Sherlock:
For the past couple of hours, you had been scouring your flat, helplessly searching for a single item of clothing. You could not find it anywhere. As you buried your head deeper into your wardrobe, you heard Sherlock inhale sharply and deeply signing your attention. He rubbed his temples impatiently until you finally turned around.
"What??" You questioned, aware that he was clearly irritated.
"What do you mean, what?! (Y/n) you have been making an absolute mess for the past hour! It is very hard to think when there is flying clothing articles racing past my head!"
You stopped your search, letting your hands fall limply by your side with defeat. You ran your fingers through your slightly flustered hair and walked over to sit beside him on the sofa. His shoulder was warming, not like his usual 'ice cold' front he puts up to defend himself.
"Look... I'm sorry. I was just looking for something"

"Something important, surveying the mess you've caused" Sherlock stated, laughing dryly

"It's my grandma's jumper... It's far too big for me but... I wear it when I feel a bit down... Work has been chaos lately and I just...I miss her so much..."

Sherlock bit his lip sensing there was real pain crawling it's way up your throat and slithering into your speech like a lizard. He tried his best to comfort you. He 'tenderly' put his arm round you and held your shoulder tightly as you sighed producing small amounts of tears with every exhalation. Realising your condition was getting worse, he used his other hand to cradle just below your waist and allowed your head to come to rest on his fragile chest. Smiling slightly, you spoke as you felt his shirt dampen while you cried
"I'm sorry... I'm just a bit emotional at the moment it's..."

"Your grandma's birthday..." He cut you off.

You nodded your head, not even wanting to question how he knew. You just lied there, not saying a word until Sherlock broke the silence again.

"I... I know it's not quite the same but... I was rather an avid jumper wearer when I was a teenager. I think I still have a few. I was quite tall so they would undoubtably fit you. Do you want..."

"Yes" you interrupted before he could finish. "Yes, please, could I wear one of yours?..."

"Of course ..."

He gently rose from the seat, not letting you fall but gracefully slide into a pillow beside you. He returned several minutes later with a Mercury blue cable-knit which was a little bleached around the frayed cuffs of the sleeves. He walked toward you and stopped to softly pass it forward. You inspected it's inky splendour before grinning discreetly and reaching out to take it. Your grin extended as you pulled it over your head and inserted your arms.
"Good?" he asked, curiously.

"Better than good" you bit your lip as a tear cascaded from the bridge of your nose onto your lap. You couldn't believe how soft it was... It was amazing.

"Thank you Sherlock" you chocked, trying not to burst into tears again.

"Shhh.. It's ok" he whispered, smiling. He held the back of your head and once again, allowed you to rest your face -now blotchy with tears- on his chest. Your irregular, jerky breathing calmed and you fluttered off to sleep.

"I'll always be here for you... With whatever you need..." Sherlock sighed as he gazed at your sleeping beauty.
"Whatever you need..."

John:
"Oooh! Look at this one!..." You gazed in amazement at the array of cords, shirts, skirts, blouses and coats which were displayed rather haphazardly across the stalls. You had dragged John to one of those 'exotic markets' where there were clothes available from countries all over the world. John was hardly enthusiastic about the whole idea but he did love you so he humoured your adventurous side while you got the initial vivacity of buzzing out of your system. He zoned in and out of your various ramblings but decided to listed when you pulled him over to a Japanese cart selling jumpers.
"Oh my gosh! John! I've heard about these!"

"About what?"

"These jumpers! Apparently, they are very rare and are woven from a Japanese flax similar to cannabis (but not illegal) so when you wear it, it gives you a sort of 'high ora'!" You clapped your hands energetically as you foraged for a colour you liked.

"Wait wait wait... So... It's like. Drugs?"

"It'd better than drugs John... IT'S FROM JAPAAAAAN!!!"

John jumped slightly at the rather uncalled for outburst but he allowed you to get one in a bonny cerise colour with green pinstriped sleeved. You twirled around in your new purchase so that John could see it in all its splendour.

"It's... Original." He hesitated a second "I mean amazing!... Seriously, I can't believe I'm with a girl who looks like you"

You blushed a similar colour to the jumper and wrapped your arms around your boyfriend waist. You leant in and exchanged a soft kiss with him and plant in another on his cheek shortly after, giggling as you did so.
"(Y/n)... Are you high?"

"Noo... Why on earth would you think that?..."

"You just put your hands into my back pockets and ohh! Jesus Christ.... Let's get you home" now, John too was blushing as he removed your hands from his person and ushered you back to his car.

"Love youuu Johnn" you giggled girlishly as you fell into the passenger seat.

"Yes, I love you too" he smiled as he watched you methodically fiddle with the seatbelt until you finally got it to 'click'. He started the car and grinned even wider in seeing that you had fallen asleep.

"You're such a baby, sweetie..." He chuckled to himself as he drove on.

Mycroft:
"MYCROFT!!! IT'S FREEZING!!!" You hollered down the corridor as you shivered with hopelessness under your quilted duvet. It didn't take too long before you heard the patters of expensive shoes on wooden floors approaching the bedroom. Shaking his head, Mycroft peeked round the doorframe and explained
"Precious... For the last time, it is not freezing, you are sick. You need to keep warm, do you want another blanket? A hot water bottle? A jumper?"
He wandered further into the room, hands in his pockets and looked at you smiling sympathetically as your covers quivered. You peeked your head out to look at him and grinned as you replied
"Jumper... I'd like a jumper... But one of yours"

"Mine?" He asked, slightly puzzled

"Yes, yours. They are bigger and more snuggly than mine are!" You giggled and fidgeted like a child, clearly half drink on cough medicine.

"Alright precious... One of mine"

He smiled and exited the room, hands still in pockets, and went over to the large storage cupboard under the stairs where 'unwanted' or 'unused' items were thrown.  He pulled on the old, moth-eaten light cord and coughed as his movement caused a plume of dust to dance up into the air. Coughing again, he reached out into a pile of uncertainty and pulled out a leafy green coloured sweater. After shaking off the dust, Mycroft realised what it was... Sherlock had bought it for him for his 16th birthday. The initial gesture seemed 'brotherly', almost too good to be true from him... Sadly it was. It was a size XXXL so when Mycroft held it up to himself, Sherlock could not stop laughing. He spent several minutes in hysterics and insisted it would be a perfect fit but Mycroft just threw it into a cardboard box in shame, anger and annoyance. He wasn't an XXXL... He was barely even a large... He snapped back to reality, discarding the memory when he remembered you were still waiting for him. He shook off the remaining dust and carried it back over to your bedroom.
"Here..." He said kindly, handing you the huge jumper. "Try it on, I'm sure that will warm you up". Your body was swamped by the enormity of it all. The sleeves completely covered your hands and the area for your torso could have fit you and Mycroft inside twice over.
"Why do you have this? It's huuuge!" You giggled, squirming around in it.

"It was Sherlock's idea of a..." He stopped to clear his throat, "practical joke" he rolled his eyes, annoyed once again.

"Why does he have to be so mean?...he is such a meanie! Meanie Sherlock!" It was very clear that you were sleep deprived now, Mycroft shook his head and lifted the covers back over your body.
"Now, get some sleep (y/n). I'm sure you will get over this fever soon, as much as I want to, I'm not going to kiss you because if I got sick half of London would collapse without me" he grinned proudly and turned to leave "I love you (y/n)... Please get better soon".
He closed the door with a slight click and wandered back down the corridor. He slid his phone out of his pocket and typed a short message before putting it away and smiling confidently...

'For the record, Sherlock, I am a medium... Keep that noted for my next birthday.'

-MH

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A/n- if you get the reference I put in the John one, I actually love you! You could even say... You're my favouwite person 😍😂