"Hold still will ya?" John was carefully attempting to remove a bullet from Sherlock's left shoulder. He had Sherlock sitting on the counter with his back to the wall. John had his hand on his chest and lowered the tweezers into the wound. Sherlock glared at him as he gritted his teeth. The tweezers emerged with the bullet in between the arms.
"Is it out?" Sherlock asked as I doused the wound with hydro peroxide. He gave a yelp and John wrapped the wound.
"Yes it's out. Now you need to rest, so it doesn't get infected."
"But-"
"No buts, doctor's orders."
"Fine," he mumbled as he got off the counter and laid down on his bed. John put the kettle on and paced around. He had a look of worry on his face.
"John would you stop worrying at me? I will be fine now bring me some tea." Sherlock called as the kettle squealed. John poured him a cup and brought Sherlock it. Sherlock sighed and sipped at it. "Thanks."
"It's not a problem; now go to sleep before I drug you." John smirked as Sherlock's eyes slid shut.