So sorry about how long it took, but here it is- the final chapter! Hope you enjoyed it!

While Sherlock was hardly conscious, his mind was raging almost as much as the fever.

"You're so weak. You were never a challenge for me. Look at you now- reduced to this; lying helplessly with your sidekick having to force feed you!"

Moriarty taunted him.

"He's not my sidekick. He's my… my friend."

"Sherlock Holmes doesn't have friends. He pities you. So weak."

"No, I'm not weak."

"Oh careful their big fella, with comebacks like that, you might hurt my feelings. Though that would take some doing."

"I'm not."

Sherlock gasped when he realised. No not that. Not tears. Did he even know how to cry? Oh yes, that's right, he cried a lot when he was a child. It'd been so long.

Moriarty laughed, cackled even.

"What did I tell you? Weak!"

Sherlock questioned himself this time. Maybe he was weak. No, he refused. Sherlock Holmes was strong. He didn't need John, he didn't need anyone.

But he wanted John. No not like that. He actually quite liked John. And as resistant as he was to John's care, he didn't wish to be without it.

No, wait, what was he saying, he was strong! He could do everything by himself. People were just there to get in his way.

John was frantically trying to cool Sherlock down. His fever was bad, but the fact that he was thrashing around was also heating his body.

Putting cold cloths around Sherlock's neck and on his forehead, John was getting desperate. Sherlock was fighting hard, but he had to help him win.

John had decided that the tears were simply a physical reaction to the heat and pain Sherlock's body was experiencing, as the man himself was not even conscious.

"Come on Sherlock, stay strong for me."

To Sherlock's ears, those words sounded as though he were underwater.

Stay strong? Surely John knows he was never strong to begin with?

Here we go again, Sherlock thought. He tried to still his mind, stop it from arguing with itself. He had to be able to control it. His mind was his strength; one of his many.

Did he have weaknesses? The answer had to be yes. By default, humans cannot be strong in everything; there is no strength without weakness; there has to be comparison; one cannot exist without the other.

That was the logical truth. But it was turning that truth into an emotional one that Sherlock didn't like. Maybe that was a weakness. Yes. Good. No need to dwell on trivial ideas such as these.

Sherlock rolled over and opened his eyes a little. Everything was blurry. He could feel a hand on his shoulder, trying to roll him back over. After losing all sense of direction he could make out a John figure in his line of fuzzy vision. John's mouth was moving, but it was only deep monotone that could be heard. Sherlock swallowed experimentally, and blinked hard to try and clear his vision. It worked somewhat.

"John" was all he could manage.

"Hey there mate. Take it slow. Believe it or not you're in terribly bad shape."

Sherlock cleared his throat a little, "I'll be fine."

Sherlock wasn't sure how John would react to that statement. He wasn't sure why he said it himself. Was he showing his strength or weakness right now?

John's face remained soft, still covered with concern, but his mouth twitched to make a small smile.

"Drink some water."

Sherlock sipped at it and went to give it back when he caught John's 'finish it' look.

"While you're awake, let's give you a quick look over."

Sherlock groaned and tried to roll away but John caught him at the hip.

"Why are you so resistant to my help? Help is meant to be a good thing you know? It's utilising strengths that you don't have yourself- teamwork yeah?"

That word again. Strength. Sherlock didn't say anything as John pulled him into more of an elevated position. He avoided John's occasional glance, which worried John even more. John gently felt Sherlock's neck, noting that his glands were a little swollen, but not badly.

"Does it hurt anywhere especially?"

Sherlock didn't move for a while, but then without looking at John, pointed to his head.

John shifted his gaze between the pointed area and Sherlock's eyes. By the look of him, he had regained a lot of senses and his mind had obviously started to clear. John would check his temperature again once he was lying flat.

John's gentle hands moved to Sherlock's curl-covered head. He carefully searched Sherlock's head for anything physical.

"Headache then?"

Sherlock softly shook his head.

"No?" John was confused. He continued searching Sherlock's head, parting some of his hair to use his sight as well as touch.

"I, I can't find anything."

"It's on the inside."

John jumped a little as Sherlock spoke for the first time.

"The inside?"

Sherlock nodded. "It hurts and I don't know if it's good or bad."

That's when John lost all grip on his understanding of what Sherlock was telling him.

John pushed Sherlock back down into bed. Worriedly, he placed a hand on Sherlock's forehead. It was still too warm, but it had definitely come down in temperature.

"Maybe you should rest some more?"

At that, Sherlock sat bolt upright; "I'm not weak John!"

"Resting doesn't make you weak Sherlock, it makes you sensible! Though sense is definitely not one of your strengths there mate" John told him while pushing him back down again.

Sherlock kept mumbling his defence as he once again fell into unconsciousness.

Sherlock felt a lot better when he woke the next time. He faintly remembered John stroking and massaging his head as worked off the last of the fever. Sherlock was obviously looking a lot better too, as John come in with small smile.

"How are you feeling?"

"Fine." Sherlock replied bluntly.

John sighed, "Saying you're not, doesn't make you weak you know? Because that's what that whole episode was about, wasn't it?"

"But I have weaknesses John."

John scoffed, "well of course you do. So does everyone else, and even though you don't like to associate yourself with them, you're still human just like them."

Sherlock decided to play the game this time. "Ok, I'm feeling pretty tired, and still a bit hot."

John put a cool hand to Sherlock's head for the umpteenth time. He was still a bit warm, but it was nothing compared to the dangerous heat he fought only hours ago.

John thought about using the 'you'll live' line, but decided to stay with compassion just because Sherlock had finally told him the truth.

"Sit up, you look a bit stiff, I'll give you a massage, then rest for a bit longer."

Sherlock melted into John's touch, and started to drift off, still undecided if he'd be weak or strong when he woke up. And which one, if either, were good or bad.

END