Johnlock Oneshots

2- Sick

John's POV
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"What's wrong?" I asked. Sherlock wasn't being himself. His eyes were glazed over, but not in the way they are when he goes to his mind palace. He was pursing his lips and looked uncomfortable. Both of his hands were clenching the arms of his chair.
"Nothing." His voice sounds strained.
"Sherl, I know something's up."
"Nothing is wrong. I'm fine." He furrowed his brows and shut his eyes.
"...Okay. Whatever you say. I'm making tea, do you want some?" I don't believe him for a second.
"Yeah." Something is off with him. Sherlock and I have been together for two years, I can read him well.
I make some chamomile tea, pouring it into cups for both of us. I bring them out to the living room and set one on the side table next to Sherlock. I take my seat. Minutes go by and Sherlock still hasn't taken a sip, he's just been staring at it.
"I'm asking again. What's wrong?"
"Nothing." He slowly picks up the tea, hands shaking. He takes a small sip before the tea slips from his grasp and shatters. Sherlock quickly jerks forward and throws up.
"Oh oh okay, I'll be right there. I'm going to get you the trash can." I grab the bin from the kitchen, as well as a roll of paper towels and a wet washcloth. "I'm here. Can you stand?"
"Y-yeah." Sherlock slowly stands and immediately falls back into his chair. I wrap his arm around my shoulder, supporting his back with one hand and his side with my other.
"Okay, we're gonna stand on the count of three. One...two...three." I pull him upright. Step by step, I guide Sherlock to the bathroom and sit him in the tub.
Sherlock slurs slightly as he says, "What're we doing in here?"
"We're getting you cleaned up." I unbutton his shirt, pulling it off his arms. "Do you need help with your trousers?"
"No, 's okay." He fumbles with the zipper for close to a minute until he gets hold of it. I try as hard as I can to remove the trousers gently.
After throwing the bundle of clothes into the sink, I turn on the bath. Sherlock's still in his underwear, but I think it's gonna be more trouble then it's worth taking them off before cleaning him up. I'm not surprised that he got this sick. During our entire relationship, he hasn't even had a cold. It's not shocking that the one time he gets sick, it's really bad.
Sherlock looks like he's going to throw up again so I grab the bin. I was right, he starts heaving. I gently turn him toward the bucket.
"It's okay. Let it out." I rub his back with one hand while taking the thermometer off the ledge of the sink. Once he's done, I guide Sherlock to sitting position against the back of the tub. "Open up, let me take your temperature."
A few seconds later, it beeps. 104 Fahrenheit. I turn the cold water faucet on. A cold bath is the quickest way to cool down someone with a high fever. Sherlock doesn't even flinch when the cold water hits his skin. He's propped in a position that I know he can't fall from for now, so I run to the cabinets to get some advil, a cup and a towel.
By the time I've gotten back, the tub is mostly filled, so I turn off the tap.
"Take this." I give him the pills and help him take a sip of the water. I run the towel under the cold water and lay it on his forehead.
It takes me about a half an hour to clean him up. I take his temp again. The bath worked, it's down to 101 Fahrenheit. By the time I'm done, the advil has started working so he doesn't need as much help standing. Sherlock wraps himself in his robe before I slowly lead him to our bedroom.
It takes him a bit, but Sherlock manages to change into pajamas and get in bed. I pull the comforter over him.
"I'll be right back, I'm gonna go grab a pot for you and clean up a bit."
He closes his eyes. "Thanks John. Love you."
I kiss his forehead. "Love you too, Sherl."
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Sorry it took me this long to update, I've been working on my other fic. It's also johnlock if you want to read it.