Sherlock scoffed. How was he supposed to 'be human'? He never had been human, and he never will be human. He had no idea why mortals thought or felt or act like they do.

That was about the worst advice that Fates could have given him. The man was worthless, and he wondered sometimes why he even counted Greg among his very few friends. He was a lot more tolerable than most, and that was no small feat, but when it came to advice or help, he was pretty much pants at alt.

He sighed and settled into a chair that he pulled next to the bed. There was nothing to do but wait until John came to now. No telling how long that might take.