He slept there that night, and in the morning signed the consent papers for the organ harvesting. The surgery wouldn't be until the next morning, when all the recipients had been alerted and were in hospital.
Mycroft showed up shortly after that.
He sat in John's room without saying a word to Sherlock for nearly an hour.
He finally got up to leave, and that was when he spoke.
"He would be proud of you," he whispered.
Sherlock shook his head. That didn't matter.
Mycroft left.
There was a steady stream of others coming in that afternoon. Apparently word had gotten out.
Everyone came to see him. Mike, Sally, Anderson, Angelo, Henry, Louise, Sarah, and of course, Molly.
Of all of them, she was the only one Sherlock didn't mind seeing. Molly was awkward and never knew what to say, but at least Sherlock didn't have to pretend in front of her, didn't have to be anything he wasn't. Not when she'd already seen him at his worst.
Sherlock ignored all the people for the most part, leaving Lestrade to talk with most of them, occasionally Mrs Hudson, who was often overcome by tears.
There were far too many flowers and hugs that afternoon for Sherlock's liking.
John would have elbowed him and told him to be nice.
Sherlock kept waiting for it, but it never came.