever and refusing to admit he's actually not.

John rolled his eyes and said, "Yes, Sherlock, you're the poster boy of health." He then looked at Mrs. Hudson, "Shouldn't we get him off the floor?

"Bedroom or couch?"

A groan was heard but neither of them could make out the word. John leaned in closer and asked Sherlock to repeat himself.

"Bedroom's darker."

John took Sherlock's right arm, Mrs. Hudson took Sherlock's left, slowly they lifted Sherlock together, once Sherlock was upright and off the floor his head rolled onto John's shoulder.

"No. No. No. No. No." He mumbled in quick succession, too concerned about throwing up to be embarrassed.

John could only stroke Sherlock's back in a comforting gesture before they slowly made their way to Sherlock's bedroom. Once in the room, Sherlock lowered himself onto his bed and hid under the sheet. Covering his head more than his body. He wasn't trembling so much but it was still very present. Mrs. Hudson gestured for John to follow her out of the room.

"There's no need to worry, John. Sherlock will stay in there for a few hours and come out with a bad headache."

"Why didn't he tell me?" John asked barely concealed anger in his voice.

"Sherlock doesn't tell anyone. We always find out ourselves. He sees it as a weakness. He's going to be in a bad mood later because you've seen him and he's going to feel like you won't treat him the same."

"Why would he think that?" John asked confused.

"Sherlock's a really proud man, no matter how many times I tell him he always believes that the next person who find out won't treat him the same." Mrs. Hudson turned to walk away, "One thing, make sure he has his medication. You do not want to witness Sherlock without his medication." Mrs. Hudson shuddered as she remembered the time Sherlock was all out of medication. It was definitely a moment she did not want to happen again.

AN: That's it for the first chapter. I hope you enjoyed it; I'm not that keen on the ending, it feels weak to me. I regularly suffer from migraines and I just really wanted to write a story where Sherlock would suffer migraines, especially given how he works and what he does. Seems like a challenging story to me.

Anyway, hope you enjoyed it. Have a nice day :)

~Steffii