It seemed, to Sherlock that is, that the moment everyone heard that John was awake they all decided to bombard his husband and ask him a bunch of stupid questions that were always repeated.
'How do you feel?'
'Do you feel alright?'
'What do the Doctor's say about when you can leave the hospital?'
'Is there going to be any lasting effects?'
'What do the Army say about your injuries?'
'Do you want me to pop around to make sure that you're alright?'
The last one particularly annoyed Sherlock. Every time it was said it drove home a feeling that Sherlock didn't know how to name. What annoyed him the most about that question was the lingering belief that Sherlock was too caught up in his own little world that he wouldn't be able to look after his husband. That he would get caught up in an experiment or be working a case and wouldn't know if John accidently slipped in the shower and knocked himself unconscious.
What did it for him was the look that John's parents sent him, he held his tongue – until they all walked out into the hallway and Sherlock told them what he thought of their perceptions of his caring abilities.
'You know,' John said slowly when Sherlock returned. 'You didn't have to be so blunt.'
