Disclaimer: I do not own Sherlock

Sherlock was laying on the couch in a rather foul mood. Nothing he would tell John about, but then again, John figured it was nothing he would particularly want to hear about. In fact, Sherlock's phone ringing endlessly was not something John wanted to hear either. After asking Sherlock to either answer it or turn it off and receiving only an angry grumble of something, John sighed and found the mobile in the mess of stuff on the coffee table. There were at least fifteen calls from DI Lestrade. Looking at Sherlock's pajama clad back John sighed and called back. After finishing the call John told Sherlock they had a case.

"I'm sure they can handle something that dull." Sherlock mumbled into the cushions.

"He asked for your help Sherlock." John said trying not to sound irritated. "If you're not going I guess I have to." John sighed grabbing his coat and leaving the flat.

John got to the station and spoke to Greg about the case; it wasn't the most glamorous or that complex. What Greg had asked for help with, however, was finding their suspect who had suddenly gone missing. He had been in the military so John had more pull talking to the man's friends and helped find the man. Upon arriving with Greg at the house to wait for backup they heard gunfire. Greg, being the heroic DI he is grabbed his gun and ran in. John being a heroic ex military friend of someone facing gunfire, ran in after him.

And that was just about all that John remembered.

He woke up just as the ambulance arrived. The suspect was taken into custody without injury by Greg who was also unscathed. The person the suspect had been after was pronounced dead on arrival. And John was taken in the ambulance to the hospital mainly for his head wound. All the gunfire had affected the structure of the house and a beam fell on top of John. He lay in bed feeling nauseous and with a headache that was skull splitting. He self diagnosed a concussion and wondered if Sherlock would come see him in hospital.

His question was answered shortly as Sherlock stepped into the room with a severely sour expression. Still in his pajamas.

"The man has been apprehended I presume." Sherlock said. John said nothing and did nothing because he feared if he did something it would be throwing up. "I'll ask Lestrade." Sherlock said not moving; he simply stood there and watched John. "Why do you do such reckless things?" He asked at last looking angry as if John had purposely gotten injured. John said nothing and did nothing and Sherlock said no more and did no more than standing there looking out the window of the door closing the room off to the rest of the hospital. At last Lestrade arrived, looking shortly at Sherlock before coming to stand by John's bed.

"They said the only real injury is the head wound and that you have a concussion but that you can go home if you'd like." Lestrade said.

"He should stay here." Sherlock said angrily. "Where is the man that hurt him?"

"Somewhere you will not get to him." Lestrade said angrily. "Step out of the room." He added pointing to the door where a uni was standing. Sherlock looked at the uniformed officer angrily then at Greg angrily and then at John before stepping out. Greg sighed and looked at John with a smile. "I don't know how you do it. He's a handful and I've barely been with him two hours. You live with him." Greg laughed.

"He can be a brat but he means well usually." John said with a small smile. The bile in his throat swelled up and he threw up before lying back laughing softly at the worried and disgusted expression on Greg's face.

"You know how many times I called him?" Greg asked.

"I'd say about 70." John said smiling.

"About." Greg said. "Do you know how many times I called him from your number before he answered?"

"About 70?" John laughed.

"First time."

"Wow I wonder what he wanted." John said smiling at the back of Sherlock's head where he was standing in the hall with the uni.

"He got here before the ambulance. Not quite sure how." Greg laughed rubbing the back of his neck. "John, you get better quick or there will be some people very worried." He said finally before stepping into the hall to have a word with Sherlock and the officer. After a moment Sherlock stepped back into the room.

"I will bring your things so you can stay here until you are fully recovered." Sherlock said.

"No I'll go home." John smiled and sat up. He went a bit green but willed himself not to puke. "Can you get my things?"

"Fine." Sherlock said angrily.

John slept the whole way home and then leaned heavily on Sherlock up to the flat before lying down on the couch. It appeared he had fallen asleep and Sherlock went to fetch a blanket to cover him. Upon his return he covered John and sat on the edge to look at the sleeping man. "I should have been there." Sherlock said bitterly before sighing and kissing the top of John's head. "For you." He got up and went to order some dinner.

"Brat." John smiled and touched the spot where Sherlock had kissed him softly.

John slept on the couch and woke to find the flat empty. Not that he looked he just didn't hear any noise at all so he just laid there and enjoyed the silence for a while before getting up to brew coffee. Only there was already coffee done. He got a cup and took a sip. It was bad, disgusting even. It tasted like tar. No doubt Sherlock had made it. He was about to sit back down when the door opened. John figured Sherlock was back. He heard running feet before there was Sherlock, pale and face tight with worry before seeing John and relaxing. "You shouldn't be out of bed." Sherlock sighed. "How's the coffee?" He asked as they returned to the living room. Sherlock sat in his chair with John's laptop and John sat on the couch sipping his coffee.

"Tastes like tar." John laughed.

"Wonderful." Sherlock chucked.

"What's for breakfast?" John asked grinning.

"There were leftovers from last night. I can head that up for you." Sherlock offered.

"What no eggs?" John laughed. Sherlock looked angry. He couldn't cook so if he made eggs it would probably end up tasting like the nasty coffee.

"There was a double homicide this morning." Sherlock said thoughtfully looking at the dim screen.

"Hasn't Greg called you?" John asked frowning. Sherlock looked up and blinked before looking around. After a while of fumbling around the flat he came back with his phone. "Why is your phone off?" John asked.

"Because you're here." Sherlock said simply. John blushed. Why did that brat have to say things like that? "I'm sorry. I should have been there." Sherlock said as he put John's breakfast on the coffee table.

"Why? So you could get hurt too?" John asked laughing and shaking his head before pulling Sherlock down onto the couch too. Sherlock buried his face in John's chest and held him firmly.

"To protect you."

"Brat." John said chucking and inhaling the scent Sherlock's raven curls.

"What did I do?" Sherlock frowned and looked up at John frowning.

"You say things like that." John laughed. "Things that make me fall in love with you." Sherlock looked up and blushed before reaching up and kissing John softly. John wrapped his arms around Sherlock and smiled content. "Brat." He muttered before falling asleep.

"You didn't eat breakfast." Sherlock murmured frowning at the cooling leftovers on the coffee table. He sighed and nuzzled back into John.