Joan noted the time on her phone. "It been an hour, we need to check your temperature again."

Sherlock had been lingering in the realm between dream and reality, only barely keeping track of the activity taking place in the brownstone around him. He was vaguely aware of Joan slipping the glass thermometer between his teeth and gently holding his jaw shut to keep the device in place. He opened his eyes and through his blurry vision Joan's face came into view.

She took the thermometer from his mouth. "102.1, I think we need to take you to the hospital."

"No." Sherlock sounded hoarse and tired. "My fever has begun its decline, thus I am permitted to remain here in the brownstone."

Joan sighed. "I don't like this Sherlock, you may have a serious respiratory infection and if it's not treated properly you could develop severe complications that can cause permanent damage."

"The operative word in your statement is 'could' Watson, not 'will'."

Kitty walked into the room with a bottle of water in her hand and stared at Sherlock, having overheard his decision from the kitchen. "Are you daft? You would risk damaging your body just to avoid hospitals?"

"Hospitals and doctors." Sherlock replied. "Current company excluded of course."

"Fine." Joan didn't want to argue with him. "At least drink some water."

Kitty handed the bottle to Sherlock who weakly took it from her grasp. He gingerly sipped the water and grimaced as he began coughing again.

"Sherlock," Joan continued to monitor his condition. "I don't like the sound of that cough."

"My apologies Watson," he paused to cough once more, his arm covering his mouth. "to which sound of a cough would you prefer?"

"That's not funny, this is serious." Joan scolded her former mentor but refrained from yelling at the ill man. "We want to help you."

When Joan said 'we' Kitty felt a twinge of relief knowing that Joan was willing to trust her, at least with Sherlock's health.

"I quite aware Watson, one does not simply aid a person who has caused damning rift in their former partnership for kicks!"

"But you still won't let us take you to the hospital?"

"No. I am conscious, I am coherent and I am an adult capable of making their own decisions."

"Fine, just try to get some rest." She removed the compresses that were dripping with melted ice from his body. "I'll be back with more ice."

Kitty followed Joan into the kitchen and watched as the former doctor slipped the icy wet towels into plastic lunch bags before wrapping fresh ice cubes into the same towels.

"Is he going to recover?" Kitty asked hesitantly. She was tense and fidgeting a little as she waited for a reply.

Joan looked at Kitty and saw the young protégé's concern. "He'll be fine. We just need to keep an eye on him and make sure he doesn't do anything to inhibit his body's ability to heal."

"Agreed. So you'll take the first shift and I the second?"

"Spoken like a true apprentice."

Kitty hid her grin at the comment and returned to the study where Sherlock still laid. She curled up in the armchair across from the sofa and watched her mentor's chest slowly rise and fall with his stammering, uneven breaths. It seemed to surreal for her to him in such a state. He was always so strong, so in control and so full of energy. Now he was laying defenselessly drenched in his own sweat, unable to stand let alone solve crimes.

Joan returned to the study and placed the refreshed compresses to Sherlock's forehead and chest. She stepped out of the room and retrieved a small blue blanket from the nearby closet and draped it over Sherlock's sleeping form. "The blanket will keep the cold from the compress on his chest from escaping."

"Shouldn't the combination of cold and warmth also assist in breaking the fever?"

Sitting in the second chair, the one in eye piercing right orange fabric, Joan smiled. "Yeah. Do you know much about medicine?"

"Only home remedies and what my mum had done when I was little." Kitty's eye suddenly dulled with emotional pain.

'Her mom.' Joan thought to herself. 'Touchy subject.' "If we can reduce the fever enough to keep him from overheating but still allow his body to use the fever to fight the infection, he should recover within two or three days."

"Think he'll be able to survive three days without a puzzle to piece together?"

"I'm not sure we'll be able to survive two days without a puzzle for him to solve."

...to be continued...