Sherlock was looking at him. He felt weak and horrible. "Ahh anything." He didn't really care. He was shaking. The detective was shivering. He wasnt used to feeling sick and miserable. He knew even when it happened he didn't get used to it.
He looked to Lestrade. He knew the man was trying to help him feel better.
The detective lay back and tried to relax. He was in pain and he groaned curling up.
Sherlock wasn't finding it easy. He knew Lestrade didn't like seeing him like this either. He was breathing deeply.
Though he knew he was going to need something to do. He couldn't take how long it was going to take him to recover.
Time always wore slowly for Sherlock when he was sick or injured. 
"Ugh I hate this." Sherlock grumbled a bit. He was so sweaty from the pain.