Molly slowly became aware of her body's extreme discomfort. Upon realizing where she was, she jumped to her feet. "Oh I'm so sorry, Sherlock!" she said frantically as she grabbed a messy knot of tubing. Finally finding the right one, she changed the feeding bag and started carefully moving Sherlock onto his other side.
"I can't feel my body, Sherlock," Molly said, rubbing her hip, "you probably know how that feels, being in the same spot all day. But let me tell you, the floor is not a good place to sleep."
Molly chattered non-stop away as she did all her daily activities. Finally, with Sherlock all taken care of, she opened her overnight bag and grabbed a new set of clothes. "Don't peek now, Sherlock" she said, laughing to herself.
"." Sherlock thought to himself with mounting frustration. He tried to return to concentrating on his pulse and breathing to keep the illusion of unconsciousness but no matter how hard he tried, he could not shut out Molly's constant jabbering. Hadn't he made up the favour yet? Must she continuously subject him to this torture? That joke, .day.
"Mind palace" he muttered to himself. Molly looked up thinking she heard a voice, but went back to applying lipstick.