It was 3am when John heard someone coughing heavily in the living room beneath his bedroom. The deep coughing voices soon started to become retching noises and John sighed. He swung his legs out of the bed, automatically touching his hurting shoulder and dressing himself before heading downwards.

He opened the door to the livingroom he shared with his best friend. It was dimly lit in the comfy room and John spotted Sherlock crumpled on the couch facing the cussions. His breathing sounded ragged and he was shaking. "Sherlock are you alright?" John asked him walking towards Sherlock. "Leave me alone." Sherlocks response sounded way too tired and hoarse. "I heard you coughing. Do you need something?" John stared at his best friend and scanned him with doctor eyes. Sweaty curls, shaking, pale, hoarse voice, and possibly a fever. John crouched next to Sherlock and put his hand on his mates neck. Sherlock stiffened but did not turn around to face John. "You're running a fever." John sighed. "Just hang on a second, I'm going to get something from the medicin drawer and make you some tea." "I don't need anything. I'm fine, leave me alone...please?"

Please? Did Sherlock just say 'please'? Well, there has to be something defiantly wron with him, otherwise he would never plead for anything. John went to the bathroom to get the medicine he needed. He also wet a cloth with cold water and brought to Sherlock to lay it in his neck. "There you go mate, I'll be I the kitchen to make you some tea, so if you need anything just call, OK?" Sherlock did not answer. His breathing was too shallow in Johns opinion. He frowned and walked towards the kitchen to make his detective some tea with honey.