Sherrinford takes Sherlock by the waist and steps forward, but Sherlock doesn't move. "You have to walk if I'm going to be your support."

"I am walking." Sherlock insists.

"No, you haven't moved." Sherrinford lifts Sherlock to gain a better grip. "Come on." He nudges the back of one of Sherlock's legs and he steps forward only for the leg to buckle, almost dragging both of them to the sidewalk. Sherrinford catches his balance and picks Sherlock up bridal style. "Careful now. I've got you." Sherrinford carries Sherlock into the hotel lobby and sets him down in one of the chairs by the decorative fireplace. "I need you to open your eyes and look at me."

"My eyes are open Sherri." Sherlock's head slumps sideways but his eyes remain closed.

"No. They're not." Sherrinford turns Sherlock's head back towards him. He then pries open Sherlock's eyelids. His eyes have rolled back, showing only the whites. "Tell me how you feel."

"Everything is spinning. Make it stop Sherri. Please." Sherlock's voice is desperate. "This is worse than the worst drug trip I've ever been on."

"Your body is turning against you." Sherrinford stands. "Okay." He snaps his fingers at a young teenager standing by the door. "Bellboy!"

He rushes over. "Yes sir?" He stands at attention, eager to please, but clearly nervous.

"I need you to ring up room 363. Get Mycroft down here to the lobby. Tell him it's urgent." The bellboy nods and rushes off to the counter to call. Sherrinford kneels back in front of Sherlock. "You still with me?"

"I thought I was going to be with John." Sherlock's voice is slightly garbled.

"You need to stay awake. If you start seeing a checkerboard or spots, you need to tell me right away. Understand?"

"You mean like…hallucinating?"

"No. Like you're going to pass out. If you do, you might have seizures or slip into a coma. So this is really important. Stay with me." Sherrinford pats Sherlock's cheek forcefully but without hurting him.

Sherlock opens his eyes and focuses on something behind Sherrinford. "Look. Butterflies." Sherrinford looks back but sees nothing.

"Sherlock, please focus." Sherrinford watches Sherlock's eyes carefully as they slowly train and focus on his face. "Good."

"Did you know mosquitos carry needles on their face?" Sherlock giggles. "That's funny."

"What are you talking about?"

"The fairies…" Sherlock leans over and starts dry heaving just as the elevator doors open and Mycroft barrels out.

"Mycro!" Sherrinford waves Mycroft over.

He runs over, pushing Sherrinford aside and grabs Sherlock's pale face. "What happened?"

Sherrinford rights himself. "He and I were talking, then he tried to stand up, collapsed and now he's starting to hallucinate. Sherlock talk to me. Are you seeing polka dots or spots?" Sherlock blinks three times. "Are you hearing me? Are you seeing polka dots or spots?"

Sherlock struggles for a second then says, "Polka dots. I like polka. And circles. So round and sparkly!" He pokes at invisible bubbles and laughs.

"God, he's losing it." Sherrinford stands and starts pacing anxiously. "We need to get the paramedics here pronto. Lay him down," he commands and helps Mycroft lay Sherlock on the floor. "Keep his head steady. Call and get us an ambulance, and then give me the phone. I'll call the detective working on Jim's case while you keep him conscious."

"I can handle calling Greg." Mycroft insists, pulling out his phone. He dials 999. "This is Mycroft Holmes. I need an ambulance here now. Diablo hotel. No. Just the ambulance. I'll be waiting." He hangs up and dials Lestrade. "Greg! Tell me where Jim Moriarty is. I swear to God. If he is out of his cell again…"

Sherrinford snatches the phone from Mycroft. "I need you to tell me where this Jim person is. Don't have a ton of time to talk."

"Who is this?" Lestrade asks.

"It doesn't matter right now. It's imperative that we know where he is and if he's managed to contact anyone."

"I'll need to head to the office. Can I call you back?" Lestrade yawns and stretches, obviously woken by the phone call.

"Fine but make it snappy!" Sherrinford hangs up and dials the number labelled John Watson, turning away from Mycroft who stands and tries to grab the phone back. Sherrinford points to Sherlock who is giggling and apparently counting something floating above his head. "Take care of him. I'm not going to do anything dangerous." Mycroft glares at Sherrinford but does as he's told.

John answers, "Mycroft?"

"John! I need a favor." Sherrinford walks to the window to watch for any incoming emergency personnel.

"Who is this? Why do you have Mycroft's phone?"

"There's no time to explain. Sherlock's in a bit of trouble and needs you here."

"I can't just get there. I'm in Belgium."

"He's in the hospital, John."

Caroline steals the phone, "Is Uncle Sherlock okay?!"

Sherrinford smiles at the little voice. "You must be Caroline. Pleasure to meet you. Mycroft speaks volumes of you." Sirens are heard approaching. "He'll probably be fine."

John takes the phone back, "What do you mean he's in the hospital? I spoke to him not 15 minutes ago!"

"Did he fall and break his head open? I heard sirens." Caroline yells in order to be heard. John sighs and puts the phone on speaker.

"No. No. No. But he's very sick." Sherrinford walks back over to Sherlock and Mycroft.

"Is it something you gave him?" Caroline asks accusingly. "What are you? An assassin?"

Sherrinford kneels down and checks Sherlock's pupils as he speaks. "N-No. Why would I give my brother something that could kill him?" Mycroft tries to take the phone again. "Mycroft stop!"

"Daddy!?" Caroline says excitedly.

"He's here, just occupied." Sherrinford thrusts his head toward the front doors, indicating to Mycroft to go get the paramedics. "We're getting Sherlock into an ambulance as we speak. John. He needs you here."

"Let me talk to Mycroft."

"Fine. Here." Sherrinford holds the phone out. "Mycroft. John wants to talk to you. I'll get them."

Mycroft takes the phone from Sherrinford who greets the paramedics and starts telling them what happened. "John?"

"Mycroft. The only planes out of here don't leave until almost 1300 hours. Please tell me you have a jet."

"I can get one sent to you, but there's no way I'm letting Caroline fly in something that fast." Mycroft watches as a pair of paramedics try to load Sherlock onto a stretcher.

"Hello fairies! Can we play a game? How about hide and seek? I count! Ready? 3, 9, 4, 1, 11… no that can't be right. What comes after seventeeneight?" Sherlock fights the man and woman who patiently try to get him to lay down. The man gives him a shot of something, and he is almost immediately relaxed.

Caroline about bursts from excitement. "Hi Daddy!"

"Hi, my little sugar dumpling." Mycroft smiles widely.

"Uncle John has been so fun! We got waffles! Mine had chocolate and whipped cream and strawberries on it! I want to fly in a jet! You don't have to worry! I'll wear my seatbelt and everything. Can we make waffles?" Caroline sounds as though she's bouncing off the walls.

Mycroft scoffs in amusement. "Fine. We'll make waffles. John, I'll send a jet out. It should arrive long before any commercial flight. I'll text you the boarding details. Just keep Caroline safe."

"I will. And Mycroft…" John's voice softens, "Keep Sherlock alive until I get there."

Mycroft notices the change in tone but chooses to ignore it. "I don't plan on letting him die."

"Just…make sure."

"You have my word."

"Thank you." John calls to Caroline who seems to have skipped off distractedly, "Carly, come say goodbye to your dad."

"Bye Daddy!" Caroline yells from across the room. John hangs up the call.

"Bye," Mycroft sighs and sends messages out for some favors before texting John the details. Sherrinford comes over as Mycroft is texting William Holmes.

Father, new client broke other client for me. Thanks for agreeing to help, but I no longer need your assistance. I apologize. I failed you. It won't happen again.
-Mycroft Holmes

Sherrinford watches the ambulance pull away as he speaks, "Mycro. Let's grab a cab and head to the hospital. We'll come back later. Any word from the officer?"

"None yet." Mycroft rubs his head. "Fuck. Let's just go." He leads Sherrinford out to the road and grabs a cab to the hospital. As they ride in silence, the phone starts ringing. Sherrinford snatches it away. "Would you quit doing that?"

"Sorry. It's for me." Sherrinford looks at the caller ID, Greg. "Hello. You the man with my news on Jim?"

"Yes. Though I still don't know who you are. Jim is still locked up and under strict surveillance and guard. Nothing has changed."

"Good. Don't let anyone see him. He has workers out to kill Mycroft, Sherlock…me. The lot of us."

"Are you going to fill me in on who 'me' is?"

Sherrinford closes his eyes and sighs. "I'm Sherrinford Holmes. Sherlock and Mycroft's older brother."

"Older?" Lestrade breathes out, obviously taken aback by this new information. "Alright. Whatever. Don't you worry about it Sherrinford. He's got no contact with the outside world."

"Check again. Make sure he hasn't bribed anyone," Sherrinford says sternly.

"Check again he says," Lestrade mumbles under his breath. "Fine."

"Look. Detective-"

"Chief," Lestrade interrupts.

"Chief. Mycroft and I are heading to the hospital with Sherlock. He started hallucinating. We'll call you again when things settle down and we know more."

"Is everything alright?"

Sherrinford pauses, "I hope so," then hangs up and pockets the phone. The taxi arrives at the hospital and they rush inside. Mycroft immediately demands to know where Sherlock had been taken.

A woman who resembles Molly calmly directs them down the hall. "You said you're his brother?"

"Yes."

"They wanted me to tell you that he had a seizure on the way here."

Sherrinford catches Mycroft as he moves to run down the hall. "How long was it?"

"The seizure?" She looks down at the paperwork. "It says here 45 seconds to a minute."

Sherrinford turns to Mycroft. "I'm sure he's fine. You need to take a deep breath okay? We'll go see him when you've calmed down a little." Suddenly, the glass doors behind them shatter. A sharp pain surges through Sherrinford's left rib cage and he clutches at it, sinking to the floor. A few of the staff gather to calm the lobby and move them away from the windows while two nurses drop their clip boards and rush to assist Sherrinford. He blinks, fighting the pain. "They wouldn't miss on purpose, Mycroft. See if you can find who it was. Be careful." Mycroft nods and runs outside, scanning the nearby buildings for the gunman, but nothing catches his attention. He heatedly steps back inside where Sherrinford had already been taken away.

"Where'd they take him?" Mycroft demands to the room at large.

The woman from before speaks up behind the counter, "Please sir, calm down."

"Don't tell me to calm down. That is not what I asked. Where did they take my brother?" She looks shocked but points the same way she'd directed them with Sherlock. Mycroft takes off running. Behind the double doors, people are scurrying like ants over a disturbed hill. He sees the wheelchair carrying Sherrinford turning the corner up ahead. "Stop!" Mycroft continues running up the hall after Sherrinford. Several doctors and nurses try to stop him, but he gives them a look that says stop me, you lose your job and they immediately back down. Despite being a lone man, he still struggles to keep up. As he weaves through the hall, he almost collides with another stretcher being guided out of a side room. He leaps aside with the agility of a much younger man and yells after Sherrinford again. "Stop!" The nurse pushing him slows and Mycroft finally catches up, out of breath. "Mycroft Holmes. This is my business." He reaches into Sherrinford's pocket and pulls out his phone. "Thank you. Carry on."

"Really Mycro? And I thought you cared." Sherrinford jokes but groans as the laugh shakes his bleeding chest. "Go find out what happened to Sherlock. I'll be fine." He attempts a smile. The nurse waves Mycroft off and pushes Sherrinford away toward the emergency room.

Mycroft groans and turns to the nearest nurse. "Where do they take ambulance patients?"