Disclaimer: settings and characters as depicted in BBC series not mine. No money being made. Plot is mine.
Three AM Musings
Eight days after he woke, John was released from the hospital. The doctors weren't happy, but John was having none of it and insisted on leaving whether they signed him out or not. Sherlock was a silent observer in all of this – he knew better than to stick his two pence in when John was using that voice – though he made several mental notes about the couch, the front room in general and the kitchen.
To Sherlock's surprise, Lestrade drove them home. He'd already come to take John's statement, with Sherlock a silent, glowering witness. The DI had barely said two words to Sherlock during the entire process, perhaps afraid that he'd alienate the sociopath and send him into Moriarty's arms. Sherlock was more interested in helping John endure the ride home: his wounds were tender and pulled uncomfortably with each movement he made and to top it all off the veteran was refusing to take the full dose of painkillers that his doctors had prescribed.
As Sherlock had suspected, John established himself on the couch, an appropriation of the front room that Sherlock actually endorsed. It meant that John would be in close proximity to Sherlock's work and reference materials and would therefore be able to pay proper attention to his flatmates work. Mrs Hudson also approved, but that was mainly to do with John's proximity to her and her mothering: Sherlock allowed it only so long as it didn't interfere with his own work.
He allowed John a full day to recover from leaving the hospital, using the time his flatmate dozed on the couch to gather his evidence, including a copy of the disc that Moriarty's people had sent to the Yard. At about three am, Sherlock curled himself into John's chair, the Union Jack pillow in his lap and watched his flatmates sleep. John was in some pain, as evidenced by the slight frown on his face and the still way he held his body. Sherlock didn't like John to be in pain – it made his chest tight.
It didn't help that he was unsure of John's reaction to Moriarty's offer. The people at the Yard seemed so sure that he was going to take it up that Sherlock felt almost disappointed. While he had never felt any desire to be considered something so mundane as a friend to the Yarders, he certainly had hoped that they would at least accord him the courtesy of treating him as a colleague. This lack of trust was as frustrating as it was disappointing. They had known him longer than John had and so if Scotland Yard thought Sherlock was one step away from aligning himself with a master criminal, what would John think? His flatmate had known him for a shorter amount of time, had been subjected to far more indignities and nuisances than the Yard ever had due mainly to simple proximity and had now been seriously injured by Sherlock's single focussed approach to Moriarty's Game.
Before he'd been kidnapped and strapped to a bomb, John had yelled at Sherlock about his attitude to the Game. John had been angry and disappointed at Sherlock's apparent disregard for the very human game pieces that Moriarty had coerced onto the board. John was a very warm, caring individual, who valued every life he came across – or did so until they proved to be a danger to others. Sherlock wasn't like that: people were data to him – or something he manipulated to get what he wanted. He couldn't bring himself to care about the minutiae of other people's daily lives – it just wasn't relevant. This difference of opinion had not been resolved, which made it hard to accept John's actions at the pool. He'd offered to die for Sherlock and take Moriarty with him – Sherlock wasn't sure that he could trust that offer.
Why would John sacrifice himself for a man that he was angry with? For that matter why would he sacrifice himself for someone who was just a colleague come flatmate? Even after all this time, the denial of the term friend rankled with Sherlock, though he'd done his best to push that feeling aside. It was irrational and irrelevant, but it still popped into his head at odd moments, making him question John's reasons for staying at Baker Street and helping out with the Work. Then there was the Question Of Sarah. John gave all the signs of being attracted to, if not in love with, Sherlock Holmes. He gave none of those signs with Sarah, though he was certainly interested in having sex with her. Sherlock had attempted to nip in the bud any sexual attraction that John might have felt towards him, but it apparently hadn't worked. Sherlock was uncomfortable with his reaction to this – he shouldn't be pleased about John wanting him, should he? He'd never been interested in that sort of thing before – it seemed so disruptive and messy.
It seemed that he and John would need to discuss this situation together, before they could go on and discuss their response to Moriarty. It was bound to be fraught with emotions and distorted facts.
Sherlock was not looking forward to that.