It was another day before John was allowed to visit Sherlock. Rather, it was another day before he could stay awake long enough, as he was still technically not allowed. Another 'perk' courtesy of Mycroft (all hail the British government *bow, bow*). He was still recovering from his head injury, and the doctors did not think it wise he be up so soon. John informed them if they did not allow him to visit Sherlock, he would get himself there, regardless of the consequences. It worked.
Sherlock was mostly awake for John's visit. He'd insisted on no pain meds since the last dose, which was quite a while ago, and both John and Lestrade could see it on his face.
"I'm rather disappointed that I missed the external fixators," John commented on seeing Sherlock for the first time in what seemed like ages.
Sherlock managed to smile at him. At least it seemed to be a smile. A sort of grimace smile.
If john had looked at Lestrade, he'd have seen him looking impressed. Lestrade had been trying all day to get him to smile, or do something that wasn't wholly a scowl, grimace, or snarl.
But John didn't see Lestrade's face because he was busy reassuring himself that Sherlock was here, not dead, not entirely whole and unbroken, but not dead. And that would do just fine for him.
John did notice, however, Lestrade eyeing his non-broken arm clutching one of Sherlock's.
"Problem Greg?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. "Because I seem to recall when a certain someone held my hand whilst I was comatose. They likely believed I had no awareness and therefore, no recollection of it. However," he continued, smirking at Lestrade, careful to keep his voice low as to not disturb Sherlock, who'd just fallen asleep. "I do. So. Problem?"
Lestrade only grinned.
"No problem at all."