Mycroft sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"You will be sent home with the proper dosages of morphine in order for you to recover. Your cheque is in your coat pocket, which is hanging on a hook at your front door. You will be able to leave today. I will retrieve the nurse for you to sign the discharge papers."

You just nod, completely out of it. Mycroft stands to leave but pauses movement.

"I have cleared your schedule until you are able to continue your work. Do get better. You are important to MI6." Mycroft leaves the room, your fuzzy mind trying to comprehend the meaning laced within his words.

You await the arrival of your discharge papers and Mycroft impatiently.

Finally, the door silently opens. The elder Holmes brother steps through, papers in hand. He gracefully steps to the side of your bed, and places the papers on the table beside you. He moves the table so that you may reach it.

"While you recuperate, I will station guards near your home. As I mentioned prior, you are a valuable asset to MI6, and your safety is our top priority at this point," Mycroft says. My eyes wander to the discharge papers. I sigh.

"Well, if I didn't know any better, I'd say that you care for me, Mr. Holmes," I say, turning my gaze to Mycroft.

"You know that I do not partake in such silly thoughts," Mycroft says, clearly flustered by my statement. I smirk, nodding slowly.

"I will prove you wrong, Mr. Holmes. Trust me, I'll get you to see what I see," I say, leaning back into the uncomfortable pillows for a brief moment and closing my eyes. Mycroft sighs.

"Just sign the damned papers and stop saying such foolish nonsense!" Mycroft exclaims. I peek an eye open, smiling to myself for having managed to rile him into becoming defensive.

"And now you're getting defensive! You know, if I...Oh, you know what? I'm on drugs, so I'm just going to tell you. I find it endearing that you care for me, whether you're willing to admit it or not," I say.

And with that, I sign the papers and get ready to leave.