Sherlock was glad to be at home on his couch. He noticed Mrs Hudson had gone to make tea. He hadn't asked her directly. He hadn't really been sure if she was nearby or not. He though was happy somebody was making him tea.
The detective wanted to curl up in blankets, but he hadn't left any nearby, However he knew that he would be going to bed soon. He rubbed his eyes a bit and sipped his tea. It always made him feel better after a hard day.

He looked at the bisciuts, anything else right now and he would refuse. He always claimed food slowed him down. He rubbed his eyes again and eats a couple of biscuits. He was so tired he almost dropped his cup and plate.
He wondered if Lestrade would stay the night to look after him like when he had the flu, He knew left to his own devices he wouldn't stay in bed. He was sometimes too much for Mrs Hudson there. He yawned.
The detective knew he had to wait for Lestrade to get him to his bed. Normally Sherlock woul have a shower before bed. But he was too tired and sore to even want to. Moriarty had really beaten him up badly.