Sherlock was still wondering what to do when the bathroom door opened once more. John had rinsed the dirt from his face and hands, causing blood to ooze slowly from the many cuts and grazes.
"Sorry, I… I just needed a minute. I'm gonna shower…"
"Right. I'll let you…." His voice trailed off as he found himself staring at John's hand, stretched out towards him.
"Join me?"
Excitement fluttering like a captive butterfly in his stomach, Sherlock stepped into the room and closed the door behind him.
John had stepped back to turn on the shower, then he turned once more to face him, his hands moving to the buttons on the younger man's shirt.
Slowly, and in silence they uncovered each other's bodies, hands pushing cloth away to explore warm flesh, finally stepping into the shower.
As if of long experience they gently lathered each other, Sherlock taking care to clean John's grazes without causing more pain while John leaned tiredly into the gentle hands, his head resting against Sherlock's chest and his hands grasping slender hips, fingertips stoking lazy circles.
At last they just stood under the water spray, and Sherlock felt John's lips curve into a smile as they stood, entwined and still like a statue in the rain.
"You need rest." Sherlock said finally. "Come to bed."