I'm under a doctor's ordered quarantine but cannot work on my piece 'The Talk'. Let's just say I understand both boys' physical pains in this piece. And more!
So here's a quick 221B (And it is exact despite what fanfiction says) to help us all smile. It is also unbetaed so please forgive any mistakes! :D
I do not own, nor do I profit from.
Of course, I would get his bloody cold! And on bloody Valentine's Day too! John thought, as he blew his nose once more.
A week earlier, Sherlock had come down with a cold and spent the next four days moaning. His whole body was desperately sore, his cough intolerable, and only John's care would do. He knew Sherlock was being a bit over the top, but the doctor had selflessly picked used tissues up off the floor and made certain there was always something to drink nearby.
Now, lying sick on their sofa himself, John was a quieter patient but a frustrated one. His plans to propose that evening were well and truly ruined, and the rawness of his throat only made John feel worse. There would be no dinner at Angelo's followed by an important question in the lab they'd originally met in.
Sherlock then came up the stairs and placed a bowl of chicken soup in front of John before sitting close by. Knowing it was made by Mrs. Hudson, and therefore safe, John began to eat.
"Good?" Sherlock asked a minute later.
"Yes," John answered hoarsely .
Sherlock opened John's laptop to email Lestrade. "Yes, by the way," he suddenly said.
John looked over in confusion.
"Yes, I will marry you."
Eyes red and nose running, John Watson beamed.