[Sherlock's neck ached, everything ached - and his mind was pivoting from sheer numbness to boiling, volcanic rage as the day repeats - these early morning talks being the only reprieve.

He didn't even protest Moriarty flopping on his bed, or that he's effectively pinned]

Damn that bastard... what is he trying to do that he has to do it in one day?

[The man groans low in the back of his throat]