Sherlock was barely able to lift his head. He nodded once, weakly, watching the still naked John walk out of the room.

The whole room seemed to be spinning, he still felt like he was on fire, even though his breath had slowly settled into an almost normal rhythm.

When John came back, he let the man help him roll over and sit up a bit. He took a few sips of water, licking his parched lips.

"I... dreamed.. of fire.." He said... softly, nervous to admit such a strange thing.