"Okay. Alright… what the hell was that?" John nodded back toward the stairs. "You're… happy."

"Oh…" Sherlock shook his head with a slight smile. "Of course I am. How could I not be? I have a case."

"Like hell you do."

"Pardon?" Sherlock frowned.

"You heard me. I've been saying this all along. No cases until you're completely in the clear." John crossed his arms stubbornly, hating himself for having to do this.

Seeing Sherlock actually happy about something for once in forever was... nice. No, it was fantastic.

And now John had to take that away.

He was aware that Sherlock was probably seeing him as something of a cold-hearted devil at the moment, or a pointless obstacle to work around, but he wasn't going to give way.

He would have to hold his ground.

At first he just looked confused, but then Sherlock's expression grew darker and darker. His gaze was sharp, and it seemed to cut right through John like a razor blade.

Displeasure.

John braced himself for the inevitable.

"You're not my mother. So stop acting like it."

"No, you're right. I'm just your friend."

"I know!" Sherlock leapt out of the chair and paced a few steps. "You can't be serious... I've held back for over two weeks... I can take care of myself... I need this! I can't stand this anymore—just lying about every day, being reminded to take pointless pills, and doing nothing! The boredom is indescribable! The ennui is physically painful! You have no idea—"

"Sherlock—I know. I know you hate this. But I'm just trying to do what's best for you."

He scoffed loudly. "If that was really what you were trying to do, you'd have no problem with me taking this case."

"You know that's not true. Your immune system is still—"

"Oh, shut up! Who really cares about that? I'm bored!"

"I care about that."

Sherlock rolled his eyes. "Quit being a doctor for once, and stop trying to boss me around. I've accepted your help for as long as I needed it, and now I'm perfectly capable of taking care of my own transport again, thank you very much. You don't have to play nurse anymore."

"Is that what you think I'm doing? Jesus..." John had to take a moment to roll his eyes, take a deep breath, and collect himself. "You know what? I take it back—you are spectacularly ignorant." He ignored the scandalized look on Sherlock's face. "You… massive twat… You're going to make me spell it out for you, aren't you? That's what I have to do. I have to be the one to explain the obvious. You… You're just… This is ridiculous. Sherlock Holmes. Listen closely—and don't give me that look—" He took another big breath, composing himself. "I… care… about… you. Okay? I don't care about your… bloody experiments, or your mind palace, or your detective skills—I care about Sherlock. I mean, I do care about those things, but I don't care about them—I said don't give me that look."

Sherlock seemed frozen with an expression of deep incredulity.

Shell shock.

Blank stare.

Confusion.

…Uncertainty?

"Sherlock…? Is this news to you…? What did you think I cared about?"

The detective drew in a deep breath and shook himself out of his stupor. "That's…" He struggled for a few seconds. "…Illogical."

"Why?"

He tilted his head and blinked, surprised that John had questioned it. "Well… obviously… because… Clearly, it's… well…"

"Human beings are worth more than just their skill sets. I wasn't sure if you knew that."

"Yes, I know." Sherlock sounded defensive now, trying to recover from his momentary slip. "I know that."

"And you're a human being, too."

"I… know that too."

Not so sure.

"But do you know what I'm saying?"

"I…" Sherlock spoke slowly, testing his footing and finding there to be no solid ground anywhere at all. "Of course I do."

"It's true. I don't care what your massive intellect says on the contrary, it is. Believe me, this is one thing I know better than you do."

Sherlock swallowed.

The uncertainty had swallowed Sherlock.

"I'm… not sure how relevant all this is to the… current argument."

"You mean about me letting you take the case?" John almost smiled wryly. "Well… I just had to explain to you exactly why I said no. Because you might get hurt. But, how about this… if you can find one that you can figure out from in here in the living room, mostly, then maybe I'll be more agreeable. Okay? Otherwise, no. But later? Yeah, absolutely."

Sherlock's fists clenched at his sides, and John could see his jaw set. "John… do we have any rubber bands?"