The first thing he felt was the warmth.
He looked down to see John's hand wrapped tightly around his own bandaged one. John was asleep, sitting in an uncomfortable looking hospital chair and slumped over Sherlock's bed.
There was a warmth spreading throughout his body that was not due to John's comforting touch. Sherlock tried to figure out what it was, and to figure out what exactly had happened, but he couldn't remember much.
He looked out the window and the darkness told him that some time had passed since what he now recognised to have been the ambulance ride to the hospital.
At that moment John started stirring. Sherlock knew that the second John woke up he would let go of his hand so he braced himself for the disappointment.
John's eyes opened slowly but as soon as he saw their hands he must have remembered where he was because he quickly sat up and looked at Sherlock, relief spreading across his face when he noticed his eyes were open. John sat back in his chair, letting go of Sherlock's hand as he did so. Sherlock tried to hide his disappointment.
"Hey," John croaked, and cleared his throat, "how are you feeling, Sherlock?"
"High," the detective replied, somewhat apprehensively. "Though I'm not entirely sure why, since I didn't take anything." He eyed John with an intensity, silently asking for an explanation as to what had happened. It was disconcerting waking up feeling like this when it wasn't his own doing.
John nodded curtly, understanding Sherlock's need for reassurance. "That would be the painkillers they gave you. It wasn't long ago, so it's no wonder you're really feeling them."
Sherlock simply nodded, still trying to put all the facts together.
John noted the silence and the confusion still on Sherlock's face. "What do you remember?"
Sherlock closed his eyes. If John hadn't seen him in his mind palace several times he might have suspected Sherlock had fallen asleep.
"Heat. I remember heat. And," he paused for a few seconds, trying to organise his thoughts, "there was something… warm. And soft. I haven't the faintest idea what it was though. After that I just remember being moved to the ambulance."
"Wait, there was more," Sherlock said, squinting his eyes in John's direction. "You were there, too. At least I think you were. Could've just been in my head though. You often are."
Sherlock didn't seem to realise the implication of what he had just said. John sat with his mouth hanging slightly open as he listened to Sherlock rationalising John's presence.
Could've just been in my head though. You often are.
John couldn't get those words out of his own head. But what really shocked him was how casual Sherlock sounded. As though there was no question that John would be there. Whether in reality or in Sherlock's head, John would always be by his side.
"Of course I was there," John replied, his voice thick with emotion.
Sherlock looked up when he heard John. There was something in his voice. Sherlock tried to deduce what it was but John's expression gave nothing away. He cleared his throat nervously. "Of course, you are a doctor after all."
"That's not why I was there." John looked into Sherlock's eyes, locking their gazes together. "Did you forget?"
"Forget what?" Sherlock asked, confused.
"It's you and me against the rest of the world."
