"From the description of your symptoms, I can't say for sure what it is exactly."

Mycroft exhaled in slight frustration. "Okay, I'm assuming a few tests will necessary?"

"Quite right, Mister Holmes. Now, if you wouldn't mind…"

"I can tell you right now that my brother has a case of rheumatic fever." Sherlock interjected.

The doctor pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose with his middle finger. "I'm sorry, but I can't take the word of a civilian with a lack of a medical degree."

Sherlock took a step forward. "I'll have you know that I—"

"Sherlock," John whispered through clenched teeth, "let the nice man do his job."

Anthea, who was still at Mycroft's side, was texting on her Blackberry. "What kinds of tests?"

"Well, we'll have to start with a blood test, from which we'll be able to confirm if it is or isn't rheumatic fever."

"It is."

"Sherlock!" John tugged at his friend's wrist. "Why don't we step outside for some water, hmm?"

Now alone with the doctor, Anthea began asking questions, much to Mycroft's displeasure.

"So," she started, typing a final text, "what kind of recovery time are we talking about if he does have rheumatic fever?"

"Well, to be honest, even if he doesn't have the illness, he shouldn't be working. The fever's still at it, so Mister Holmes needs to be taking some leave off work. I'd say one to two weeks."

Mycroft tightened his grip on his umbrella.

"One to two weeks… so this is if he does in fact have it?"

"Correct."

"Got it." She began furiously typing on her phone's small screen.

"Anthea, don't do anything rash." Mycroft muttered, carefully getting off the doctor's examining table. "Where can I take the blood test?"

"Right, you'd rather do it today than later?"

"Today's good." Mycroft told him.

The doctor nodded. "If you'd follow me."

"Ooh, where are we off too?" Sherlock asked with mock enthusiasm as they all trailed behind the doctor.

"Blood test." Anthea replied, not looking up from her mobile.

"Right. You doing okay, Mycroft?"

"Fine, John."

The awkward small talk ceased there, until they arrived at the testing room. Mycroft's stomach flipped as he recalled what it was like for him as a child. It was strange, having these anxious feelings about getting blood drawn when he'd been through so much worse.

"Alright, have a seat for me here." The man gestured to the only chair in the room and Mycroft obliged. "Shouldn't take too long now." he added as a nurse cleaned the elder brother's arm with an antiseptic wipe. Sherlock watched intently as she stuck his brother's arm.

"Oh, so brave you are!" Mrs. Holmes commented, squeezing her elder son's hand. Mycroft resisted the urge to snatch it away.

Sherlock watched the red liquid coursing through the plastic tubes, wide-eyed. "Look at all the blood." he breathed.

"You planning on being a doctor someday?" the nurse asked him politely.

He shook his head. "No."

"Oh." she said, not quite sure how to reply.

"Alright, you're all done." The nurse carefully removed the needle from Mycroft's arm and placed a Hello Kitty plaster over the injection mark. Seeing Mycroft's frown, she laughed.

"Sorry, we're all out of regular."

"Quite alright." Mycroft said with a tight smile. "I'm free to go?"

"Yes," the doctor answered, "and I'll have your results in either tomorrow or the day after."

"Perfect." John replied. "And until then?"

"Bed rest and paracetamol. Take it easy." The doctor advised as he opened the door for the group. "Have a good day."

AN - This chapter's a little on the short side, I know... fingers crossed that the next one will be a little longer! Thank you all for reading, I'm getting such great reviews. Hope you all have a great night! :)