Hi everyone! This is the first fanfiction I have ever posted. Ever. Period (Where I come from, it's 'full-stop', but whatever). I do have about 2 months of experience though! Hope you like it! It's quite short, but I just wanted to let you all know that I exist :D


Sherlock walked back into 221B Baker Street. There was something wrong. His skin was bright red and he was having trouble breathing.

"John!" He called out.

He heard John reply, and heard him running down the stairs in panic, but Sherlock sprinted to the bathroom, banging into at least two walls.

He felt nauseous and was leaning on to the toilet, but he hadn't eaten anything recently, being in the middle of a case; so not much came up.

Soon enough, John had joined him.

"John, I don't feel so good…" He whined before throwing up stomach acid.

"It'll be OK Sherlock, there's a bit of sickness going around at Scotland Yard, you should get over it sooner or later." Inside, John was very worried. Sherlock Holmes didn't get sick. Ever.

Anxiety got the better of him, and within five minutes he was rooting around in his medical bag for his ear thermometer. He poked it into Sherlock's ear when he had taken a short pause from his vomiting. It returned a temperature of 105 degrees.

Worried by this high reading, John took Sherlock's pulse, finding it abnormally fast. It was suddenly all clear.

"Sherlock, you bloody idiot!"

Sherlock looked up innocently, before having to stick his head back into the toilet, with more nausea on its way.

"What the hell were you thinking? It's the middle of August, for christ's sake, and you've decided to go out in a bloody woolen coat!"

"When I left, it was a bit… nippy."

"Well, I hope it was worth it, because you've gone and gotten yourself a case of heatstroke, and a bad one at that. I'm going to have to take you to hospital!"

"NO! No hospital! Just bring me a bucket and some tea and I'll lie in my bed."

This didn't sound like Sherlock. Sherlock would either be whining that John leave him alone, or insisting that he wasn't sick, and that it was just an unwanted result of one of his experiments.

"Sherlock, tea will only make things worse. You can have a bucket though, and an ice pack. Look, you don't have to go there in an ambulance, but you have to go to hospital otherwise you might die!"

"John, you're a doctor! Just call in a kit from Mycroft and you can treat me here!"

This definitely didn't sound like Sherlock. He would never accept help from Mycroft, even if his life depended on it.

"I worked in Afghanistan. It doesn't get that hot there. I don't know how to treat heatstroke, just how to identify it. Now come on..." He tried to get Sherlock to come along, but, he refused.

"No, I'm really sore and I have a headache!"

"That only proves my point. I'll be back in a minute." John left to gather the equipment he'd need for the cab ride, and then preceded back to the bathroom where he found Sherlock hunched over the toilet, vomiting up more stomach acid.

"Come on Sherlock, we have to go!"

Sherlock didn't even struggle. He attempted to stand up, but he was too weak, so John had to carry him there.

John gave Sherlock the bucket and held the ice pack to his head. After a while, a cab driver that was kind enough to stop for the sick stopped for them.

"St. Bartholomew's hospital, please."

The cab driver sped off, realizing that it was an emergency.

Halfway through the journey, Sherlock blacked out.

"Shit! Excuse me, do you have any water? It's an emergency!"

The driver indicated towards a bottle of water in the front seat, and John reached out and grabbed it. He removed Sherlock's ridiculous coat and drenched one of the sleeves with the water. He moved the ice pack to the back of Sherlock's neck where his own body could hold it in place.

John used the wet sleeve to wet Sherlock's face and the fanned it with his hand. He rang St Barts.

"Excuse me, we're on the way to your hospital right now. In the cab with me I have a patient with heatstroke who has just blacked out. We'll be there in about 10 minutes, but could you please have a wheelchair and someone to see him ready by the time we get there?"

"Yes, certainly sir. I'll see you soon!"

John hung up and continued to nurse Sherlock, who soon woke. It wasn't with a start, but he simply looked up at John and looked at the verge of tears.

The hospital was soon in sight, and John asked the cab driver how much the journey would cost, so he could have the money ready.

"Oh, don't worry sir! The poor man's got heatstroke! I won't charge you."

The cab pulled up right by the entrance, and the team was already outside with a wheelchair, ready to take him in. John waved a cheerful goodbye to the cab driver, before following Sherlock in.

Sherlock shivered whilst lying in a hospital bed with a hospital gown on. He was wearing an oxygen mask. John supervised as they inserted a thermistor probe, nasogastric tube and a Foley catheter. Sherlock definitely disapproved.

Sherlock was going to be in hospital for at least another 48 hours, and would probably be immersed in ice-water at some point, but both Sherlock and John were happy that Sherlock was going to live to complete his case.


Please leave a review if you liked it! XD