Sick day. (Sherlock x reader one shot)

Sick day.

"(Y/n)!" Sherlock called, you have been running errands for Sherlock ever since he gotten sick. His body was heating up, but he complained that he was cold. You couldn't win.

You've known Sherlock since your school days. Only until John leaves Baker Street to live with his wife, did Sherlock consult you to ask you to move in. He didn't take John leaving him well, he had relapsed. He was taking drugs again, but you managed to save him and help him through his withdrawal.

"Yes, Sherlock?" You asked the consulting detective.
"Help me, my throats sore. It feels like I've swallowed sand paper." Sherlock croaked.
"I'll get you a drink." You left his dark bedroom and hopped into the kitchen down the corridor. As you were preparing his honey and lemon tea - you had read somewhere that it helps with sore throats- you felt slender arms wrap softly around your waist. "Sherlock, get back to bed. I'm making you tea." You said.
"N... No-" Sherlock slurred, the pain killers you gave him earlier were finally taking effect.
"Yes, Sherlock. You need to rest." You dimly stated, at least he wouldn't recognise your black pupils dialating in his ill state.
"Off to bed!" You said to him dragging him and his cup of tea to his bedroom. You thought about ringing John to ask him to come over to diagnose Sherlock.

"Hey John. I need your help." You stated bluntly over the phone. "Sherlock has the cold. He seems to be getting worse."

~~~ time skip ~~~

"Hey (Y/n), where is he?" John asked as he entered the flat. You took him to Sherlock's room to see him in a foetal position- aw, cute. He's like a little baby. Should I be thinking like this? Sentiment? Yes. I welcome it only for him. My consulting detective. My Sherlock.

You run your hand through your (h/l) (h/c) hair and look at John who is staring curiously at Sherlock. "Just common cold, he should be better within the week. How did he get a cold?"
"Well..."

~~~ Flashback ~~~

You and Sherlock were hot on the tail of a criminal. He has been suspected for a case of murders that had erupted throughout London. You remember the murders being quite violent. He would take the victims to a pub or something of the sorts and bludgeon them to death. The bodies would always have contorted faces and most of the head collapsed in on itself. It took all of your will power not to throw up. Sherlock started to examine body after body and came up with the conclusion that they all had a link- they all had children.

Anyway, so there you were running through the streets and alleys chasing a criminal in the pouring down rain. You were then walking on the rooftops and jumping from building to building- quite the workout, you thought. Sherlock slipped on the rooftop and landed in a massive puddle, making you laugh despite of the situation. Sherlock still carried on chasing the criminal once he found his bearings. You catch the criminal and hand him other to Lestrade who takes care of the formalities.

Entering 221b, you help Sherlock take his coat off as it was now drenched. You head into the kitchen to find experiments still thrown everywhere, you sigh. Seriously, when is Sherlock going to tidy up his messes? Just as you were about to put the kettle on you heard the cutest sneeze behind you. Achoo. You turn to find the source of the noise was Sherlock. That's so adorable! You felt yourself implode as your feelings grown stronger for Sherlock.

~~~ End of flashback ~~~

A painful moan can be heard from Sherlock, you and John rush to your room just in time to see Sherlock throw up. "Well, that's the worst of it gone. I'm going to go now. Goodbye (Y/N)."

"Bye John." You say. "Now, what am I going to do with you?"

A/n: I had originally started to write this when I was ill and had spare time on my hands. I kept falling asleep during the day and then went to bed and stayed up until like 4 in the morning. Whoops!