[John's just starting to wonder if he'll need to grab for the gun in his waistband to emphasize that snack time is over when the fangs retract from his skin, stinging more on the way out then on the way in. Then there's an awkward moment of just Sherlock's mouth on his skin, licking up the last traces before he pulls away.
Which jostles John's position slumped half against it so he glares as much as he's able to with things being so soft-focus and digs his free hand into the sleeve of the vampire's coat for balance.]
Dunno what you're talking about.
[He's definitely human. The sluggish way his pulse is echoing in his ears is proof enough of that. He feels shaky, unsteady. Pretty damn fragile. Hypovolemic shock the medic inside reminds him. You're going to need to heal some of that before you go tachy. Which...yeah. Would not be good. Okay.]
Don't let me fall on the ground.
[He gives the warning with as much sternness as he can muster, seeing that his mouth doesn't seem to want to form words. Honestly, he's not sure how much the other man is taking in right now. He seems drunk quite frankly, and do all vampires react the same way to a pint or two of blood as a normal person would react to a pint of beer?
Either way, getting a concussion on top of going into shock is the opposite of what John needs right now, so he hopes a drunk Sherlock is at least as competent at being a support system as the brick wall.
Focusing on the same spark of healing he discovered on the day he got shot, John coaxes it into a brighter flame, a warm glow of healing that travels through depleted cells, replenishing and restoring. It's harder to do on himself than when he's working from the outside on someone else's injuries. He manages to pull himself out of tachycardia and replace some of the lost fluids before exhaustion pulls him out of the healing and back to the alley where he's no longer supporting his weight at all.]
no subject
Which jostles John's position slumped half against it so he glares as much as he's able to with things being so soft-focus and digs his free hand into the sleeve of the vampire's coat for balance.]
Dunno what you're talking about.
[He's definitely human. The sluggish way his pulse is echoing in his ears is proof enough of that. He feels shaky, unsteady. Pretty damn fragile. Hypovolemic shock the medic inside reminds him. You're going to need to heal some of that before you go tachy. Which...yeah. Would not be good. Okay.]
Don't let me fall on the ground.
[He gives the warning with as much sternness as he can muster, seeing that his mouth doesn't seem to want to form words. Honestly, he's not sure how much the other man is taking in right now. He seems drunk quite frankly, and do all vampires react the same way to a pint or two of blood as a normal person would react to a pint of beer?
Either way, getting a concussion on top of going into shock is the opposite of what John needs right now, so he hopes a drunk Sherlock is at least as competent at being a support system as the brick wall.
Focusing on the same spark of healing he discovered on the day he got shot, John coaxes it into a brighter flame, a warm glow of healing that travels through depleted cells, replenishing and restoring. It's harder to do on himself than when he's working from the outside on someone else's injuries. He manages to pull himself out of tachycardia and replace some of the lost fluids before exhaustion pulls him out of the healing and back to the alley where he's no longer supporting his weight at all.]