Babysitting
Mycroft had never been very fond of Sherlock's friends. Come to think he wasn't always very fond of Sherlock. Needless to say he was sick and tired of his little brother running off, getting himself and others injured, and inevitably sending said injured parties to recover with him. That's why just that once Mycroft had decided to go with his brother on one of his excursions. He hadn't been the same since.
"Mycroft, are you awake?" Sherlock whispered poking his head into the bedroom. Oh, sod off Sherly… he thought.
All he had done since their return was sleep and work. He could barely even eat any more, something Sherlock had actually tried to get him to cut back on given his formerly generous weight but neither brother ever thought it would really happen.
"Get up Mycroft! Honestly, if you're going to play dead you can at least be productive doing it." Always the drama queen, Sherlock was focused only on convenience.
"You're going to visit Miss Althea today. The least you could do is dress yourself." Sherlock grumbled under his breathe. Ordinarily Mycroft would've fought him tooth and nail before having his little brother send him off anywhere. This however was not ordinary, he quite simply didn't care.
The older man buried his face in his pillow and sighed, "To who and why are you sending me brother?"
"You remember Althea Elliot. Friend of Watson's family," Sherlock said trying to pack his brothers bag and keep the conversation going, "Psychiatrist. A good one at that. As for why, I have business to attend to and I must leave the country to do so" Mycroft cringed, after the last excursion he loathed the idea of his little brother doing anything of the sort again, "And you won't take care of yourself if I'm gone."
Lovely, he thought, I'm being sent to a stranger in Scotland, a hick too no doubt, to be babysat.