18 Days
God, I was tired, been in the hospital to make sure that John doesn't…. doesn't…. well, I've been up all night, and he'll be ok. But god, the moment he woke up… He was pretty embarrassed that he passed out on the street. He was asleep for a whole day.
"Sherlock. Sherlock… Sherlock!"
"Hm? John, are you ok?" I looked up from the couch, moving my hands up from under my chin to my nose, pressing my palms together.
"I'm fine Sherlock. I just wanted to know if you would come finish the case with me." He pushed himself up from the couch with the flag on it, his normal spot, and walked over to the doorway, leaning against it. He was trying so hard to remain strong. In truth, I was bored out of my mind, sitting around the apartment all day, but every minute that John was comfortable and safe was a good minute in my book.
"That case is dull." Wrong. It's actually highly intriguing. I really want to study the back of the closet see if there is a hidden door, maybe some system of poison, a gun rig… "I think I'm gonna wait till the next case comes round."
John rolled his eyes. "Look. I know you are lying. You did that thing where you drop all the unnecessary vowels, so you can shorten the lie." God, do I do that? I'll work on that.
"Fine. Let's go look at the apartment, then we will come straight home and find another case that's more interesting." I slid off the couch, stepped over the coffee table, grabbed my phone, (and put 911 on speed dial, just in case John… well…) and followed John out the door, to find a car already sitting there… with a gun aimed right at my head.