Sherlock suddenly sat up straight, putting a finger on his lips to make John silent. He listened and then relaxed.

"What was that all about?"

"Mrs Hudson"

"Im sorry?"

"She's on her way up"

John clasped his book tightly. "I thought you said she was with relatives". "Thats what she told me". The door opened to reveal... Mrs Hudson. She took one look at both men and tutted disapprovingly. "Really you two, you need to learn how to take better care of yourselves"

"Hello Mrs Hudson" They replied in unison and then stared at each other once they'd realised what they had just done.

"Mrs Hudson?" The woman in question was busying herself around the kitchen. "Yes dear?". "I thought you were visiting relatives" replied John. "Oh I was dear, but the thought of leaving you two, as you are, alone on Christmas Day, I had to come and say hello." John smiled, that was kind of her. Sherlock however frowned.

"How did you know?"

"Know what darling?"

"About our injuries"

Mrs Hudson smiled, her eyes secretive. "Never you mind that. Now Im going to go downstairs and make you boys something nice for lunch. Hows that?" She took another look at them, shook her head and walked downstairs. John got up, limped over and closed the door. Sherlock had his hand to his mouth, his eyes glazed over. Oh great his thinking face. Brilliant.

"Sherlock"

"John"

"Whats wrong now?"

Sherlock turned and smiled. "How did she know John? How did she know what had happened to us? Or that we'd be back home by today? Someones told her... but who... and why?" He continued to look pensive. "Does it matter?" "I have to know John" John ran his fingers against the back of his neck. "Your brains probably just suffering from deduction withdrawal" He received a chuckle from his flatmate with that comment.

'Yes well, firstly with being unconscious and then stuck in that godawful place for days on end. Its no wonder" John's face fell. Shit, did I say something wrong? "John?". "Sherlock... I was having fun why did you have to say that?" He rubbed his hand across his eyes. "What... what did I say?" The detective was suddenly concerned.

"You... unconscious, like I needed that memory to pop up again. Do you have any idea how worried I was?" Sherlock looked down, ashamed for what he'd said. "Most people don't worry about me, besides Mycroft". John stood, heading to the kitchen but then turned around. "I worry! Sherlock you were unconscious for a week, they were'nt sure when or if you'd wake up! I spent every day wondering if I was ever going to hear my best friends voice again." His hand fell against his mouth. "And then by the last day, I was having to consider life after you Sherlock. Having to consider you laying there for the rest of your life! You... you have no idea do you?"

Sherlock rested his elbows on the arms of the armchair, his head in his hands.