Chapter Text
“She’s late.”
John looked up from his computer at the pacing consulting detective, “She’s always late Sherlock.”
“She’s late even with my counting on the fact that she’s always late. Something is wrong.”
John sighed, worrying slightly himself because as usual Sherlock was right- you were late.
Just as Sherlock was about to grab his coat and go to look for you, the door swung open and you bundled through, cheerfully greeting them, “I come bearing gifts and food.”
“You’re late.”
You rolled your eyes at your brother as you moved to the kitchen to set what you had in your arms down, “I’m always late Sherlock.”
“You’re later than usual. What happened?”
You sighed, shaking your aching head as you tried to deal with him patiently, “My flat is across town, I was carrying all this, and I didn’t leave on time. You do the math.”
He narrowed his eyes at you, trying to decipher if you were lying, when you gave a whopping sneeze, just barely managing to catch it in the crook of your arm. Sherlock shied away from you immediately, scrunching up his nose, “Are you ill?”
“I’m fine Sherlock. It was just a sneeze,” you said shooting him a glare over his reaction before sarcastically flinging, “Thank you so much for your concern. Really, if I were sick, that would have been so comforting.”
“You know you always give me your sick. I have a busy life- I can’t afford that.”
“And I can?”
“You can hardly prevent something that’s already happened (F/n). Don’t be an idiot.”
“I’m going to lick you.”
Sherlock rolled his eyes at the childish threat, “Why must you act so juvenile? I know you aren’t going to lick me.”
You gave him a look that told him he was horribly mistaken and moved to chase him when he bolted out of the kitchen. He hid behind John, who was more than used to your sibling antics, but you only got as far as John’s chair before you let out a painful sounding series of coughs. You sank down in it as you wheezed and Sherlock almost shrieked, “You are sick. Don’t touch anything!”
John shot a glare at him and got up to press a hand to your forehead, finding it far too warm, “How long have you been feeling off (F/n)?”
You leaned into the coolness of his hand as you tried to think back, “Ahhh… When was the last time it rained?”
“Wednesday.”
“However long ago that was.”
“Two days.” Sherlock supplied, keeping a good distance from you as he inched back into the kitchen, and John frowned, “How do you not know what day it is?”
“I was working up until this morning… What day it was hardly mattered.”
“Did you touch the brain or just the bag?” came a call from the kitchen and you rolled your eyes, “Just the bag. Your brain is safe for you to wreak whatever havoc you’d like on it. You’re welcome by the way.”
You looked back at John to give him a tired smile, “There’s a jumper for you in there as well. Though that I’ve touched so best to wash it first.”
There was concern in your friend’s eyes but you ignored it, pushing yourself up out of the chair to pull your coat back on, “I should go home. Sherlock will just be an insufferable mysophobe the entire time I’m here so there’s no point in staying. I brought Chinese and I only touched the bag so please enjoy it.”
John stopped you, “You’re sick… You shouldn’t be on your own.”
“She’s not staying here.”
You and John both rolled your eyes and you called, “I didn’t want to stay here anyway, you twat.”
Looking back at John, you tried to reassure him, “I’ll be fine John. It’s not the first time I’ve been sick and I’m sure it won’t be the last.”
He made you promise to call if things got worse and watched you leave with worried eyes before turning to go into the kitchen, “You could have been nicer to your sister, Sherlock.”
“She’s a walking cesspool of germs. Her being here only upped the chances of one of us getting sick exponentially. Besides, statistically, it’s probably just a variant of the common cold and no cause for concern.”
John rolled his eyes, grabbing the food you’d brought and removing it from where Sherlock was contently cutting apart the brain you’d brought him before taking out the jumper you’d mentioned. It was soft and thick in a complex cable pattern and the grey-blue color matched his eyes. He sighed, you always brought him the best gifts and he’d just let Sherlock kick you out of the flat in under ten minutes when you were sick- he felt extremely guilty.