Sherlock Imagines/Preferences

51: They're Sick

Sherlock: You had been sitting in the living room with your breakfast for quite a while. An hour had passed and Sherlock still hadn't made an appearance yet. Most days he would rise early to begin solving crimes, but for some reason, he wasn't awake yet. You crept up to the door quietly and checked on him; the detective was lying in bed with a red nose. He sniffled and sat up, immediately pretending to feel better so you wouldn't try healing him all day. Just as he opened his mouth, he weezed loudly and looked up weakly at you.

"You're staying in bed, no arguments. I'll make you some tea and breakfast." You ordered him.

He sat silently, knowing not to argue a point that would prove him wrong. 

John: The doctor came home from work, sounding gravely ill and looking quite pale. He greeted you with a plastered smile, trying to persuade you that he was perfectly healthy.

"You okay?" You asked him.

"Yeah, just had a busy day." He responded with a scratchy voice and coughed.

"Okay." You responded sarcastically, turning around and going to the kitchen.

John began coughing again and you immediately sent him to bed, bringing him a warm meal and sitting beside him to eat dinner in bed.

"You're staying home tomorrow, by the way." You announced.

"Fine by me, I don't want to go anyways." John chuckled.

Moriarty: You sat on a bar stool in the kitchen, reading a book with your breakfast. Jim arrived, trudging over the floor, and smiled weakly with his suit on. His hair was slightly out of place and you could hear his sniffles every few seconds.

"Morning, love." Jim greeted with a rough tone.

"Jim, you're ill. You should go back to bed and get better." You suggested.

"No, I can't possibly miss a day. The big bad world doesn't rest and I'm not all that sick anyways." Jim shrugged.

"I didn't ask for your opinion. You're being ridiculous." You responded.

He sighed, chuckling at your response towards his condition and submitted to your request. You spent the day in bed beside him and got sick the next day.

Lestrade: Greg stood up from his seat at the table, placing his empty coffee cup in the sink as he rushed to get to work. He sneezed loudly just as he was about to open the door. You were walking down the stairs at that moment and placed your hand on your hip. You cleared your throat to signal your presence.

"Morning, (Y/N)." Greg said.

"I'm calling Scotland Yard and telling them you're staying home sick today." You stated bluntly.

"I can't miss work, it's too late for that. I'm already awake and it's just a little cold." He replied.

"But you'll be miserable all day and feel worse when you come home. Here, come inside and I'll make you some tea with honey." You explained, finally managing to get him to listen.

Mycroft: Typing away at your desk, you waited for Mycroft to arrive in your office. He was supposed to receive incredibly private information that couldn't be transfered over phone or email. It took him almost an hour after your scheduled rendez-vous time- quite distressing since he was always early to any event. Once he did arrive, you could tell something was wrong. Mycroft looked ill, and it was very obvious.

"The mission to Tripoli went well, I presume." He began the conversation.

"Yes, and I believe you should return home." You responded with a smile.

"What for?"

"You're clearly ill. I can finish your work for the day."

"That's not happening, (Y/N). I can't leave this- our people can die and the point is to avoid that."

He coughed and straightened out his tie.

"See, you should go home." You pointed out.

He responded with a rough voice from a sore throat: "I'm perfectly fine."

You gave him a "really?" look and he sighed in submission.

Molly: While you drank from your coffee mug, Molly came down the hallway to meet your gaze in the kitchen. She sheepishly walked over to you and sniffled.

"I'm afraid that I'll have to stay home with you today. I've got a terrible stomachache." Molly confessed.

"I wouldn't mind taking care of you. I'm sorry you feel bad, Molly." You responded kindly.

She smiled gratefully and went back to bed with some medication for her stomach. You both spent the day watching telly together and eating in bed. After such a restful day, the pathologist felt several times better than she had the day before.

Irene: The bed was completely vacant when you woke up. It was strange for her to be awake so early, much more out of the comfortable bedroom. You found Irene sitting downstairs in the living room with an array of remedies over the coffee table: pots of herbal tea, honey, soup, cough syrup, hot baking soda-salt water solution, lemon juice, etc. She sniffled and coughed every once in a while.

"You alright, Irene?" You asked.

"Sick, if you can't tell." She responded sarcastically.

"I'll get you some medication, love."

"No, it's alright. I'm feeling better after this tea and everything else. Plus it'd be best for you to just stay home."

"Fine. But if you're still ill tomorrow, you should go to the doctor."

She accepted your deal and remained on the couch for the rest of the day.