Author's note: 42/60. Because I have no idea how hospitals in London are called, let's pretend there is only one for this fanfic.

Pairing: Sherlock x Mycroft (platonic)

Warnings: OOC

Disclaimer: I do not own Sherlock BBC

Emergency

"Mr. Holmes, the hospital just called, your brother is currently at the emergency room, he was hit by a car whose driver died of a heart attack."

Hearing his secretary's words, Mycroft dropped the pen he was holding and hurriedly got up before sprinting out of his office and towards the car, where his driver was waiting for him at all moments.

"To the hospital, as quickly as you can." The driver did not even nod, he just started the car and broke all the speed limits in order to get to the hospital in under five minutes.

As soon as they arrived, Mycroft exited the car and went to the receptionist; "I received a call that my brother is in the ER, his name is Sherlock Holmes." The nurse typed something in her computer then answered Mycroft.

"The surgery has been completed, he is currently recovering at room 201, you go straight here and turn left at the first corridor; the room is the second one on your right."

Absentmindedly giving the nurse a nod, Mycroft hurried towards the room and when he arrived, he saw that a doctor was exiting his brother's room. As quickly as he could, he approached the man before he could leave.

"Are you Sherlock Holmes doctor?"

"Yes, and you are?"

"I am Mycroft Holmes, his brother. How is he?"

The doctor sighed. "He broke three of his ribs and his left leg. He also had internal bleeding which is what worried us but that has been taken care for."

Mycroft sighed in relief. "Because I know my brother, can he be moved? Unless it is in his own home with his personal doctor, he will become a nightmare to the staff assigned to him."

The doctor stared at him for a few moments, trying to understand whether he was being deceived. "Have your doctor call me and I will schedule it with them." Mycroft nodded and went inside the room.

Sitting on the chair next to his brother's chair, he grabbed a hand and sighed.

"One of these days you will give me a heart attack, Sherlock." He mumbled and then got comfortable in the chair, knowing that he would not leave until his brother woke up.

British government or not, his brother needed him at the moment and nothing else mattered. Only Sherlock.