Sherlock was soaking wet from the sweat, a direct result of his ordeal, his clothes were plastered to his skin and his hair was yet curling more from the moisture.
John held Sherlock until the trembling has slowed and his breathing because slightly slower, Sherlock's eyes were shut and appeared to be asleep, the exhaustion now evidently taking its toll.
After such a long period of silence john turned to the now crossed legged Lestrade who was be seated on the floor about 4 feet away taking care to give the two men space, and addressed him in no more than a whisper.
''Thank you such much Greg, I was so afraid I had no idea what was going on, thanks for getting hear so fast, but I think it might be best if you go now, as he's most likely to be extremely uncomfortable about witnesses to the situation later,''.
''It's absolutely no problem mate, are you sure? You don't need my help or anything? I hate the thought of leaving you? Why don't I help you get him to his room and then while you deal with him, ill clean this up,'' said Greg gesturing the saw dust and splintered timbre door that covered the tiled floor.
''Would you?'' john asked, 'that would be absolutely marvelous''.
''Of course''.
John raised Sherlock's arm and put it over his shoulder, Lestrade doing the same, they hoisted the completely limp detective upwards and carried him down the hall to his room and laid him on his bed.
Lestrade upon looking at john to check nothing else was required of him, grabbed the broom in the kitchen and headed to the bathroom, leaving John to deal Sherlock.
John looked at Sherlock, of whom now lay motionless on his bed and realized he needed to snap into action before the detective awoke.
Without much thought to what he was doing, so as to avoid embarrassment he stripped Sherlock out of his sodden clothes, with the knowledge that this was defiantly more than sweat, oh Sherlock he thought, he was defiantly unwell.
He dressed Sherlock in some new pyjama bottoms, leaving his top half bare and laid him under the covers of his bedding, taking note of to what extreme Sherlock's ribs protruded through his skin, making a mental note to tackle the problem with Sherlock when he awoke.
John laid the detective onto his pillow tucked him in and pulled his arm chair to the side of the bed, and settled himself to a night of waiting and make the resolve to sit with the detective till he awoke again.
Never a peaceful moment he thought to himself with a painful smile.
PLEASE REVIEW AND FOLLOW IT WOULD MEAN THE WORLD TO ME, ID LOVE TO HEAR ANYTHING YOU HAVE OT SAY, FEEL FREE TO MESSAGE ME.
M
