Raven
Sherlock leaned against his Watson, holding onto the doctor close, safe. They were back, together again.
"John… I don't feel well," came the whipped from the consulting detective. John nodded, running a hand through Sherlocks raven curls. Mycroft joined them, an arm finding its way around his younger sibling.
"My, somethings wrong…" Mycroft tried in vain to hide the panic in his face, nodding to John.
"OK… Let me see what we have here," gently he sat Sherlock on the ground of the runway, looking him over. Gently, without pressure John looked his friend over, touching softly, God he hoped he wasn't hurting him. Sherlock for his part leaned into Mycroft's chest, trying to fight the dizziness coming to him.
"Its just the flu, right?" Sherlock forced himself up, trying to regain balance. Bad idea, he sagged against Mycroft again. John remained neutral, and flashed a look at Mycroft, mouthing 'We need to go to the hospital'.
/
"Its th flu, right?"
"No, no, love its not…" John whispered, putting a had to his lower abdomen.
"OK… What then?" Sherlock tried to sound tough, but his head was killing him and his insides felt like a five alarm fire.
"Just hang in there, everythings OK…" John tried to sty calm, but he knew they might end up in an operating room, again.
Mary, Anderson, Lestrade, and Donnovan were all waiting at the rooftop. Lestrde attempted to stay cam for his partner's sake, Mycroft was his whole world.
"Give him fluids, and a CT scan of the lower abdomen. I suspevt appendicitis but we have to be sure," everyone followed John except for Mycroft who, without even Lestrade seeing slipped away, an ocean of tears streaming onto his satin suite.