Missing scene from Vows Made in Storms.
I opened my eyes slowly, somewhat loathe to leave the comfortable sleep my weary body had taken refuge in.
Then I turned my head and started in surprise. Sherlock Holmes was straddling a chair by my bed, arms folded across the back of it and his chin upon his arm, just sitting there watching me, an uncharacteristically affectionate smile on his face.
"Good afternoon."
"Is it?" I asked sleepily, noticing that the storm of the night had ceased.
"It is indeed. You've slept for a solid nine hours, old fellow."
I sat bolt upright, wincing as I realised how weak I really was. I should have fallen back had Holmes not gently caught me and propped me upright.
"Easy, old chap. What's the matter?"
"Nine hours? Have you been here the whole time?" I asked, clutching at his arm.
"Calm down, Watson. No, when I was certain you really were out of danger I confess I took to my bed as well," he replied gently, "I've only been here for the last hour or so."
"Good," I sighed, settling back under his care and smiling up at him.
My friend's face was filled with something akin to wonder, as if he could still scarcely believe his success in curing me, as he sat beside me on the edge of the bunk.