Fever

panic

"Gregory, will you help me a little? I need to use the bathroom."
Myke tried to sit up. He started coughing again and when he came up with his chest he got dizzy. His circulation was really down.
Greg helped him up, he was really shaky on his feet.
Greg took him into the bathroom and then went back into the hallway but stopped at the door.
"Don't lock the door," he said.
"Mmm," came from Myke.
One could hear that he wasn't quite himself.

Greg heard the sound of the toilet flushing and was now waiting for the tap to flush by the sink. But instead there was a loud rumble.
Shocked, he tore open the door and saw Mycroft lying on the floor.
"Shit, Myke!"
He knelt beside him. Myke was unconscious. Greg checked his pulse, it was rapid and his breathing was okay.
Now what?
At that moment, the bell rang.
Thank God, that must be John.
Greg rushed to the door.

In fact, Dr Watson was standing in front of it.
"John, I'm glad you're here. Myke's collapsed on me."
Greg grabbed John's arm and pulled him behind him.

John examined Mycroft briefly, then he took his phone and called an ambulance.
He gave a brief description of the symptoms and anything Greg could tell him. Then he hung up.
"Greg", he said, "You go downstairs and show the paramedics the way. I'll stay with Mycroft. We'll get him to hospital. Does he have stuff here with you? So you can pack him some stuff?"
"No", said Greg, who was now pale as a sheet.
"But he brought a bag yesterday, I'm sure he left some things in it, since he spent the night."
"Okay," said the doctor, "you'd better run downstairs. The ambulance should be here soon."
Greg did what he said. He was really grateful that John was able to stay calm and keep track of the situation. Having a doctor for a best buddy was a good thing.

While Greg waited downstairs, John had put Mycroft in recovery position and called Sherlock. He told him what was going on and asked him to contact Anthea.
"Don't even try it, I know for a fact that you once stole Mycroft's mobile phone and returned it to him before he noticed, and that you wrote down Anthea's number among other things. Call her. Tell her to send Mycroft's car. Me and Greg can get to the hospital with ist faster than with the tube. After all, we're not relatives, so we can't travel in the ambulance car."
"I will," Sherlock said, "but I'd like you to come and fetch me too."
John had to smile despite everything.
No matter how much the two brothers argued with each other. When the chips were down, they were there for each other and could no longer deny that they cared.

Before long, the ambulance was there.
They put the still unconscious Mycroft on a stretcher and took him downstairs while John gave a brief indication of his condition; then the car whizzed away.
A short time later, Mycroft's limousine was in front of them. Again Greg was grateful that John was there and had organised this.
They got in and collected Sherlock first.
Greg was bursting with impatience. But of course he could understand that the detective also wanted to know how his brother was doing, and that was the fastest way to get ahead.

Arriving at the hospital, John went ahead and by virtue of his medical authority they were shortly after in the waiting area in front of the examination room.
While John left Greg and Sherlock sitting there with coffee mugs, he went about finding out more.

A short time later he came back and sat down with them.
"Well," he said.
"Mycroft's down with the flu, a real viral flu. And it looks like he's been struggling with it for a couple of days now, but instead of going to bed and getting better he suppressed the symptoms with medication and just kept working. Until his body just wouldn't work anymore and shut down."
"Phh," snorted Sherlock. "That's typical."
"When he arrived, he was very tired and exhausted," Greg said softly. "But I've been putting it off for a particularly trying week at work."
John put his hand on Greg's arm to cheer him up.
"He is now on an antipyretic and circulation-stabilising drip," explained John.

"John," Greg said in a trembling voice. "The flu... ...people die."
"Yes," said John. "But Mycroft is in the best hands here now. He can do this, Greg."
Greg was blinking his eyes.
He could feel tears building up.
E grabbed John's arm...
"I...we've only just found each other. I don't want to lose him again..."
And he felt a tear run down his cheek.
"I'm scared shitless."

At that moment it was Sherlock who surprised them all.
He turned to Gregory and pulled him into a hug.
"Listen, brother-in-law," he said. "Mycroft is strong. He can do this. And we must be strong now, and believe in him. ...all right?"
"Yes," Greg said. "Thanks."
Sherlock patted him on the back and released the hug.
Sherlock listened to himself. It felt good to admit his concern for his brother and he felt that he and Greg were now closer. That was good. Yeah, he liked that.

A nurse came up to her.
"You belong to Mr. Holmes? Are you related?"
"I'm his brother," Sherlock said.
"Then come," she said, "you may visit your brother. I'm not allowed to take more than one visitor to him, I'm sorry," she said, addressing the other two.
Sherlock had stood up, but then he hesitated for a moment.
"Then DI Lestrade should go with you," he said. "He's Mr Holmes' partner."
Again, he had surprised the others.
"Thank you," Greg said and left with the nurse.

John turned to Sherlock and smiled lovingly at him.
Sherlock looked uncertain.
"I... ..exaggerated?"
"No, Sherlock, you did exactly the right thing. I love you."
And then the doctor kissed his loved one tenderly and hard, and it was a good thing they were alone in the waiting room.