I own nothing
Mycroft can't take it anymore.
Sherlock has been coughing for an hour and thirty minutes and Mycroft is becoming concerned. He got up from his desk and looked outside the door he had wide open so he can easily hear Sherlock at Sherlock's cracked bedroom door. Mycroft was quiet for a moment. Then, he heard more coughing. He sighed and went into the bathroom and grabbed the cough syrup. Mycroft went back downstairs and got a spoon as well as a bottle of water. He went back upstairs and quietly opened up the door.
"Sherlock?" Mycroft whispered, "Are you awake?"
"Yes," replied Sherlock, followed by another round of coughing.
Mycroft went over and sat him up to cough out some the gunk in his lungs. When Sherlock stopped, Mycroft put some of the cough syrup on the spoon and held it out to him.
"Here," said Mycroft, "It'll help."
Sherlock shook his head.
"Sherlock, please," begged Mycroft, "Don't act like this. I know you're tired but this medicine will help you feel better."
Sherlock hesitated but took the spoon and put it in his mouth. Mycroft almost laughs at Sherlock's face after he swallows and hands him the bottle of water which Sherlock gulps down with relief.
"Thank you," said Sherlock, putting the bottle on the bedside table.
Mycroft smiled and gently pushed Sherlock back down on his bed, covering him up afterwards.
"Maybe now you'll be able to sleep and not cough up your lungs," said Mycroft with a small laugh.
"Maybe," mumbled Sherlock with a yawn.
Mycroft smiled again and ruffled Sherlock's dark, curly, brown hair.
"Now, go to sleep," said Mycroft getting up and going towards the door, "Good night."
"Good night, Mycroft," said Sherlock, "See you in the morning."
Author's note: Sorry that it's so short but the next chapter will make up for this.
