A/N: Hello chaps, hope you're all well! Another story from me and it looks like it's going to be 2 possibly 3 parts. I feel like Mycroft is always indirectly showing how he cares about Sherlock, so I thought a story about Sherlock doing the same for Mycroft would be good :) I hope you enjoy the first chapter and I apologise deeply for anything too out of character.

If you find the time to review then please do :) Thanks for reading! Xx

Caring

Sherlock growled dangerously like a trapped animal when his phone buzzed with the tenth text message he had been sent within the hour. John looked up from his newspaper and watched with a raised eyebrow as this time Sherlock decided to respond to the text, his fingers pounding on the keyboard heatedly.

"I take it Anthea hasn't given in yet?" John asked with a sigh as he folded his paper and put it on the table.

"No, or whatever the hell she's calling herself today" Sherlock replied with deep frustration. "What's that phrase people use? Out of sight out of mind" he said as he looked around for somewhere to hide his phone, before placing it under the skull on the mantelpiece.

"Yes, that is what we mere mortals would suggest" John quipped as Sherlock went back to his laptop "but I think with you it's just going to keep being a pain"

"Mmm" was Sherlock's uninterested response as he continued his research.

"What exactly does she want anyway?" John asked curiously; he hadn't asked before as only now had Sherlock started to make a real fuss about it.

"Oh, she wants me to talk to Mycroft" Sherlock replied with lack of concern and a flippant hand wave "Apparently he hasn't stopped working for three days straight and that's bothering her for some reason"

"Well I should think so" John frowned "He's probably not getting any rest…"

Sherlock swivelled around in his chair to frown back at John "So what? You know that when I'm on a case I don't stop for days and I'm perfectly fine" he said this in a slightly gloating manner as if he had a much stronger stamina than Mycroft and therefore his brother was weak in comparison.

John rolled his eyes "You're not, just fine, you leave it to me to make sure you don't collapse!" he argued and Sherlock simply sniffed in disproval before turning back around and pretending to become engrossed with work again. "And unfortunately your body is quite use to it" the doctor continued "Clearly Mycroft isn't or else Anthea wouldn't be so worried"

Sherlock paused and straightened up in his chair. "A fair observation" he stated calmly, and for a moment John thought he had won but then; "coming from you anyway, but I'm still not going, I have more important things to do"

"More important than the well-being of your own brother?" John asked with a hint of surprise in his tone. Sure, the brothers fought, but Sherlock couldn't hate Mycroft that much, could he?

"If Anthea is so worried then she will sort it" Sherlock stated a little coldly, and that was that.

John simply sighed and went to make himself a cup of tea; he honestly didn't know why he even bothered to try and reason with Sherlock sometimes.

Once John was in the other room, Sherlock stopped scrolling through his laptop and sat back in his chair, crossing one leg over the other and placing his hands together under his chin like he always did when he was thinking hard.

It would be so unlike Mycroft to take poor care of himself, God knows he'd scolded Sherlock enough over the years for doing the same thing, so the younger Holmes knew whatever his brother must be working on now was of the upmost importance, probably of importance to the nation. It was also clear by the number of times Anthea had texted him throughout the day – thirty four to be exact – that Mycroft's condition must be bad and getting worse.

The fact Anthea had not called Sherlock would imply she was staying in the same room as Mycroft most of the time, not just to work but also to keep an eye on him and probably pester him to take a break, but Mycroft was just as stubborn as Sherlock. However, Anthea herself must be fairly rested if she could text coherently and systematically, although it could also be down to several years with a BlackBerry addiction.

Even with these facts Sherlock remained reluctant to actually go and talk to his brother because there were plenty of times he had needed Mycroft when he was younger, but his brother had been away at university or working.

Mycroft rarely made time for Sherlock when he first left and that was when they had started to grow apart. Sherlock had felt abandoned, and although he silently appreciated Mycroft's efforts to make it up to him – like the extra security precautions – he still couldn't forgive his brother for the months of not making contact. That was when the drug use had started… Besides, Sherlock also particularly loathed Mycroft's overprotectiveness at times, just like when he was trying to convenience Sherlock to take better care of himself.

John came back into the room moments later, and Sherlock quickly went back to work as he didn't want the doctor to know that Anthea's messages had finally managed to distract him. Doesn't mean I care though Sherlock told himself vehemently.

"Anthea is texting me now" John said as he strode over and practically waved his phone in Sherlock's face. "This is ridiculous, we are going to Mycroft's" he said in a tone which Sherlock suspected he'd used in the army to give orders.

"I can't, I told you I'm busy" Sherlock said.

"Sherlock, you haven't even got a case! You're just looking for trouble" John retorted.

"And that's exactly what I'll get if I go and see Mycroft, and it's not the kind of trouble I want" the younger Holmes argued back.

John sighed and ran a hand down his face. "You know, whenever I text Mycroft to tell him that you haven't slept or eaten in so long he always comes" John said. "Might take a while sometimes, but he always gets here"

"Well that's his job isn't it?" Sherlock asked with confusion; he wasn't too familiar with the conventional family dynamics "he is the elder brother so it is his job to worry, I am the younger so it is my job to let him and to annoy him"

John just looked wild-eyed and speechless for a moment. "Well then your definition isn't complete" he finally said. "Sometimes it can work the other way, sometimes Mycroft needs you to show that you care about him"

"Really?" Sherlock said scrunching up his nose; he wasn't particularly fond of this new concept.

"Yes" John breathed "Like I said, Mycroft may not say it out loud but he always shows that he cares about you, in fact he told me…"

"Told you?" Sherlock repeated, now giving his friend his full attention.

"When I first met Mycroft he told me that he worried about you, constantly" John said "And I've always wondered if he was being sarcastic or if it was just because he had something to gain but…I think it's because he genuinely worries and he cares about you"

Sherlock considered this for a moment and again John thought he had won, but as always Sherlock had to rain on his metaphorical parade.

"Well he has always been a bit of a drama queen" the younger Holmes said "For someone who is not found of feelings he can get so emotional sometimes"

John sighed; he gave up. "Well, I'm going" he said, grabbing his jacket and pulling it on "Maybe Mycroft will listen to a doctor's advice…"

"Oh please" Sherlock scoffed "Mycroft is as much likely to listen to you as he is to our mother, which is never by the way" he claimed "And I don't see why Anthea would think he'd listen to me either…"

"Well, you'll never know" John said as he put his phone in his pocket.

"Never know what?" Sherlock asked with a frown.

John paused, and then smiled dangerously to himself. Oh, he knew how much Sherlock hated not knowing.

"Well, I just mean that if you don't even try to talk to Mycroft you'll never know if you could have been the one to change his mind or not" John said with a shrug of nonchalance "but if you don't care…"

"Hang on…" Sherlock butted in "Is that a challenge?" he asked.

"I'm not saying it's anything" John said innocently "Anyway, I'm going now" he turned to leave.

"Wait" Sherlock said sharply, his tone suggesting he was now both intrigued and embarrassed. "I'll…" he rolled his eyes "I'll come with you"

"Good" John smiled.

"But I want you to know it's not because you convinced me or because I'm worried" Sherlock said as he jumped from his seat and pointed at John "It's simply because I want Anthea to stop bothering me and having to hide my phone is the most inconvenient solution"

"Right" John said with a smug smile, indicating her clearly didn't believe Sherlock at all and the detective just scowled at him. "I'll go haul a cab then, shall I?" the doctor said and left the flat.

Sherlock went to the kitchen and grabbed his coat and scarf from the back of the chair. He pulled the garments on and then scanned the rest of the kitchen. Ah yes, Mrs Hudson had brought them up a homemade cake earlier on, currently sitting on the counter in all its glory. Not our housekeeper indeed Sherlock thought as he snatched up the box containing the cake and then went to meet John downstairs.

"Why are you bringing that with you?" the doctor asked just as a taxi pulled over.

"Mycroft is even sulkier than usual when he's hungry" Sherlock explained "And I know how to get around my brother"

John wasn't exactly so what to say to that, so he and Sherlock silently climbed into the back of the cab and headed through the busy streets of London to Mycroft's house.