John took his clothes and asked everyone to leave. After changing, they were let back in to finish his discharge papers.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
John sighed quietly as he sat up, holding onto Lestrade as he shakily stood up. His body was still sore, and he could barely even walk. Greg helped him to his car and let him in the back seat, Sherlock sitting in the front. Greg drove off, taking them back to Baker Street.
During the drive, John looked out the window, leaning a bit so his weight was on his hip rather than his bottom; which was still hurting and sore.
Sherlock glanced at him in the rearview mirror, sighing quietly. He was...actually worried. He was worried for his friend. And not just his only friend; his best friend.
Once they got there, Lestrade got out and helped John to reach the stairs and hold onto the railings. John thanked him silently and made his way upstairs silently.
Sherlock looked over at Lestrade, frowning slightly. "You know, don't you." he asked quietly.
Lestrade looked at John walk up, then turned to Sherlock. "Wha--"
"You. Know." he interrupted. "That's why you stayed with him. Why can't you just do your own work and let me take care of him?" he asked.
Lestrade opened his mouth as if to speak, then closed it and sighed. The older man was too tired to argue with him. So he just gave him a glare before leaving.