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"Love," the plaintive voice of his husband, as he was entering the flat after his day at the surgery, was painful for the doctor. "My mind... it doesn't stop. My head... it hurts so bad."
Dropping silently his bag and coat, John swiftly walks behind the detective and starts stroking his curls softly, knowing at once what he needs to do. As his fingers massage his beloved head, the dark chocolate hair - now mixed with silver - become even more unruled, reflecting the chaos inside Sherlock's mind.
Chuckling silently at the sight, the doctor starts humming a little song until the detective's eyes closed as he lazily drops his head a bit more in the cradle of John's hands.
After many minutes of tender care, mindless humming, and soft massaging, the stress in the tall man shoulders finally starts to fade. At peace for the first time in hours... Falling asleep after an hour of his husband ministration, Sherlock last thought was that sometimes, his mind only needs John's lullaby.
With a chaste kiss on his husband's forehead, the doctor quietly covers him with a blanket to let him rest...