A/N: Hello, people!

I don't own Sherlock.

I have no beta.

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-I HAVE A COLD AND I'M KNOCKED UP WITH MEDICINE SO I COULDN'T MENTION
THE PHOTOS RIGHT NOW 'CAUSE I WANT THEM TO BE SEXY AND MY BRAIN IS SO
EFFED UP, I'M FORGETTING EVERYTHING TODAY. SORRY.

18 December 2015, Friday:

Using Mycroft to ensure that John could stay in the hospital with Sherlock all night was easy. Some guilt tripping and his brother - who claimed that 'caring is not an advantage' - caved within seconds. It could also be because he partially blamed himself for Sherlock having gotten shot, but that was neither here nor there. Sherlock won that round and that was all there was to it.

He learned that they were back in London and that Mycroft was prepping the flat for his return. He had installed a ramp on the stairs and had it carpeted to help with traction against the wheelchair. Sherlock was not allowed to walk because he'd been hit so low in the abdomen and abnormal stretching of his lower limbs wouldn't be prudent.

However, since John was the one who would be tending to him - which was what allowed Sherlock to go home early in the first place - he couldn't mind all that much.

And what perked him up the most was the fact that he had several days worth of photographs of John to see. Of course he was going home late at night and it might actually be early the next morning when he got around to it, but he was still holding onto that hope.

"You won't be doing any walking for a few days," stated John.

Sherlock huffed petulantly because this cut into all of the plans he has formulated over their small holiday in Belgium. He wanted to take John ice skating. He knew John had had an interest in it and he wanted to see if the doctor had good posture and balance while on ice skates or not.

Since he wasn't allowed to walk, he most certainly wasn't going to be allowed to ice skate and that was a downer.

Sherlock pouted childishly, putting anyone under the age of ten to shame. Of course it was difficult when John was being so bloody kind and caring. John really didn't like all of the negativity that people brought into the holiday season, so Sherlock struggled with keeping a more positive attitude because he didn't want to ruin John's holiday. He had spectacularly ruined the former two and he wasn't going to be the reason the holiday this year went tits up.

"It's okay Sherlock," assured John. "I get to stay home and take care of you until you're allowed to move around on your own!"

No days at the clinic!

Suddenly, his confinement to 221B wasn't as bad as it seemed.

Lestrade was there to welcome them back along with Mrs. Hudson. He had brought several cold case files for Sherlock to dig through so his brain could have some worthwhile exercise while his body was on bed rest. Sherlock had to stifle the gratitude he felt because he couldn't afford to let the emotion show too much. He was supposed to be a sociopath for God's sake!

The warm pat on the back he got from the silver-haired detective inspector told him that he didn't stifle as well as he thought. Blast!

Mrs. Hudson did make her special Christmas biscuits as a welcome back present so he couldn't be too annoyed. She patted their faces and told them to be good, before returning to her flat, humming some Christmas Carol he remembered form his childhood.

"Sherlock, you'll have to eat to keep your strength up, you do realise?" John asked, giving him the Look.

Yes. The Look.

Sherlock sighed, "I know. But that does not mean I have to like it." he would do the exact opposite in fact.

"Rightly so," grinned John as he traipsed out to the kitchen. "Tea?"

"Yes, thank you."

Sherlock leaned over in his wheelchair and grabbed John's laptop that had been gathering dust while they were gone. He accepted the small sandwich and cup of tea with dignity and relinquished John's possession, knowing he wanted to blog about the latest drama.

What Sherlock wanted most, was to see John's Advent Calendar. It'd been so long!

"Wait until tomorrow, Sherlock," John said. "It's only a few hours away and you'll have one extra surprise waiting for you if you do."

Reluctantly, Sherlock allowed himself to calm down.

He could do this.

Breathe in. Breathe out.

John's fond smile helped him keep calm.

A/N: Another is done!

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