"John," moaned Sherlock as he tossed on the hospital bed in his sleep. John was sitting next to the bed with Constable Lestrade watching Sherlock nervously from the corner of the room.
"How long has he been doing that?" Lestrade asked. John tilted his head as he watched Sherlock tossing and gave him a contemplative look.
"Since he got here. So about three, four hours," John replied. Lestrade made a light "oh" before flipping through his note pad. John looked back at Sherlock as he emitted another moan of his name, scrunching his face up at the unconscious boy, "do you think he's calling for me?"
"It's possible. Do you know any other Johns he's associated with?"
"No, but it just seems a bit strange. He never seemed to like me that much. Not since…"
"Since when?"
"Well, basically as soon as I introduced myself properly. He just… hated me," John finished, dropping his face and fiddling with his fingers.
"I don't think it's you," Lestrade suggested, "maybe he knew a John before you and that John hurt him somehow. Maybe-"
"Sherlock!" cried a voice from the doorway. Lestrade and John turned to find Jim staring mournfully at Sherlock with his hands linked together in front of his chest. He walked slowly towards the bed before flinging his arms out dramatically and embracing the sleeping boy. John and Lestrade exchanged confused looks as Jim clutched Sherlock tightly. Sherlock squirmed in his grip and cried out for John. Jim shot John a dirty look that John only just caught before returning his attention back to the bed.
"The jar," Jim whispered.
"What?" Lestrade asked, taking a step forward so he could hear better.
"The jar. Sherlock's jar. Where is it?"
"I don't-"
"JOHN!" Sherlock yelled as he sat up abruptly. His confused eyes travelled around the room before settling on Lestrade, "you. Why are you here?"
"Sherlock," called Jim, stroking his arm soothingly. Sherlock flicked his eyes over to him and pulled his arm away with a scowl. He looked at all the occupants of the room, eyes flashing with anger and his scowl carved onto his face.
"What are all of you doing here? I don't want you here! Out!" he pointed dramatically out the doorway. Lestrade nodded slightly and turned out of the room, followed by a disheartened Jim and finally, John. As John was about to leave, however, he was blocked by a suited man holding an umbrella. The man smiled at John and pulled out a small diary.
"John Watson?" he asked, frowning slightly at the book.
"Yes, that's me," he replied cautiously.
"Mycroft Holmes," he introduced himself, "I'd like to thank you for saving my little brother."
"Excuse me?" came Sherlock's sharp voice from the bed. Mycroft looked up from John, focusing his attention on Sherlock, who was sitting up against the head of the bed with his arms folded.
"I'm thanking him, Sherlock. Surely you've heard of this social convention?"
"Of course I've heard of it! I want to know why you're thanking him."
"As I said, he rescued you from the building. If he hadn't, you'd be dead."
"I wouldn't have minded."
"Sherlock!" John finally snapped, turning to his school colleague, "for God's sake! You don't give a shit about anyone else but yourself, do you? Why don't you get off your high-fucking-horse and step into my shoes? You may not have minded, but I would have! How can you even think about tossing your life away like that?"
"John," Sherlock murmured, "come here."
John moved hesitantly towards the bed, standing before the hospitalised boy.
"Closer," John did as he as told and leaned towards Sherlock a little, "closer," he growled. John shivered at the deep rumbling of Sherlock's voice and leaned in so there were barely centimetres between them. Sherlock slowly raised his hand and slapped John across the face.

A/N
I haven't forgotten this!
True, it has been a good few months. But I'm back for the holidays (Kinda sorta maybe I'll try...)
And to celebrate- here's a disgustingly short chapter! YAY!
But in all seriousness I'm working on 13 RIGHT NOW. Expect it within the next day.
Also, I'm going to try to respond to reviews from now on. I don't expect many, but if you really want to, you can. I don't mind either way.
It's good to be back c:
SH