"No shit, Sherlock. What tipped you off." He huffs out an exasperated sigh that turns into a hacking cough. By the time it subsides, he feels like he might cry.

"Go find Johnny." He abandons leaning against the door frame in favor of lying back of the floor. Lying down is better. Not much better, but better. The only thing is, lying here is uncomfortable. He thinks fondly of his bed, but disregards the idea of moving immediately. Not possible. "But bring me a pillow first. Pillow. Then Johnny."