Chapter Text
Greg isn’t surprised when he walks into a quiet house. The house is always quiet. Mycroft even has quiet footsteps. However, he is taken aback when he enters the dimly lit bedroom and Mycroft is already nestled under the covers, fast asleep. This is odd. Mycroft wasn’t at work particularly early this morning. Concerned, he approaches the bed and puts his hand on his forehead, feeling the heat radiating from his skin. “Oh, baby. Why didn’t you say something this morning?” He asks, worry lacing his voice.
“I wasn’t feeling this way this morning. Anthea sent me home when I fainted in the car.” Mycroft murmurs, his voice a mere shadow of its usual strength.
“Can I get you anything? Water? Orange juice? Tea?” He asks as he sits carefully on the edge of the bed, not wanting to disturb him more than necessary.
“I’d love a cup of tea.” Mycroft says hoarsely, his voice raspy and weak.
“Of course. Can you come downstairs or do you want me to bring it up to you?” Greg asks, his voice soft and considerate. He doesn’t want to press Mycroft if he’s really not feeling well.
“Can you bring it up to me?” Mycroft asks, his eyes heavy with fatigue.
“Of course I can. So, tea with lemon and honey for you and tea for me. Just let me get changed and I’ll go do that.”
“Thank you.” He whispers, shivering slightly as he nestles deeper into the comforting warmth of the blankets.
He sighs and stands up. Mycroft rarely acknowledges his vulnerability, but he doesn’t look very strong right now. He quickly changes into his grey lounge pants, a t-shirt and a zip-up hoodie. “Okay babe, I’ll be right back with tea.”
“Thank you.” Mycroft croaks.
Greg smirks as he walks out of the bedroom. Mycroft’s typically polished, sleek, and resonant voice is now reduced to a raspy, froggy timbre.