Hurt Comfort

Bored.

Sherlock barely protested, instead lying back as John snapped the pulse ox back on Sherlock anxiously.

"79," John noted grimly, expertly weaving the oxygen tubing through Sherlock's wild hair, positioning it and slapping Sherlock's hands away as he tried to fidget with it.

Once he was confident that Sherlock was satting well and not going to start pulling at things as soon as his back was turned, he popped his head into the kitchen where Mrs Hudson was still busy with the multiple 'experiments' that Sherlock had developed over the last four days. "Mrs Hudson? Can you keep an eye on Sherlock for ten minutes or so? Just make sure that he doesn't pull anything off," he added, noticing the sudden look of horror on the landlady's face. She nodded timidly, and John led her back into the living room.

"Sherlock," he announced. "I'm going to take a shower and change, Mrs Hudson is going to supervise to make sure you don't do anything stupid. Okay?"

Sherlock nodded miserably.

John turned, smiled at Mrs Hudson reassuringly, and walked into his bedroom for clothes. He was exhausted. He briefly thought of skipping the shower and instead just napping until Mrs Hudson got concerned can called up for him. But remembered Sherlock sleeping on his bed a few nights back, and would need to change the sheets and bedding. But he didm't have the energy for that right now.

A nice hot shower would do wonders right now, he assured himself as he trudged through to the bathroom .

Bored. Sherlock's brain was only functioning only minimally, and he was still bored.

"Mrs Hudson?" he asked pitifully, attempting to throw in a small cough, but only leading to a wheezing spell that left him wheezing. "Can you get me my laptop?" He smiled at her weakly. She looked a bit dubious. "I'm bored," he whined. Mr Hudson seemed to give in a bit as she asked,"And where is it then dearie?" Sherlock frowned. That, was an excellent question. "It's either in my room or John's room." She crossed her arms, making her look frightening for such a small lady. "I could go get it myself...," he ventured. Mrs Hudson pierced a stare. If Sherlock didn't know better, he would have suspected that was what killed her husband. "Or not.." he muttered, more to himself than to Mrs Hudson, who had begun to walk off to his bedroom. So he just sat there pondering wether he had enough time or energy to go rescue one of his experiments.

Not likely he decided, which was a good thing because as soon as he determined that, Mrs Hudson was back. She was indeed holding Sherlock's laptop. If she wondered why it was in John's room, she wasn't saying. But her eyes twinkled. "Thank you," he said quietly as she handed him the laptop. Mrs Hudson smiled. "Of course dear, would you like a nice cuppa?" Sherlock nodded, wondering when his laptop had gotten so heavy. Perhaps it would crush him. The weight of the internet and the collective knowledge and stupidity it contained. And while he planned to write a blog post, his body thought otherwise and fell asleep.

John was absolutely thrilled with himself that he didn't fall asleep in the shower, and it did make him feel a bit better, even if not more awake. Perhaps Sherlock would sleep, and he could rest to. So he found it hilarious, perhaps to much so, that Sherlock was passed out on the sofa, laptop on his chest, open to his blog. John carefully removed the laptop from Sherlock and placed it on the table next to a seaming cup of tea. But this had milk in it, Sherlock didn't take - oh. it was for him. he plodded into the kitchen where Mrs Hudson wax cleaning up, and gave her a hug.

"Oh John!" she exclaimed playfully swatting him on the head . John blushed," Thanks for the tea. And watching Sherlock" Mrs Hudson smiled and went back to the kitchen. John sighed and fell into his chair, and fell asleep.