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Mycroft couldn't stop thinking about his little brother as he was driving down to Sherlock's school.
"Sherlock, please do not be sick," muttered Mycroft, "Please, please, please."
He kept on praying until he reached the school. Mycroft did a speed walk to the office.
"I'm here to pick up Sherlock Holmes," Mycroft told the secretary.
"He's in the nurse's office," said the secretary pointing to her right, "Right over there."
Mycroft went into the nurse's office and saw Sherlock fast asleep on the small bed. He almost chuckled at the sight. Sherlock was curled up with his mouth slightly open, looking all innocent. Eventhough, he isn't really. The nurse put her finger to her lips.
"He fell asleep five minutes ago," whispered the nurse.
"Thank you," Mycroft whispered back, picking up his sleeping brother, "I'll make sure he gets plenty of rest."
Mycroft quickly got Sherlock out to the car and started driving. When he got on the highway, Sherlock started to stir.
"My-Mycroft," Sherlock slurred, "What are you doing?"
"I'm taking you home," said Mycroft stealing a quick look at his brother.
Sherlock starts to remember what had happened and groaned.
"You alright?" Mycroft asked with concern.
"I'm fine," said Sherlock putting his head on the window, "Just a headache."
Mycroft 'hmm'ed thoughtfully.
"Anything else?" Mycroft asked.
"My throat hurts," Sherlock replies, "I also feel like I'm going to cough."
Mycroft felt sorry for little Sherlock. He almost never feels sorry for his brother. Sherlock must be sick if Mycroft feels sorry for him. Mycroft only sighs. The rest of the drive was so silent that you could hear a pen drop. When they got back to the house, Mycroft gently took Sherlock out of the car and brought him inside. Once inside, he sets his little brother on the couch. He brings out a heavy blanket, a pillow, and Sherlock's baby blanket. Sherlock snuggles with his blanket and makes a burrow with the heavy blanket and pillow. Mycroft chuckles a little at the sight and then proceeds to feel Sherlock's forehead, which Sherlock doesn't approve of and moves away from him.
"You know it gets really annoying when people touch your forehead when they don't need to," snapped Sherlock.
"Well, when you're sick, I'm suppose to check your temperature," said Mycroft, "I don't want to end up taking you to the hospital and I know you don't want me to do that so just bear with me for a few days. Alright, Sherlock?"
Sherlock sighed with annoyance.
"Fine," he grumbled with his arms crossed, "Take my stupid temperature."
Mycroft gave a small smile, happy that his little brother was now cooperating with him, and went up to fetch the thermometer. Once in his possession, Mycroft comes back down and sticks the thermometer under Sherlock's tongue. Sherlock rolls his eyes and sighs.
"Now we wait for it to beep," said Mycroft, "Don't try anything."
Sherlock sighs again but keeps the thermometer in his mouth. After a few minutes, the thermometer finally beeps. Mycroft takes it out and looks at it.
"It seems like its going to be a steady fever," said Mycroft, "I don't think your fever will reach any higher than 101.6."
"That's good, right?" Sherlock asked.
"Yes its very good," said Mycroft, "But, lets not jinx it."
Sherlock nodded fast, not wanting his fever to get any higher then it already is.
"Crud, I forgot," said Mycroft slapping his forehead, "You need to change into your pajamas."
Then, Mycroft picked up Sherlock and started up the stairs. Sherlock laid his head on Mycroft's shoulder. The older Holmes hugs the younger just a little bit tighter. Once in Sherlock's room, Mycroft put Sherlock on his bed and went over to the dresser. He grabs Sherlock's grey t-shirt, thin black pajama bottoms, and a pair of thin ankle socks. Mycroft tosses them over to Sherlock, who was taking off his shirt.
"Put those on for me please," said Mycroft turning his back so Sherlock can change.
Sherlock quickly changed into his clothes. Once he was done, Sherlock told him he was ready in a hoarse voice. Mycroft brought him back downstairs and set Sherlock back on his burrow of blankets.
"Do you want anything to eat?" Mycroft asked.
Sherlock shook his head 'no'.
"How about a glass of juice?" Mycroft asked again.
Sherlock shrugged this time.
"I'll take that as a yes," said Mycroft heading into the kitchen.
Mycroft made a glass of orange juice and set it on the table in front of Sherlock.
"I'm going to make some chicken and rice for dinner," said Mycroft heading back into the kitchen, "And I expect you to eat at least some of it."
Sherlock knew that the tone in Mycroft's voice was not something to mess with so he nodded.
"Can I go work with my experiments?" Sherlock asked.
"No," Mycroft replied taking out the necessary ingredients for the meal, "You need to rest."
"But Mycroft," Sherlock whined.
"I said no Sherlock," said Mycroft.
Mycroft knew after that today is going to be a long day.