John Watson was one in a thousand, in a million. Most people would never put up with Sherlock, they could barely even stand to spend ten minutes in the same room as him, but John followed on his coattails as if he truly wanted to be there. He might not be the biggest asset when it came to deduction, his brain was just as ordinary as the next man, but he was an excellent lightning rod for creativity and an often oddly comforting presence.

Which is why Sherlock waited for him to get his clothes on before dashing off, choosing instead to dress himself in his customary suit and Belstaff coat.

Only once John had emerged from his room did Sherlock head for the door, perky despite both of their head injuries.

"Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more; Or close the wall up with our English dead."