The trembling would come first, whether it be his hands or his shoulders, the trembling always happens first. The nausea would come next; he'd notice a hand travelling to the abdomen and the man shifting around in discomfort also followed by the occasional swallowing. Dizziness would follow shortly after, the man would lightly sway without realising, whether he is sitting or standing, he would always sway, barely noticeable unless one's focusing and looking out for it. The odd blinking will happen next, except that all depended on the symptoms the man experiences. The grimacing and wincing will happen whenever the pain starts, the pain regularly starts just before the tremble, but Sherlock is very good at hiding it. The slurring of his words starts happening when it's gotten so bad and Sherlock just can't make the effort to talk properly anymore.

Sometimes Sherlock would take something. Sometimes willingly, other times it's not so willing and John's practically forced Sherlock to take something. They've tried a number of different treatments – caffeine, Lucozade, drinking more water, different pain medications, cold compresses, adapting Sherlock's diet, trying (and failing) to get Sherlock to sleep more and longer, testing the use of certain oils. Sometimes they work, sometimes they don't. It's almost like a game of hit and miss. Get it at the right time and the pain will lessen, occasionally disappear completely. Get it at the wrong time and it will have no effect on the pain whatsoever.

Sherlock doesn't like to admit to pain, not many people do, why would they? So most of the time, John's had to determine himself whether or not Sherlock is in pain because admitting to pain is not something he would do, that's almost like admitting to a weakness, Sherlock likes to be seen as strong, not this weakling that can't handle a simple headache (Sherlock's words, not his own). Sherlock's as proud as a peacock. So the most of the time, John has to determine himself whether or not Sherlock is in pain, and when confronted about it, Sherlock will likely deny it. On the odd occasion though, Sherlock will admit to being in pain, he will admit to feeling pain coming, he will admit to being in so much pain he almost wants to curl up and hide away. It's times like those that make John want to smile, despite how dire the situation is. The reason being because it means he's earned Sherlock's trust. It means that Sherlock trusts him enough to admit to a weakness, that he wants John to see him at one of his worst moments, and that he trusts John enough to see him, treat him without making fun of him.

He dreads the occasions though. To watch one of the smartest people he knows, his hero in some sense, a good man, just deteriorate into this blubbering mess because Sherlock is not above becoming a blubbering mess when the pain gets so bad. John's been vomited upon, cried up, used as a human scratching post, bruised, and held onto as if he'd disappear within a second (John suspects this is because Sherlock wants to keep his hold on reality and to not fall into the pit of pain). It hurts John to see his friend in so much pain and not being able to stop it. To be so powerless while his friend suffers. To be so healthy, so free of pain, while his friend is experiencing one of the worst kinds of physical pain. It's one of those things that hurt more than a physical wound ever could. He once doubted that was possible, especially after being shot in Afghanistan. But it is possible; it's something John experiences when Sherlock's in pain. Now he knows that one of the worst kinds of pain is watching his best friend in pain and be unable to do anything to help him. He's a doctor! He's medically trained to help those ill, injured, and in pain, but this is something he can't help. This is something he feels so helpless over. So powerless over. It goes against his medical instincts, but he knows he can't do anything. So he fights back those instincts, forces himself to calm down, and becomes the friend Sherlock needs.

There are times when Sherlock willingly rests, in his bedroom or on the couch, in the darkness, under a pillow or under a dark blue blanket. But there are times where John has to practically drag him to the bed or the couch and almost sit on him just to get him to rest. These are times he also dreads. He prefers it when Sherlock willingly rests; it's much easier to get him to relax enough to get the younger man to sleep. When John has to practically drag Sherlock to his bed it's hard, he doesn't relax, he's tense; he's always trying to find some reason to get out of bed, trying to think of some excuse, some way to prove he's fine. It takes a lot just to get Sherlock to relaxed enough just to sleep. That's only the times when the pain isn't so bad. When the pain stops him from sleeping, they need to compromise. John regularly treads his fingers through Sherlock's hair; he regularly has to whisper into Sherlock's ear (he's found talking in French works best. Another thing he suspects came from that Violet person), recreating certain smells and temperatures (goodness knows how that helps, but it does).

John doesn't like it when there's nobody with Sherlock. He knows Sherlock's been on his own many times, he knows that Sherlock's just fine on his own, he knows that Sherlock's not a little boy that needs to be watched over. But John likes it when there's somebody with him because there's no knowing how strong the migraine's going to be and Sherlock is not above hurting himself to distract him from the pain happening in his head. The most of it is fingernail cuts in the palm of his hands, simple little things that'll heal in a few days, but sometimes, when the migraine is so strong and the pain is so bad, Sherlock is not above making himself bleed. He won't necessarily pick up something sharp and cut himself, no, Sherlock's not like that, but he will find ways to cause himself pain. Anything to distract himself from the pain in his head. John once had to treat a long gash across the back of his hand and several across his arm, accompanied from protecting his face due to throwing a glass at a wall while standing barely a few feet away. It's a time like this where John needed to hold Sherlock down, it's only happened once, but once is more than enough times for John. The palms of Sherlock's hands were torn up, Sherlock was going to do worse damage had John not come home and stopped him. John entered the next day with scratches running up and down his arms, bruises upon both his wrists from how hard he had been gripped, and Sherlock finally asleep. It's not something John ever wishes to experience again.

John's spoken to the others about it. Of course, he's had to do it when Sherlock isn't around; goodness knows how Sherlock likes his privacy. He's found out that Sherlock is somewhat more open about them, Lestrade had stated that you would never know if Sherlock had one until he was vomiting everywhere or ready to collapse. Sherlock isn't much different now, he still doesn't admit to them so soon, but John's grateful he's aware of them before Sherlock vomits everywhere or about ready to collapse. He'd found from both Lestrade and Mrs. Hudson that Sherlock calms best to certain reactions from those around, most of these John had learnt himself, but they supplied him with extra. He learnt quite a bit from Mycroft. Mycroft wasn't the most open of people about these things, so the most he's actually received from Mycroft is actually in a medical file hidden upstairs under John's bed, but there are times when Mycroft has shared moments from his childhood, John learnt that Sherlock far more in control with himself now than he ever was before. John can see that Mycroft wishes he knew more than he does now, John almost pictures Mycroft to be the big brother that cared more about his own education than his younger sibling, given the age Mycroft was at the time, John could see why. John himself was similar. When John was fifteen to eighteen he didn't give much care about what Harry was up to, he had his exams, medical school, and his career to think about. At that time in his life, he didn't care much that his older sister was losing herself in alcohol. Not when his whole future was at stake.

He'd even learnt that Molly knew about them. Considering how Sherlock treats her, it wasn't something he expected. But it turns out that she had entered the lab during his moment of weakness, Sherlock with his head in his hands, vomit on the floor, and all lights out. She'd told him that he was still determined to finish his experiment; it wasn't until she phoned Lestrade to come and collect him that he'd finally stopped. It's a testament as to how determined Sherlock will be to finish something regardless of the pain he's in. Something he's learnt himself and from Lestrade. Just thinking about the time Lestrade told him about the Gander case makes him wish Sherlock wasn't so stupid and would actually rest. Sherlock should consider himself lucky that they're both still alive.

He wishes he could talk to Violet. Given how Mycroft's spoken about her, she's the one with the most knowledge, but nobody seems to know what's happened to her. She vanished once Sherlock had left for University; it makes him wonder if Sherlock knows what has happened to her but Violet's a taboo subject. John had mentioned her after Sherlock recovered from his bout of pneumonia; the only response he received from Sherlock was a tensed silence followed quickly by shut up.

John watches Sherlock as he informs Lestrade of his observations and deductions in rapid succession, the spark in his eyes and the swiftness in his movement. No signs to show that he was in horrible pain the day before. Nothing to indicate that the brilliant mind of his had gone into overdrive, shut down, and then cause him great amount of pain. For now, Sherlock is physically healthy, until the next one that is.

When the movements start to slow down and they start becoming stiff and trembling. When the smooth voice starts to stutter and slur. When the intelligent eyes become pained eyes and the spark disappears. When the smooth curls become sweat filled and stick to his head. When the body protests and leaves him holding onto the toilet as he vomits. When the mind just causes such pain he almost passes out.

He wonders when the next one will happen. Sherlock can either have them once or month or twice a week, he suffered through one just the other day, but this month's only just started. There are still another twenty-six days until it ends, another three and a half weeks until the next month begins. He's going to make sure Sherlock has as few as possible, even if that does mean ignoring his protests and almost forcing him to do as he's told.

There's a moment where Sherlock looks at Lestrade and then at John, his eyes are wide, his jaw has dropped, the look of realisation is upon his face. Suddenly he's dashing forward with his great long coat swishing behind him and he's crying out for John.

"Come on, John! We have a suspect to catch!"

Lestrade's protesting, shouting at Sherlock to come back and turning to look at John. John only shrugs his shoulders and runs off after Sherlock with a smile upon his face because it's these moments that John likes best. Moments when Sherlock is just Sherlock and there's nothing else, but only until the next time, and John is going to make the most of it now.

AN: I figured we'd need a John's thoughts chapter. Anyway, terribly sorry for not updating, it is a horrible moment when you manage to block the website for almost two months.

I've made a small plan about what the next chapters will consist of – A Scandal in Belgravia's next because it's possibly been too many chapters since following episodes, then I'm going to take it back several years for Mrs. Hudson and Molly, come back to real time, and then go back for teen years maybe. Unless that doesn't sound like a good idea.

I hope you enjoyed this, have a nice day.

~Steffii