Brotherly love

Disclaimer: Everything belongs to Steven Moffat and Mark Gatiss

Chapter one.

Mycroft headed towards 221B Baker Street, he quickened the pace, swinging his umbrella from side to side. His brow furrowed, he had a feeling something was not quite right. When he arrived, his brother's landlady answered, he smiled,

'Ah! Good day Mrs Hudson! How are you?'

Mrs Hudson smiled, 'Oh baring up Mr Holmes, Baring up.'

'How is my brother?'

She sighed, 'Oh the usual, you know Sherlock!'

'Yes…' Mycroft looked towards the staircase and sighed, 'No John?'

'No, he went out with Sarah earlier on.' She smiled, 'A lovely girl.'

'Right! Well, I'll just head up.' Mycroft climbed the stairs, uncertainly, he always was when visiting his little brother. At the back of his mind, he had a feeling what was wrong with him but he forced himself to push that thought to the back of his mind. When he entered, he found the room in a mess,

'Ah! Mycroft! Thought it was you.'

Mycroft turned to see Sherlock lying on the sofa, he was still in his pyjamas and dressing gown, panic flooded him, but he did not let that show, 'Sherlock, are you alright?'

Sherlock rested his head on the back of the sofa, 'I have a cold.'

Mycroft arched an eyebrow, 'Really?'

He nodded slowly. Mycroft watched him and it pained him to see his little brother in such a state. He sat down, 'Sherlock, we cannot delay this any longer.'

Sherlock frowned, 'What do you mean?'

'You know what I mean. You know what is wrong with you.'

He sighed and jumped up don't be stupid!'

Mycroft shrugged, 'Your mood swings, the drugs, you have bi-polar Sherlock!'

Sherlock shook his head, 'Don't be stupid!'

'You need to see a doctor.'

'Why do you care?'

Mycroft raised his eyebrows, 'Of course I care! You are my little brother! And, after all is said and done, I do care about you! You need a doctor!'

Sherlock shook his head, 'I don't need a doctor.'

'Yes you do and you are going.'

Sherlock suddenly glared at him, 'You've already made the appointment! How dare you!'

Mycroft sighed, 'I'm not arguing with you Sherlock, just come downstairs I have a car waiting.'

Sherlock folded his arms, 'You can't make me!'