AN: THANK You all for the lovely reviews and amazing prompts, I couldn't do this with ya! :D
Present (Can also kind of go along with the Chapter 20)
"Hullo?" Mycroft answers his persona phone after seeing Dr. Watson flashing on the screen.
"Um, hullo Mycroft," he greets.
"What's the matter?" The older man questions, from the tone of voice that replied.
"I know you're busy and all, but Sherlock's sick…"
Mycroft lets out a breath in relief, "You are a doctor…" he leads.
"Yes, well, I've done what I can," John snaps defensively, "I'm not used to looking after sniffling blanket creatures who plead for death between coughing fits."
"I see…" he drawls.
"Again, I know you're busy, but I've gotta go to work or I'll be sacked and…"
"I doubt that, John." Mycroft interjects.
"Anyway," the doctor sighs, luckily somewhat used to dealing with Holmes's. "If you could come 'round or send one of your people, I'm at my wits end… and I'd ask Mrs. Hudson, but she's off visiting family." He reveals tiredly, "Just make sure the idiot doesn't try to work on a case or leave."
"Very well," he agrees, "I see what I can do."
"Right, brilliant," John exclaims happily, before they ring off.
"Sherlock?" Mycroft calls, stepping cautiously into the dimly lit flat. "Sherlock?"
He hears a groan from the general direction of the couch, his eyes falling upon a lump of blankets on the floor in between the coffee table and the couch itself.
"What on earth are you doing?" He rolls his eyes, stepping around into the 'kitchen' with his parcel.
"I'm dying," Sherlock bemoans, "Leave me in peace."
"There's a difference between dying and illness, brother… or have you forgotten?" Mycroft clicks on the kettle and sets about making tea.
"Why are you here…where's John?"
"He went to work, you know his real job," he jibes.
"Could you murder me, so I do not have to listen to your pompous harping?" Sherlock whines, before a coughing fits strikes him. "I'll even tell you how to make it look like an accident…"
"As if I need your help in covering up incidents," Mycroft smirks superiorly, checking the inside of the mugs to make sure they're clean.
"Mmm…" the younger man groans, "I'd probably have to murder myself, knowing you…" he huffs.
"That's called suicide Sherlock, and I thought you were above such things…"
"I'm dying remember, I suppose I could frame you."
Mycroft shakes his head, striding back into the sitting room with a cup of tea. "Sit up," he orders.
Sherlock complies slowly after a beat, the blanket over his head with his mused hair sticking out and his face even paler than usual. He sniffles loudly as he moves to the couch, tucking his knees up.
"Here," the older man hands him the mug.
"Mint?" Sherlock inquires his sense of smell dulled by the illness.
"Still your favorite… for reasons unknown," he adds with a look of disgust.
"Mint is clean and has curative properties," he murmurs, blowing on the hot liquid, clutched in his hands.
"It tastes like medicine."
"You never answered my question."
"I will not kill you Sherlock, honestly," Mycroft huffs, taking a seat in one of the chairs.
Sherlock pouts a bit, "Not that question."
"I'm here because John was worried you wouldn't stay in and get the rest you clearly need."
"I'm a grown man, I don't need a babysitter... The only place I'm going is the morgue..."
Mycroft gives his brother a bemused look, "Stop being so dramatic, you aren't dying."
"Everything hurts… By body has staged a mutiny."
"What happened to mind over matter, brother?" He rises to retrieve an item from the paper bag he brought. "Your transport has run down."
Sherlock doesn't say anything, just coughs and sips his tea.
As John is leaving work he receives a text from Mycroft saying he was called away, but not to worry. He returns to Baker Street to find Sherlock sound asleep on the couch with some gruesome medical documentary playing quietly in the background, the smell of mint lingering in the air and a bag of sliced brioche open and eaten on the coffee table.
AN: Thank you for the prompts etc! Please keep it up, chances are I'll use it... any and all ideas are welcomed for the brothers, vague or detailed (doesn't matter).
Just don't forget to mention ages and such, since this is random bits of the brothers relationship. (keep in mind they are 7 years apart.)
Also check out the spin off story from Chapter 9 called Seven Percent (THANKS!)
:)REVIEW(:
