It had been a while since the last time I passed out. The last time was in… Afghanistan. Yes, during the war. But that time it was caused by a blow on the head. It hadn't been anything like this.

The next thing I remember is lying on the cold ground. Someone was holding my legs up and I heard somebody talking at the background.

"We need a doctor here!"

It was Lestrade. I tried to say something, but my mouth wasn't working yet like it should have. God. It pissed me off so badly.

"John, John! Do you hear me?"

This time it was him. I could have recognized his voice even if I was half dead.

"John, answer to me. Now", he demanded. His hand was on my cheek. I knew it from his long, skinny fingers, which were stroking my temples gently. His fingers were cold and… shaking. Or was it just me? I couldn't tell anymore.

"I- I'm a doctor", I breathed when I could control my voice again.

"You aren't in a condition to help yourself at the moment", Lestrade answered me from nearby. I sighed – regretting it immediately. Everything I did, hurt. Even breathing felt like someone was scratching my lungs with a peeler. And on top of that, my head felt like someone had driven over me with a truck.

"Can you open your eyes?" he, Sherlock, asked with a cold tune in his voice. His icy fingers were now behind my neck.

"Yeah…" I mumbled, without actually doing anything. I couldn't move. I didn't want to move because I was afraid it might have hurt even more.

"John."

"Yes?" The noises which escaped between my lips were weak. I felt so pathetic and so… tired.

"Open your eyes", he commanded, pulling his hand away from me. I sighed a little. When I slowly opened my eyes, his face was the first thing I saw. He was paler than usually and the look in his eyes was – worried? Maybe I was still too dizzy. I tried my best not to frown, because it just made the pain on my forehead worse.

"Did I not tell you not to fall over or faint on a crime scene?" he said quietly, squinting his eyes a little. I mumbled something agreeing to him and let him to help me sit up. I was leaning on him a little, since the dizziness hadn't gone away. I could see from the corner of my eyes Lestrade coming closer and kneeling down.

"I'll call the ambulance. Our men aren't capable to help in this situation", Lestrade said, taking his cellphone out from his pocket. I flinched a little. I didn't want an ambulance, not to mention doctors. Even if there were something wrong with me, I didn't want to know it yet. It wasn't its time yet. I wasn't ready for the news. More importantly, he wasn't ready for the news.

"No, it's alright. I- I haven't eaten much today and it has been a stressful week at the clinic. There is no need to make a big deal out of this", I stammered and tried to smile. It was hard, lying like that to the people I actually cared. There's no need to judge me. I was selfish and I knew it. But it was easier to let all this to be for a while.

Weird. I wasn't usually that person who let things "to be" when facing them is hard. He was like that.

The look which Lestrade gave me didn't look like he was going to let me escape that easily.

"You just fainted. And you're paler than snow. This is not healthy. Are you sure that I shouldn't-", Lestrade started, but Sherlock interrupted him.

"Get us a cab", he commanded the police inspector. Lestrade raised his eyebrows.

"What? Where are you going? Aren't you going to take the case?" the police inspector asked in confusion. Sherlock wrapped his arm around my shoulders like before, only this time lot tighter.

"We're going home. I'm going to think about this when we'll get there", he answered coolly and then asked with a quieter voice, "John, can you stand?"

"Somehow", I answered, nodding. He helped me to stand up and gave an irritated look to Lestrade. The police inspector didn't look like he was going to let them go like that. Sherlock rolled his eyes in frustration.

"His name is Jonathan "the Rock" Moore. The police have been looking for him for the past seven days, didn't you know that? He has been to prison twice because of bank robbery and sexual harassment. That's everything I can tell you right now", he said coolly, "If you wanted, you could search around for more clues. Let me know if you find something."

"Could you get us a cab?" he asked again, this time a little bit nicer and smiled an ironical smile to the police officer. Lestrade gave me one worried look before hurrying to the main road. Sherlock sighed a bit and started walking me after him, supporting me the whole way. I have never, ever in my life, felt as embarrassed as I did then.

The next clear memory I have is from the taxi. Like when we came to the Grange Park, he hadn't talked to me after we got into the car. I had caught him staring at me few times, but every single time he turned his head away or tried to act like he hadn't been watching me. After a short while I gave up waiting and started to look outside from the window, trying to concentrate on the buildings and people we passed by. When I finally looked at him, I caught his eyes examining my face. I sighed in frustration.

"You are staring at me. Again", I sighed in frustration after a while. He raised his eyebrows.

"And?"

"It's annoying, stop it. It looks like you're waiting for me to pass out again",

"But you most probably are going to pass out again."

"No I'm not."

"Yes you are."

That made me shut up. Of course he'd know.

I took a few short breaths and closed my eyes. There was no sense at fighting with him now about this subject. He wouldn't listen to me anyway and it'd be in vain to lie to him. I massaged my aching forehead with my hand and closed my eyes. I would see my bed in a completely different light when we got home. My eyelids felt heavy and it was hard not to fall asleep right there, on the backseat of a small, black cab.

I was done talking to him for now, but the sudden click made me look at him again. It was him, taking his wool jacket off and offering it to me.

"You should sleep, John. It'll take more than forty minutes for us to get home in this traffic. And you're shaking", he said quietly, when he put the jacket over my shoulders. I hadn't even realized how cold I was. Suddenly it felt like I was freezing to death. I nodded a little and mumbled a small "thanks" to him but he was already staring out of the window. I could almost hear him thinking about the case in his genius mind. I couldn't do anything else but to stare at him for a while. He was so concentrated, lost in his own little mind.

It didn't take too long for me to fall asleep. Even though the motion of the cab made me feel a little bit sick, I couldn't keep my eyes open anymore. His jacket smelled after cigarettes and eucalyptus and in a way, the smell was kind of… pleasant.

tbc