Sherlock’s jaw clenched tightly, his eyelids falling. He bit his lip ‘til blood before attempting to speak again. “S—said-hurts.” The pain was spreading down the back of his neck now, most of it still focused in his head. “Head.” he managed.
The man felt his head hit the pillow again and another short sob escaped from the back of his throat. This wasn’t like him.
Head? What was that supposed to mean? Whatever it was, it concerned Greg a lot, and he was out of bed at once, phone clenched between the side of his head and his shoulder as he put on his trousers.
'Head?' he repeated as he clumsily swayed on one foot as his other got stuck in his trousers. 'Headache?'
He finally managed to get his leg through and the rest of his trousers on, pulling a shirt from his wardrobe and pulling it over his head. 'What do you need me to do?' he asked as he quickly put on his socks and trainers.
