Hey guys, sorry it's been a while. Life has been super busy. Hoping it dies down soon! I've finally gotten ahead in my writing so I'm posting a new chapter! Yay! Hope you enjoy and thanks for the reviews/favs/follows! Here's Chapter 20!

Chapter 20

Since Addie had won the game show challenge, the agreement was that Sherlock would let her have three of his cases and he would step in if she requested and needed him. He was very grumpy about this and proceeded to express this grumpiness under his breath during each case. He sneered at her comments and rolled his eyes at her deductions. He was being an all-around brat.

Addie ignored him of course, being used to his tantrums. But today she had a pounding headache and a queasy stomach. If he didn't know any better, she'd swear she had a hangover. But since no alcohol was consumed the night before, she knew that wasn't the case. Her reprimands to Sherlock were half-hearted and she let him get away with more than he should have, simply because she was exhausted and felt like crap.

She was currently bent down over a victim, rattling off about the shape and size of the bruises and the angle at which the abuser would have had to be to inflict such injuries. Lestrade was looking intently and hanging on her every word, completely oblivious to the fact that she had broken out in a sweat and her eyes were becoming glassy. John didn't seem to notice either as he fervently took notes and nodded his head at her cleverness.

Sherlock however, knew that something was off the moment she woke up. To anyone else it wouldn't have been obvious, but to him it was extremely clear. For one thing, she only added one sugar to her tea, meaning she needed the extra stimulants for something. Another was that she put significantly less jam on her toast, possibly an indication that she didn't have a big appetite. Also, she'd taken more time reading the homicide section of the paper because she was squinting and rubbing her eyes. Yes, Sherlock knew, something was definitely off.

Having successfully deduced the victim's injuries as well as their life story, Addie stood back up from her crouch. She immediately got a dizzy spell and swayed a bit on her feet. Lestrade reached out to steady her.

"Alright, kiddo?" he asked.

Addie straightened up. "Yes, fine. Stood up a bit too fast, that's all." Sherlock could tell a lie from a mile away. Addie wasn't fine and the dizziness wasn't a result of standing up too fast.

Things just got worse as the day progressed. Addie kept wiping her brow and pinching the bridge of her nose. Her eyes were glassy and she was making strangled coughing sounds so as not to alert anyone that she was feeling terrible. She should have known better. She must have really been off her game to not notice Sherlock studying her closely and making his own deductions. If she were her normal observant self, she would have not been so surprised to find that she and Sherlock were now alone in the corridor with John and Lestrade discussing their notes by the front door.

"When were you planning on telling someone you're sick?"

"Huh?"

"Very articulate response. Just serves to prove my point. You're miserable, but you insist on being stubborn and pushing yourself through," Sherlock said with a critical eye.

Addie gave a bitter laugh. "Well isn't that the pot calling the kettle black! You're the perfect example of this, Sherlock. I learned from the best, after all."

Sherlock didn't seem amused and instead turned away to walk over to John and Lestrade. She saw Sherlock lean in to talk to them and immediately John's eyes were on her, diagnosing her every symptom from afar.

Addie knew she was caught and she was in for it now. She moved to take a step towards them and attempt to say that she was perfectly fine and didn't need to be fussed over, but her legs turned to jelly and she pitched forward. Strong arms caught her before she would hit the ground and she looked up into John's concerned eyes.

"High fever, dizziness, headache. Might be the flu," John said. "Anything else, Addie?"

Addie gulped and was breathing heavily. "Sick. Feel sick."

"Well, we guessed that much," Lestrade said.

"No…" Addie panted. "Feel….siii-"

John had just enough time to move out of the way before Addie vomited all over the floor. She coughed and wiped her mouth, but stayed on the ground. Her head was killing her and she doubted her ability to get up without passing out.

"I think that answers your question, John," Sherlock said cheekily.

"Alright, you guys go on home. We have what we need. And for god's sake, get that kid in bed," Lestrade said as he walked back to his team muttering about "stubborn Holmes's."

John leaned down to help Addie to her feet. "Most definitely the flu. Liquids, rest, and paracetamol. No cases for you for a while."

Addie let out a small whine and John couldn't tell if it was her feeling worse or a reaction to his "no cases" rule. Maybe both.

She was now on her feet and clutching her head. She was able to walk but Sherlock and John kept their hands on her to keep her steady just in case. Lestrade had hailed them a cab and it was waiting for them when they made it to the street. Addie slipped in first, nearly toppling over in the process. Sherlock's arms around her waist kept her upright and she was, as gently as possible, maneuvered into the cab. Sherlock followed, then John, closing the door and telling the driver where to go.

Addie's head lolled against Sherlock's shoulder and she closed her eyes. "S-S-Sherlock…" Addie struggled to say through her heavy breathing.

"Sherlock…the case…y'gotta solve it…tell 'Strade…" she trailed off, coughing.

"I know, Addie," Sherlock replied.

"Please, Lockie, solve it. 'M not as good as you," Addie said before her head fell forward and she fell asleep.

"It's fine Addie. You did good, little sister. Don't worry," Sherlock said as he adjusted his hold on her.