Sherlock waited impatiently by John's bedside for him to wake up.

It was ages.

Then he waited for him to be extubated after he regained consciousness.

Again, ages.

Then he waited for John to wake up after what he claimed would be a short nap.

(It was ages.)

Finally, finally, John was conscious, relatively lucid, and able to speak.

"Don't ever do that to me again!" he scolded.

John only looked confused. "What?"

"Get shot in the heart." Sherlock rolled his eyes. "Frankly, it's miraculous you're still alive, getting shot like that."

John still looked perplexed. "But..."

"No buts John. Just quit getting shot in general, and all will be well."

Finally, John's face lit up with realization. Grinning, he pushed the call button, then the button that supplied pain medication.

"Lestrade will be doing the drug busts on you next," Sherlock quipped.

John half smiled, half grimaced.

"I'm sure."

A nurse entered the room.

"Oh, John, you're awake!" She sounded pleased.

John nodded sleepily.

"Shall I give them to him now?" the nurse asked John.

He grinned. "Sure."

Sherlock frowned. "Give me what?"

John only grinned wider. "A present!" he declared, the effects of the painkillers already evident in his voice. He was getting close to drifting off again.

The nurse returned with an envelope.

She pulled translucent black and white sheets from them and stuck them on the lightboard at the side of the room.

"His x-rays. There was a standing order to not give them to you until he regained consciousness," she explained.

Sherlock stepped towards them, and the nurse left without another word. He flicked the light on and frowned at what he saw.

There was the outline of a heart, a collapsed lung, and damage from a bullet wound, but it was all wrong.

"The x-ray is backwards," he said.

John shook his head, grinning stupidly, high on painkillers.

"Nope..." he slurred, again close to falling asleep.

Sherlock pondered that as John drifted off.

"Oh!" he gasped, finally understanding. "Oh!" He clasped his hands together under his chin. "That is fantastic!"

He grinned at John's sleeping form in the bed.

He spun around a little, reclasping his hands when he was finished.

"That's what 'verse' meant. Reversed. Oh, this is absolutely brilliant."

Sherlock grinned wider and threw himself into the chair at John's bedside, waiting for him to wake up so he could share his discovery.

"You are ridiculous," Sherlock announced, as soon as John was conscious enough to maintain the memory as well as understand what it meant.

John only curved half his mouth into a smile.

"I have to keep some things a secret. For a while anyways."

Sherlock rolled his eyes. "Please. You could have died. It would have been extremely useful to know."

"Oh, right, like how you should have told me you're allergic to bees? Yes, I see what you're saying."

"Situs inversus totalis," Sherlock declared, rather like a kindergartener who's just learned his address.

John clapped slowly for Sherlock. "Bravo!" he declared weakly.

Sherlock rolled his eyes. "This explains how you survived. Had your heart been on the left side of your chest as it's expected to be, you'd be dead right now." Sherlock admired the advantageous difference. "It explains why you didn't bleed so much, and how you stayed conscious for so long at the scene." He beamed. "Because it was only a shot to the lung, not to the heart."

He paused, examining the x-rays again.

"Brilliant," he declared breathlessly.

"Eloquent as ever," John noted dryly.

"I have so many experiments to try!"

John groaned. "And that right there is the other reason why I didn't tell you." He rolled over slightly away from Sherlock.

"It won't be anything invasive. Or until you're completely recovered. John? Please. John? John?"

And John only smirked to himself. He would be using this to his advantage.