Strange, John thought when he realized it was one in the afternoon and he still hadn't seen Sherlock leave his bedroom. By this time of day, when Sherlock wasn't working on a case, he was usually reading or working on some vile experiment. John grew concerned, so he knocked on Sherlock's bedroom door.
"Stop it!" Sherlock called out in response, sounding pitiful. "I can't deal with you making all this noise right now!" This response seemed very out of character, which made John want to see if anything was wrong. He tried the door and, to his surprise, it was unlocked. John was surprised to find Sherlock lying in bed, his eyes closed tightly.
"Shut the door," Sherlock pleaded. "You're letting too much light in. It's making my head hurt more." John noticed that Sherlock's eyes had been closed when he said this. John left the room and found a navy blue washcloth, which he saturated with cold water and brought to Sherlock.
"I don't have a fever," Sherlock protested as John placed the cool cloth over his eyes.
"I know, but the cool sensation might help with the pain," John explained. "Also, the dark color should help make everything seem less bright." John sat down on the bed next to Sherlock. He put his hands on Sherlock's head and began absentmindedly stroking the dark curls. It made him sad to see his friend in such a state, and he suspected it had to do with the fact that Sherlock's mind was constantly in a state of overwork. He suddenly felt Sherlock begin shaking and, knowing what was about to happen, quickly grabbed the rubbish bin and brought it to Sherlock, who promptly vomited.
"Sorry," Sherlock muttered.
"It's okay," John reassured him, readjusting the washcloth on his face. "Have you slept recently?" he asked. Sherlock's hesitation was the only answer John needed. "I'll be right back," John said as he got up and left the room. He soon came back with water and a large pill for Sherlock.
"Sorry, I know this pill is really big, but I promise it will help," John said. Sherlock barely opened his eyes to see what John had, then turned away.
"No," Sherlock said sharply. "I can just deal with this myself, thanks."
John sighed. "At least drink some water," he commanded, although he was not going to quit his effort to convince Sherlock to take the medicine. After Sherlock had taken a few sips, John tried again. "I promise it won't be as bad as you think," John told Sherlock. "Just make sure you take it with a lot of water so you don't choke on it."
Now Sherlock sighed. "Alright, fine," he said. He did as instructed and noticed that John was right; the pill wasn't as scary as he was expecting. Then he asked, "What now? How long will it take before this bloody headache goes away?"
"Just stay calm," John replied. "You'll start to feel sleepy soon, and when you wake up, you should feel better." John stroked Sherlock's hair a few more times. "When you wake up, I'll go and get us some takeaway for dinner. We can have whatever you want, although I do insist that you eat something." John hated that he even needed to mention this to Sherlock, but he knew how odd Sherlock could be about food. With that, he left the room, shutting the door behind him. He wondered for what was probably the millionth time how Sherlock had gotten by before they met.