[John had been moving along as fast as he could with his gaze firmly set on the ground a few steps ahead of him, as if this could help him escape the shade that had been tormenting him since the start of the day.

When someone - or something - seized his arm, he took in a sharp breath and pivoted defensively, though it wasn't quite enough to completely loosen the grip on his arm. The surge of adrenaline began to subside when he saw that it was Sherlock.]

Since this morning, just before breakfast. You were right, Sherlock, too damned right. I should have listened closer... should have taken it as a warning instead of thinking you had a bloody fever.