[He is damn well going to stand. His body is a transport for his mind, and he will not have it betray him on all the simplest of tasks. Sherlock furrows his brow in concentration and manages to get up to his knees, though even that feels like a Herculean effort. His muscles all seem to be cramping, his body is wracked with chills and sweats alternately, and the dizzying warped perception of reality sometimes has gravity behaving very strangely.
Somehow, against all the odds (and by using Mycroft liberally as a hand hold to pull himself up), Sherlock gets to his feet.
He intends to bark another order about going home, but something changes very abruptly. He can feel it like a switch flipped in his head, making all the lights in his mind palace flicker off, blank and gone. For once in his life his expression is open and terrified, his voice pleading.]
Mycroft...
[His brother's name, that's it, and then he crumples to the floor and begins to seize, the overdose taking its toll on him badly.]
no subject
Somehow, against all the odds (and by using Mycroft liberally as a hand hold to pull himself up), Sherlock gets to his feet.
He intends to bark another order about going home, but something changes very abruptly. He can feel it like a switch flipped in his head, making all the lights in his mind palace flicker off, blank and gone. For once in his life his expression is open and terrified, his voice pleading.]
Mycroft...
[His brother's name, that's it, and then he crumples to the floor and begins to seize, the overdose taking its toll on him badly.]