Oh yeah! Double digit chapter time baby! (fist pump, superiority dance, etc.) Thank you to everybody, seriously, it wouldn't have gotten this far if it hadn't been for your reviews. This is a bit on the shorter side, but I thought it was a shorter side prompt. I hope you guys enjoy. :)
It had been days since Sherlock had slept, but John didn't really worry. Of course he worried a little bit–with the protectiveness he felt for Sherlock and his doctor's instinct how could he not? But he knew that eventually Sherlock's body would shut down, (despite Sherlock's protests), and force him to rest. And so when John came home that night after a slow day at the clinic, the sight of Sherlock slumped in his usual armchair did not surprise him in the least, and it brought a smile to the tired doctor's weary face and a certain contentedness to his heart. He imagined it was how a parent must feel after watching their child struggle for days on end and then at long last find peace.
He saw Sherlock's bare feet and noticed that he wasn't wearing his coat and scarf either. So he went to his room, grabbed the blanket off the bed, and came back into the study. He knew he didn't have to worry about waking Sherlock up, so he took as much force as necessary to properly wrap the blanket around the detective.
He took a step back, smiled, and then walked into the kitchen to fix himself a snack.
When Sherlock awoke at noon the next day, John had already gone to work. At first the blanket had confused him, but then he recognized it as the one from John's room. He looked at the door, knowing that it would be the one that John would enter through in a few hours, and smiled. As though he were actually there.
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