A/N: Another prompt from doctorcoffeegirl. Thank her for feeding my muse, everyone!

Just after the Cabby affair, and Sherlocks' in that blanket, you could go a little bit OOC and make John worry about if he is in Shock, and if he's okay. I know you already went near here with my ast prompt, but still...
Or Maybe Sherlock genuinly WAS in shock? There is a *world* of possibility.

On with the show!

{][][}

When John first heard that Sherlock was in Shock, his first thoughts were as follows.

Damnit! Did I miss? Did I hit him instead?

Did the killer get away?

Which hospital is he at?

And then he got to the scene he found out Lestrade meant the other kind of shock. The non-deadly kind.

As Sherlock prattled on about some curry place nearby, he walked off, right past Mycroft's car and over to the DI that had informed him. He walked over, face perfectly placid, one eyebrow quirked in a slight show of annoyance. Lestrade stared right back, head cocked in confusion. "What?" He asked, because John kind of looked like he might deck someone right then and there.

"Next time," the ex-army doctor began in a sort of deadly commanding tone. "You tell me Sherlock is in shock, specify which brand of shock you mean, just so I know whether my flatmate is near death is a hospital somewhere. There is a different between and acute stress reaction and circulatory shock." And he walked off without another word.

Lestrade blinked, watching as the consulting detective and lunatic doctor walked off.

{][][}

Some odd hours later, after coming home from the curry place, Sherlock blinked.

He was on the couch, staring up at the ceiling in what John thought to be boredom when he suddenly blinked. His breathing slowed (and when had it quickened in the first place?) and his whole body melted bonelessly into the sofa, leaving it's former tense state. The odd part was, his mind pulled a blank the milisecond he blinked. He couldn't remember the last few hours at all.

"How did I get here?" He mused, near silent as he propped himself up on his elbows. John glanced up, the typing on his laptop stopping.

"What was that?" The blond asked, and Sherlock blinked again. He hadn't been on his blog before. And where was Scotland Yard? The "drug's bust"? What had happened to the case? His hands were starting to shake.

It took a moment for Sherlock to reply; he wasn't used to being so perturbed about anything. "How did I get here?" He repeated, eyes flittering around Baker Street. The thought of two pills and a definite thrill flashed through his mind, but that was all. He looked at the clock. It had been almost five hours. What had happened in those five hours?

John cocked his head to one side, eyebrow raised. "So you lied when you told Lestrade you weren't in shock."

"When?" Sherlock burst, nervous fingers trendinling through his hair. "What happened?" The last part was quieter, much quieter. He didn't like this at all. Who would, having missing patches in your life.

"The cabbie case was solved." John said slowly, keeping firm eye contact. "You've been suffering a case of acute stress reaction sense you left the flat with the cabbie. He tried to make you commit suicide and you watched him get shot, which is probably what caused the shock. You've been going on as normal since then, and told Lestrade you weren't in shock." He chuckled lightly. "Apparently you were. The memory loss is normal and you may or may not get it back."

Sherlock nodded, brow furrowed. He had seen much worse than a man getting shot, and his had been threatened by people numerous times, so there should have been no reason for him to go in to shock. Busy with this thought, he almost didn't notice John was still talking.

"…Actually, you kind of saved my arse." The older man chuckled. "You were in the middle of explaining to Lestrade all the ways it was me when you caught yourself. Told Lestrade to ignore you and that you really were in shock. Glad you did. If you hadn't, even if he was a murderer, I still might have gone to prison for shooting him."

All at once, Sherlock's mind stopped in it's tracks. A rather flooring experience, really. He wasn't used to his mind being blank, even for a moment.

Oh!

That must have been it. A combination of the cabbie getting shot, nearly dying, and prospect of losing John all at once must have caused the shock. There was only one question left though. Why did he care if John stayed or left or went to prison? He certainly never had with anyone before. It was… odd.

He shrugged it off. Probably one of those stupid emotions. I'll have do delete it later.

"Later" never really came.