Disclaimer: Not mine. Wish they were but they're not so I'll have to suffer through my disappointment.

A/N: Sorry for the lateness of this update. I've been sick or working all week.

Texts

The beeping signaling a text message from his phone woke Sherlock. He noted that his back hurt a bit and that his sofa seemed to have shrunk before the events of the night before slammed into his memory. He wasn't at home. He'd stayed at the Lestrade's last night because John…he wouldn't finish that thought.

His phone beeped insistently and he grabbed it off the table by the sofa before sitting up. He listened for a moment but all was silence in the Lestrade household. He flipped open the mobile and checked the time. 5:28 am. Lestrade's alarm would be going off soon then.

He opened his text message folder. 5 new texts. All of them from an undisclosed number. Mycroft then. Sighing he opened the first message.

20:16

S,

Just watched the CCTV feeds. Am researching details. Will pull M from summit meeting if necessary. Will send details ASAP.

-A

Sherlock gave a humorless smile. Of course A was still checking the CCTV cameras and had her BlackBerry. She flouted the rules whenever it suited her. She really was the perfect assistant for Mycroft. He opened the next message preparing for the gory details of John's injury.

20:22

S,

Have sent you J's medical records. The summary is: he was shot through the right shoulder. Scapula shattered as well as clavicle. Subclavian artery pierced. Suffering from infection. Have arranged transport to London as soon as stable.

-A

Sherlock squeezed his eyes shut. Serious injury. Life threatening. Not good. More than a bit not good. He fumbled open the next text as he heard Lestrade's alarm ring.

21:33

S,

Am pulling M from summit meeting. Army not cooperating. Infection being treated. Have arranged best doctors. Will be in Afghanistan in two hours.

-A

Sherlock scowled at his mobile. Stupid Army. Why did they have to make things difficult?

"Morning, Sherlock," Lestrade said blearily on his way past to the kitchen. "Coffee?" Sherlock only grunted in acknowledgement and opened the next text.

23:46

Brother,

Anabella has informed me fully of the situation. Actions have been taken. When you wake stay where you are and have some breakfast. The situation will be resolved.

-MH

Sherlock smirked. He could almost feel sorry for the idiots that Mycroft was about to rain terror down upon. But he didn't. John needed to be home and if the Army was blocking that then Mycroft could wield his power until Sherlock got what he wanted. There was one more text left.

"Good morning, dearest," Joanne greeted him. "Good news then?" She motioned to the mobile with one hand and handed him a cup of coffee with the other. "Drink it, Sherlock."

"Morning, Joanne," he returned the greeting and accepted the coffee. "Yes and no," Sherlock held up the mobile. "Anabella pulled Mycroft from his meeting and he's raising Hell with the Army. But John's hurt badly." He looked down into the dark brown depths of the coffee for a moment and then opened the last message.

04:27

Brother,

Everything has been taken care of. J will be returning to London this afternoon. You may meet him at Sister Agnes' at four. May I suggest you remove all toxic substances and body parts from your flat in the mean time? As J will be returning for good your belongings will be moved to your new lodgings at 221B Baker St. as soon as can be arranged. Do not sulk, little brother. You were going to move there when he came home anyway.

-M

Sherlock scowled at the message for form's sake. He was actually pleased that Mycroft was taking care of the move for him. This way he could stay with John and not worry about packing his things and moving them to Mrs. Hudson's.

"Here, dearest," Joanne set a plate of toast and jam in his lap. "Eat."

"Thank you, no, Joanne, I have to go back to the flat and clean things up before meeting John." He moved to give the plate back.

Joanne merely lifted an eyebrow and stared at him until he relented. "Good boy," she patted his head and Sherlock glared at her while he took a bit of toast.

For twenty minutes Sherlock endured the banal domesticity of the early morning Lestrades before he decided that the conventions of friendship had been met. "I have to go," he announced just after six o'clock and rose to his feet.

Lestrade eyed him shrewdly. "You going to be all right?"

Sherlock nodded. "Fine. I have to go finish up some experiments and then meet John at Sister Agnes' at four."

Lestrade smirked. "Mycroft finished his summit meeting then? Good. He should have known earlier."

Sherlock shook his head with his own smirk. "Anabella pulled him out when she checked the CCTV feeds."

Lestrade chuckled. "That doesn't surprise me nearly as much as it should. That girl adores John. She was probably nearly as concerned as you were."

Sherlock smiled softly. "Yes, she does and she was." His mobile beeped again and he dug it out of his trouser pocket as he hefted his coat to throw it on.

S,

J's condition has improved. Antibiotics fighting infection satisfactorily. Being prepped for transport now. M and I will join you tomorrow. M requests that you not annoy anyone until we're back in the country. The staff at Sister Agnes' are all military trained. Stay safe.

-A

Sherlock shook his head with a small smile. "John will be fine," he told Lestrade.

"Good." The other man sighed in relief. "Do you want a ride to your flat?"

"No, I'll catch a cab or walk." Sherlock nodded to Joanne. "Thank you for breakfast, Joanne. I'll call you later with an update." If Joanne noticed that he was forcing himself to be polite she made no indication. She knew she, Colleen and Ben were among the privileged few that he made the effort for.

"You're welcome, dearest. Tell John we're thinking of him, won't you and please do call if you need anything, Sherlock."

Sherlock nodded and virtually bolted out the door and into the early morning fog of London's streets.