Sherlock was looking at her. He was about to answer when he saw that she already found his keys. He wasn't sure why she had bothered asking him if she was going to find them by herself anyways.
He wasn't really wanting her to help. But was too tired to even protest. He had a feeling she wasn't going to leave until he ate something. He looked around the room. He was trying to keep himself upright.

"My bedroom is that way." He pointed. He sounded lazy and tired. He wasn't used to having to admit he needed food and rest. He closed his eyes. "Yeah ok." He knew he should get something to drink as well.
He was shaking from his weakness. He flopped onto the chair "Or the chair will do."
The detective closed his eyes and tried to just relax.
"Yeah.....," he knew he had no energy to get up.