It was nearly 7 'o'clock in the morning when John finally let himself collapse into bed, satisfied that he'd done all he could for now.
Sherlock was sleeping, and John would have to grab his own rest when he could get it. He would call in to work and tell them he wouldn't be able to make it, and then he'd probably spend the next few days homebound, caring for the stricken consulting detective.
What a relaxing holiday.
He sighed and settled in, and within just a minute or so he had drifted off the cushy, precipitous cliff of sleep.
It felt as if it were barely a few seconds later that he was woken by the blaring voice of a car alarm somewhere down on the street.
Damn it...
He groaned and glanced over at his alarm clock, which was now silently screaming 12:14 PM in all orange neon.
Okay... He'd really slept in...
Still tired...
John reached up and dragged a hand across his face. He lay there for a while before he finally sat up and swung his legs off the side of the bed.
That car alarm was still at it...
He pulled on a jumper and a fresh pair of trousers before making his way down to the living room.
"Sherlock? You awake?" He honestly wasn't sure, considering that the detective was lying face down on the sofa, with several cushions pulled over his head and a blanket draped over it all.
But as he spoke Sherlock moved slightly, if only to tense and shift away a bit.
John frowned. "Sherlock?"
Sherlock's voice came to him, very muffled and still thick-sounding. "SHHH."
"What?"
"Quiet. Don't... make a... sound..."
John bit his lip and came closer, making sure to tiptoe as best he could. He lowered his voice to a near-whisper. "Have you got a headache, then?"
"Shh..."
He supposed that would be a yes.
Understandable.
That car alarm must be proper hell for him like this.
"I'll get you a painkiller. I think we still have a couple left over..." John stepped back as Sherlock groaned quietly, though whether in agreement or pain, he couldn't tell. "Sorry. Be right back, then."