(no subject)

[bitnotgood]

Once again John couldn't sleep. Oh, he'd tried to prevent it. He made sure to be extra busy during the day - paperwork, organisational tasks, doing random checks throughout Barts, meeting friends, giving advice - the list went on. He'd come home and made dinner, tidied up, avoided caffeine and sugar after nine, and spent what he thought was a very exhausting night with Kent. He was sure that all these things, plus an early start in the morning, would guarantee him a good night's sleep. Of course, when the early hour of three rolled around, John realised he'd been mistaken.

Well, there was nothing for it. He'd just have to wait until his brain shut off. Careful not to wake Kent, he slipped out of bed, pulled on a shirt and boxers, grabbed his laptop off his desk and headed off into the kitchen. He kept the light off and sat down at the table, staring at the blank page of an open document.

He started to type. Nothing at first: a few random thoughts here and there, an attempt to write up an old case he and Sherlock had solved. It didn't seem right though, needing those cases when there was so much going on here. He deleted the text and began again.