And here we are, another update.

I'm quite proud of this one, I managed to write it on my brithday after having an exam and having one tomorrow. I was worried that I wouldn't get the chance.

So here we are, the final part of the substory of Sherlock's sickness.

Enjoy!

Chapter Seven

After falling asleep, Sherlock awoke to see Mycroft coming into his room.

"Are the fish here yet?" Sherlock asked sleepily, fighting off the effects of the illness that was slwly seeping away.

"Yes, and you have… friends over." Mycroft replied.

"Who is it again?" Sherlock asked.

"John, Mrs Hudson, Lestrade, Donovan, Anderson and Molly. They have also brought you a present, to say get better." Mycroft replied.

"Do they have to be here?" Asked Sherlock.

"John does live here." Mycroft reminded his brother.

"But the rest of them…" Sherlock's voice trailed off.

"Sherlock Holmes, you only have to be up for a few minutes, then you can go back to bed." Mycroft replied.

"Promise?" Asked Sherlock.

"Yes." Mycroft replied.

"And no eating?" Sherlock asked.

"I won't force your hand, you only have to worry about what the good doctor will say." Mycroft replied.

After considering this, Sherlock stood up, wrapped up in his duvet and walked into the living room. There was a large section in the middle for the furniture and a walkway to the fire and the window. Some things had to be moved, but somehow, Mycroft's people had managed to fit everything in. Sherlock easily spotted Mycroft fish swimming around and he automatically began to name the other fish, using names of the people assembled there.

"Get better Sherlock!" Was the general words that went around the room as Sherlock inspected the fish.

"It's nice to know that you're actually human." Sargent Donovan said, and Sherlock was almost surprised by her lack of the word 'freak'. But he knew that you were meant to be nice to people when they were sick.

"more of the boys back at the yard wanted to come, but I said we didn't want to disturb you. They made this card." Lestrade said, holding up a large card, with many names crammed onto it. This surprised Sherlock, most of them hated him. But he didn't show it.

"Have you already given the fish names?" John asked, noticing that Sherlock's gaze had barely left the fish.

"Yes, that one's Lestrade," Sherlock replied, pointing to a fish swimming lazily around. "That one's Anderson." He now indicated towards a fish that was stuck with the concept of reflection and believed it had an enemy. "There you are John." He replied, pointing to a fish that kept swimming around, checking up on the other fish. "That's Molly." He indicated to one of the fish peacefully remaining still. "Mrs Hudson." This fish was constantly nudging stones. "And Donovan." He finally gestured towards a fish that was following Lestrade fish.

"Well, we all got you a present, Sherlock. We knew that there wouldn't be enough fish, so we got you a phantom koi and took the liberty to name it for you. It's called Sherlock." Anderson said, taking out a bag with a black fish in it. The fish had a silver skeletal pattern on it and Anderson opened the bag and placed it in the aquarium. It was a lot smaller than the other fish, to Sherlock's annoyance, but the other fish didn't bother it. Mycroft fish inspected Sherlock fish, then swam away to continue whatever mission was on its fishy brain.

Thankfully, everyone soon left, including Mycroft, with the promise that he would check up on Sherlock tomorrow morning. John sat, looking at the aquarium.

"Well, I never thought that you would get one of these. I would have expected to be angry, but it does add a certain… theme to the room." John said. There was no reply from Sherlock, who sat in his duvet, curled up on the sofa. Silence reigned over the house for an hour while John read his newspaper.

"John, where can I get another illness?" Sherlock asked, suddenly.

"What? I thought you hated being ill. Lack of being able to do anything and such." John exclaimed.

"You're a doctor, couldn't you bring home a flu or something?" Asked Sherlock.

"Sherlock. Why?" John asked.

"Well, everyone gives me presents and I'm sure if I'm ill enough I'll get something interesting, like a serial killer. Or a shark."

"Or a shar…" John shook his head. "I give up."

I do not own Sherlock, it is the property of the BBC

Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed it.

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I'd be lost without my reviewers.