Anthea never much liked 'd lost an older cousin she was close to when they were both really young. He was in his mid teens and she was barely pubescent. But, nonetheless, she smiled as her boss as she pressed the door closed behind her.

"How are you?" She asked, with as little emotion as she could muster. Mycroft wouldn't respond to that anyway.

"Been better." He groaned, sitting up in the bed.

"Good." The silence wasn't as comforting as it usually was between them. They didn't use a lot of words to communicate and certainly didn't talk about sentiment, so, when he let out another groan, she knew he had deduced her.

"I'm fine." Mycroft's mouth was tight as he spoke.

"Good." More silence and another sigh from him.

"You really need to stop with this nonsense, Anthea. You know it only gets in the way with our work."

"Of course, sir." Following his cue, she whipped out her phone and sat next to him. "I've already cleared everything off—"

"Why on earth would you do that?"

"Because you're laid up in hospital and you won't be any use at work sick. It's better to just take the time than have the chance of needing more time off again later." Her look was stern, she was challenging him to argue. After some thought, he relented.

"Fine." Casually, he waved his hand and took another drink of water.

"Now, what exactly have the doctors said?"

"Nothing."

"Nothing you want to share." She finished his statement.

"Don't worry about it, lets just decide what I can do from here." He reached over and adjusted his morphine drip.

"If thats what you want—"

"Yes." His teeth were gritted, he was serious. No more talk of the bullet he took and no discussion of any damage it might have caused.

"Ok, then." She retrieved a satchel that was beside his bed. He must have called for it somehow. Anthea could only assume Sherlock had retrieved it on his behalf. Calmly, she flipped through its contents and began rattling off the data and inquiring what actions should be taken for what. It was hard for her to ignore when he made a strained face, but she pressed on, as instructed.

"Anthea…"

"Now, do you want to…"

"Anthea…" His voice was strained, she stopped and looked up.

"Mycroft?"

"Doctor,now." He barely got out before the machines started making urgent noises and his face twisted in pain.