Sherlock was unhinged; he tried to shoot the yellow happy face on the wall but it didn't calm him, he played the violin but it didn't sooth him, he experimented on the eyeballs with the microwave but it didn't distract him. After a good fifteen minutes he surrendered and called John; "John? I need you to come home right now! It's an emergency!" Quickly he hung up before poor John even had a chance to reply and waited.
Fifteen more minutes after John came barging in, scaring poor Ms. Hudson, and running up the stairs; "Sherlock? What is it? Is everything alright?" He stopped his rants of questions when he noticed Sherlock lying down on the sofa staring at the ceiling in utter boredom "There wasn't an emergency was there?" He asked resisting the urge to rub at his temples in irritation. Sherlock stood up "I was worried." Came the simplistic reply, "Worried…about what?" Sherlock opened and closed his mouth trying to figure out how to answer such a question "Your whereabouts." John sighed, "I was in the supermarket." Sherlock stared, "Oh…" "I even told you before I left!" and yet again Sherlock stared, "Oh…" John pinched the bridge of his nose in irritation; "Is that all you're going to say?" Sherlock stood up quickly walking towards his kitchen "No, did you pick up my orange juice?"
John was irritated yet amused. He had grown accustomed to Sherlock's antics albeit they still annoyed him to no end, but they also amused him, after the annoyance had passed of course. He walked back towards the supermarket having left in a hurry without being able to buy anything when he got Sherlock's call, he smiled amused at the events of day yet one little phrase still rang at the back of his head: "I was worried."
As he restarted his shopping the phrase grew louder and louder and when he finally got to Sherlock's precious orange juice he couldn't help but to obsess over what that could mean, where they in danger? Or was Sherlock simply messing with him? He quickly paid for everything and walked back home with over a thousand hypotheses for the meaning behind that phrase, he considered phoning Mycroft and asking him but would he really know? Sherlock was the biggest enigma he had come across and no one really had him figured out, no even his brother, John supposed that the only person that ever came close was Moriarty but he was of no use.
Once he got home he started putting the groceries away with the help of Mr. Hudson but he was still mulling over that particular phrase, of course by this time he was also wondering how Sherlock managed to get him this worked up by only saying three little words. He cooked some pasta and decided to just quit and ask Sherlock what he meant by that.
Sherlock and John ate dinner quietly following by washing the dishes, afterwards Sherlock went to pick up his violin but John stopped him; "Sherlock? What did you mean when you said you were worried?" Sherlock raised his eyebrows, "Hmm?" "When I ran here from the supermarket." Sherlock turned back to his violin, tuning it, "Sherlock? What did you mean?" "Just that I was worried about you." He replied "Oh… alright, goodnight." John said quite appeased now, retiring for bed.
John settled down on his bed ready to fall asleep when a nagging sensation filled his train of thoughts and quickly Sherlock's words came back to mind: "I was worried about you." What did that mean? John groaned, he was in for a long sleepless night.