For a moment John doubted his eyes.
When he realized that his eyes were in fact working and that he was not dreaming, he got very very angry.
You see a week prior Sherlock had vanished on the trail of a serial killer that targeted the homeless. John had been aware of Sherlock's plan to disguise himself as a vagrant and attract the killer's attention but he had not known that this involved leaving the flat and not coming back for a week.
For all John knew Sherlock could have been dead.
Yet there he was, sleeping peacefully in John's bed. Dark hair uncombed and wild, pale skin nearly matching the color of the sheets, blue dressing gown tangled up with his form and the comforter.
He could have been dead for all John knew.
John's body shook with mixed anger and relief, his hands balling into fists. There might have been tears in his eyes, but he didn't take the time to acknowledge them because he was too busy storming over to the bedside and shaking Sherlock into consciousness.
"Sherlock you wake up right now!" He yelled, and the detective blinked open bleary eyes and fixed John with a weary gaze.
"Mrm...John?" There were dark circles around Sherlock's eyes and he looked thinner than usual, so basically he looked like hell. John suspected this was more because he wasn't there to force Sherlock to take care of himself rather than Sherlock being unable to care for himself.
"Yes. John." The army doctor glared down at his boyfriend. "That is my name. However I seem to be at a loss as to who you are because you couldn't be Sherlock Holmes the man who disappeared off the face of the Earth, and it's good that you're not because if you were I would have to strangle you."
Sherlock's response was a small grunt of acknowledgement and a retreat into the blankets.
"Oh no you don't. Sherlock you owe me an explanation!" John yanked the blankets off leaving his boyfriend shivering and clinging to the sheets.
"Well? Aren't you going to tell me about your oh-so-clever adventure?" John growled.
Sherlock didn't answer.
Now that was unusual, Sherlock always had a comeback he always knew what withering remark was called for. The eerie silence did not bode well.
"Sherlock, are you okay?" John asked, sitting on the edge of the bed and brushing the dark hair out of Sherlock's face. As he did he felt the heat burning away at Sherlock's forehead, and the detective let out a small whimper.
"I'm fine." He croaked, pulling John's hand off his forehead with some reluctance.
"You have a fever." John stated.
"It's fine."
"You went out and got yourself sick."
"It's nothing. You don't need to worry."
John sighed, and then chuckled and soon he was laughing while Sherlock glared up at him.
"I fail to see how this is humorous." Sherlock said caustically, the end of his sentence half obscured by a cough.
"It's just that you really deserved that Sherlock." John smirked. "It's karma."
"I rather not waste time discussing your idiotic belief that the universe is punishing me." Sherlock pouted and pushed himself up far enough to lean over the edge of the bed and pull the comforter back up onto him. He wrapped himself up in it like a cocoon and then plopped back down.
"Oh I'm sorry." John laughed and wrapped his arms around the blanket cocoon. "Don't pout. Have you had anything to eat yet? Any water?"
"No." Sherlock huffed angrily, leaning against his boyfriend.
"Well we'll need to change that. Also I want to get some fever reducers in you, and don't think you're leaving this bed today. For once you are going to do as I say, got it?" John lay a few kisses on Sherlock's neck and jaw.
"Yes, sir..." Sherlock sighed.
Sorry for the late update, I try to update daily but sometimes you just don't write for days.
So to apologize today will be a three for one! Enjoy! And thank you for reviewing so much, I appreciate the feedback!