Doctor || God || Prince || Noble

Yes. Yes you scared the shit out of me.

"A-Ah--" He rubbed the back of his head some more, awkwardly shuffling as his cheeks burned. There would be no hiding that from William. Lying to this man was just something he could not do--

"Narcolepsy...I suppose that would be an apt description for it, though I doubt that's it. At least...I highly doubt it."

From what little he'd read on the subject, the symptoms didn't match up quite as well. After a brief silence, he reached over with both hands and grabbed one of Sherlock's.

He had been seated in the windowsill while he waited and resisting every urge he had to stress smoke. His knee was bobbing in anxious manner and he'd been looking down at the street below when William suddenly sat up.

Hopefully William didn't notice how hard he /jumped/.

"Hey, you're okay!" He managed a little smile before letting out a heavy breath and reaching up to rub the back of his neck. But--

He didn't word that the way he wanted to. His hands smoothed over the blanket that covered his legs. "In a sense...yes..." he began, a little carefully.

"Narcolepsy...?" Billy didn't quite know what he had just set in motion, but he had just given Sherlock something to research until he himself fell over and passed out from exhaustion. When he wasn't working at least.

He was torn between wanting to not disturb William's sleep--if that what it was--and wanting to hunker down in here and watch him carefully in case anything happened--

"Hey, mind if I use your kitchen? I'll make a little somethin' for him to eat when he's up." He didn't even wait for an answer as he left the room.

The room was then hushed. Silent. Minutes ticked by, until--

"...Mmn..."

William began to stir.

Billy's voice nearly made him drop the glass of water he had just finished pouring. His nerves were clearly beyond the point of fried. "Thanks," trying to pretend he hadn't just nearly made a fool of himself, he went over to peek into the room.

"...You...really think he's just sleeping...?" He asked weakly, eyes zeroed in on the man in the bed. He would wake up later. This wasn't going to end up with William back into a coma. It wasn't.

He hoped.

Realizing his fingers were shaking, he handed the water to Billy.

"Hmm...Y'think he's got that uh...what was it called? Narcolepsy? I think that was it." He didn't have any experience with that though, so he didn't know what a person suffering with it would look like. He didn't know the symptoms.

It was probably better for William's sake that Billy had shown up. Sherlock swallowed thickly, fingers shaking as he raised a hand to run through his own hair.

His heart still felt like it was in his throat. How was he supposed to explain that he wasn't used to this--to caring enough about someone that the thought of losing them sent him into such a state of distress? He had barely gotten to that point with John before he'd leapt off the bridge after William, and--

"....Okay." Water. Water, he could do that without messing that up right? He could. He absolutely could.

He hummed quietly, looking over at the envelop he'd had to set down nearby. That could wait. It wasn't extremely important.

He at least had some sense to try to keep his voice down--while the walls in the building weren't paper thin, he knew raising his voice would definitely be heard by their neighbors and considering they were going by fake names here--he knew he needed to be careful.

But all other sense seemed to have gone out the damn window.

"Just sleeping? Billy, he was mid sentence! We were talking and then he just--" His heart was in his throat, and honestly it was a pretty interesting sight for anyone who knew anything about Sherlock Holmes. He wasn't one to panic. Especially not like this.

The bed. Right. Needed to get him to the bed--

He looked up at Sherlock, then shook his head as he decided to put William in the bed by himself.

"Not that long, no--" And even if he had been, he wouldn't have minded. Part of him had been tempted to crawl into bed next to him, but he had chosen to do some of his work over here today and he couldn't well do that while asleep, could he?

He grinned at the kiss, but then let out a soft laugh.

The door opened as a light rapping against wood with knuckles was heard--Billy stood in the doorway, an envelope tucked under one arm. About to greet the two, he stopped and tilted his head slightly.

Sherlock seemed to be beside himself, anxious, worried.