Author's Note: Hey everybody! I hope that you are doing well! Thank you to everyone who is taking the time to read this and maybe review...*cough* Sorry, had something stuck in my throat. I'm better now.

The medical stuff that follows was Googled, thus don't kill me if it is wrong. I hope to be a doctor one day, but at present I am only a tenth grader.

So without further ado...

Sherlock was at his wit's end. He just couldn't take it anymore. He needed help.

Taking a deep, defeated breath, he called, "Elizabeth!"

He heard her footsteps coming down the stairs a moment later. Sherlock noticed that her footfalls seemed a little heavy. Perhaps he'd woken her up.

"Yeah, Dad?" Elizabeth cleared her throat. Yep, he'd probably woken her up.

"I need your help with something," Sherlock said.

"Ooh, bet that hurt," Elizabeth quipped, sitting down next to her father. Sherlock ruffled her hair playfully. When he pulled his hand away, he felt a heat about her face. Sherlock frowned and placed his cool hand against his daughter's forehead.

"Do you have a temperature?" Sherlock knew that Elizabeth was too warm.

"I'm fine," Elizabeth pushed his hand away. "I was wrapped up in that wool blanket Mrs. Hudson knitted two Christmases ago. What do you need help with?" Sherlock didn't miss the changing of the subject, but he let it go for the moment.

"What it Supernatural?" Sherlock asked.

"What?" Elizabeth wasn't sure if she'd heard right. Sherlock brought up the Netflix and clicked on the show. "Oh, that Supernatural! It's a show about two brothers that kill demons for a living. Why do you need to know?"

"The case with the woman that was pinned to the ceiling and burned, remember it?"

"Yeah, John called it 'The Adventure of the Darlings'. He referenced Peter Pan, but I guess it is kind of like Mary Winchester and Jess' deaths on Supernatural," Elizabeth said.

"Which episode is that?" Elizabeth took the remote from her father and played the Pilot.

Seven episodes later, and Sherlock was exasperated, "What is this? How can you watch it?"

"I like it!" Elizabeth defended. "Besides you're one to talk. You were cheering Sam and Dean on too!"

John came in an hour later. He walked in one the Holmeses having an argument about who was more amazing: Sam or Dean.

"Sam, obviously," John cut in, taking Elizabeth's side. Sherlock just rolled his eyes.

"In his defense, he hasn't met Castiel yet," Elizabeth said.

"True," John allowed. He went into the kitchen and started rifling through the fridge. He pulled out a bag of toes and dropped them onto the table. "What do you want for dinner, Elizabeth?"

"I'm not hungry," Elizabeth pulled a blue blanket from off the floor and curled up on the sofa with it. She scrunched herself up into a little, cozy ball and turned the TV over to White Collar.

After taking a decaying foot out of the microwave, John heated a bowl of pasta.

"Are you sure you aren't hungry, Liz?" After watching the Blacklist, John had started to shorten Elizabeth's name in several creative ways. "I heated some pasta."

Elizabeth's face soured, "No, thanks." At her refusal, John peeked into the living room. Elizabeth looked a little flushed, and her voice was a tad scratchy.

"Are you coming down with something?" John entered the room and felt Elizabeth's forehead. "I think you've got a temperature." John went off to fetch the thermometer.

"Told you," Sherlock got up from the sofa and stretched Elizabeth out into a more comfortable position.

"I'm fine," Elizabeth repeated stubbornly. Still, she allowed John to take her temperature.

"Goodness!" John exclaimed as he took the thermometer out. "You do have a temperature! Do you feel like you're going to be sick?"

"No, I feel fine," Elizabeth insisted.

"Don't lie," Sherlock scolded gently. "John can't help you if you aren't honest."

"Alright," Elizabeth sighed. "I've had a temperature for the past three days. I-" She broke off as she began to cough. She rolled into a ball and buried her face in her arms, muffling the sounds of her hacking. Sherlock rubbed her back soothingly until she could draw a full breath again.

"How long has it been since you've eaten?" John asked, thinking of how Elizabeth wasn't hungry.

"Um..."

"Elizabeth, how long?" Sherlock pressed.

"A day or so," Elizabeth admitted, shivering.

"Let's see," John deliberated. "Loss of appetite, coughing, temperature, chills. I'll wager you've got a sharp pain in your chest, especially after you cough. Maybe fatigue as well?"

Elizabeth nodded sheepishly.

John sighed, "Alright then. My diagnosis would be pneumonia. Your symptoms fit, and it hasn't gone away after a few days. I want you to take the medicine I bring you and go to sleep. No moving around until you can do ten push-ups without wheezing."

"Oh, come on, John," Elizabeth pleaded. "I'm fine!" Her statement might have been feasible, if she hadn't broken into another coughing fit. John just shook his head and handed her two pills to swallow. Elizabeth obeyed, having given up on convincing them she was fine.

"If you feel any worse, Liz, you have to tell me," John ordered. "I'm sure you don't want to have to go to the hospital."

"Fine," Elizabeth sighed. She curled up in her little ball again and soon was fast asleep.

Sherlock shut off the Netflix, and he and John moved into the kitchen to talk.

Shutting the door behind him, John exclaimed, "How can we not have noticed her getting this sick? I'm a bloody doctor!"

"You were in Dublin until this morning," Sherlock reminded him. "I should have noticed."

"She was obviously trying to hide it though," John remarked. "She's good at keeping secrets, just like you."

"I wish she wouldn't try to hide her illnesses and injuries," Sherlock cried. "I don't understand why she does it!"

John looked at his friend, "You really don't get it?" Sherlock just shrugged. "Sherlock, she hides these kinds of things because she doesn't like to show weakness. All she sees is you running around not needing food or sleep, and it makes her feel very human when she can't operate like you can. She doesn't want to disappoint you."

"I'm not disappointed if she's sick!" Sherlock could not see the logic in his daughter's thoughts.

"Let me rephrase it," John said. "If you were ill, would you want everyone to know? No, you wouldn't. And do you know why? Because people would tell you to stay home. They would tell you to rest up and leave catching killers to them. That's why you hide illness. You wouldn't want everyone to know that you weren't operating at your best. See?"

Sherlock nodded. He did understand.

The men re-entered the living room to see Elizabeth awake and watching Supernatural.

"I thought I told you to go to sleep," John chastised.

"After this episode," Elizabeth negotiated. "Sam and Dean are about to gank the vampire."

True to her word, Elizabeth fell asleep after that episode.

But that didn't stop John and Sherlock from binge-watching all of season five.