Sherlock ignored him, and peeked out of his arm to see him tired. "Go back to bed, John. I'm fine." He muttered. He didn't want John to suffer because of this idiot thing that was happening to him. He was tired of it himself. "I think I'll go stay with Mycroft for awhile." He said quietly, feeling a bit of actually disgust enter his clouded mind. He still didn't like his brother, but John was tired. And he'd done plenty for Sherlock, and he needed to [i]rest[/i]. Sherlock could stay up for days and days on end, but John was a normal human - he needed rest. "You need some time off from me, John, alright? Your tired, and you've been looking after me far long enough, and I'm... I apologize." He wasn't bitter at all, in fact he was more gentle than anything else. "I can't even ask my best friend to put up with me being bored and immobile for this long. But I can easily put my brother through it." He said, with a small smile.