Sherlock was sprawled out on his bed, frowning at his older brother. Mycroft, feeling much like a nagging mother, stood over him with his hands on his hips.

"Come on Sherlock."

Sherlock pulled a pillow over his head and whined in a scratchy voice. "No."

"Sherlock."

"No."

"Sherlock!" Mycroft snapped and then relented when Sherlock lowered the pillow and peered up at him with his steely blue eyes. He coughed violently and his thin frame shook. "Sherlock, you must take some medicine." The pillow went back over Sherlock's face and Mycroft sighed.

Sherlock, skinny as a twig, was swimming in his light blue cotton pajamas and rolled up the sleeves impatiently. "I've already told you Mycroft! I don't want medicine. I don't know what it's going to do to me."

Mycroft rolled his eyes. "It'll make you better. It seems like just a cold now, but it's flu season and it might get worse."

"It's not the flu."

"It might be and I don't want to get sick Sherlock so do us both a favor and take it." Mycroft proffered his open hand, which held a little white pill, and Sherlock reluctantly took it.

"Good boy Sherlock. I'll go get you some water to swallow it with."

Mycroft left the room and went to the kitchens where he asked the maid Abby to fetch him a glass of water. When he was outside Sherlock's room he heard coughing and opened the door without knocking. The sight of Sherlock at his workstation inspecting his microscope greeted him.

Mycroft walked over and scrutinized the scene. "Sherlock! Is that the pill?"

The slide Sherlock examined was of a white powder and Mycroft spotted Sherlock's mortar and pestle sitting suspiciously close by. Mycroft slid the microscope away from his younger brother and Sherlock looked up indignantly.

"I was working! Give it back!" Sherlock pulled it back but Mycroft had his attention.

"I'm going to go get another pill and you're going to lay down and when I come back you're going to take it." Once again Mycroft felt like a mother and shook his head on the way out.

When he returned with the pill Sherlock was still at his workstation. "Take it."

Sherlock shook his head. "I don't need it anyways. I'm fine." His declaration was interrupted by a sniff and when he reached up to wipe his nose his sleeves fell loose over his hands. He pulled them up angrily and glared at Mycroft as if the whole thing was his fault. "Go away. I have work to do."

"Fine! Fine Sherlock. Do what you want. I really don't care." He set the other pill down at the edge of Sherlock's desk and walked out of the room.

Author's Note: More chapters are coming!