Stubborn - Sherlock x Reader

You coughed for what seemed like the millionth time that day. You had lost count.
Whatever the number of coughs, to Sherlock it was too many. 

You could see his agitation in the nearly imperceptible shift of the corner of his mouth. When you first met Sherlock, you thought he was emotionless. The only thrill he seemed to experience came from the solving of a case. Over time, you'd learned that that was not the case. He was harder to read than most, but his emotions were there.

"You're sick, [First Name], you must see a doctor." 
"This from the man who wouldn't go to the hospital after being stabbed three times? Unbelievable."
"I was undercover."
"Your LIFE was in danger. I've just got a bit of a cough, Sherlock. The only doctor I will see is John."

Sherlock frowned at your stubbornness, but stayed quiet as you were taken by another coughing fit. John was more open about his annoyance, muttering about stubborn fools and how you'd be the death of yourselves and him. You tried your best to suppress your cough as John took your temperature, but to no avail.

Though you would never admit it, you felt terrible. 

"39.4, [First Name], you really should see a doctor." John said, measuring out some foul-smelling liquid medicine.
"You are a doctor, John." You rebutted, flinching away from the medicine. John placed it into your hand with a severe look and you frowned, taking it in one gulp. You were willing to do anything to feel better... Anything that didn't involve leaving Sherlock's bed.

John left the room and you burrowed down into your boyfriend's blankets. Normally he would be annoyed at you for messing up his bed. Today, he decided to allow it. You fell asleep wrapped in his blankets. Sherlock was a fixed structure at the edge of the bed. When he called John in to check on you, he stayed there. He didn't touch you, only watched, but that in itself, was a miracle. You drifted in and out of feverish dreams that left you gasping and crying out in fear and pain. 

When you woke up, he helped you drink water, following John's orders to the letter.

"You are too stubborn." He told you, pushing your hair away from your sweat slicked forehead. He had not given up on trying to get you to the hospital, and he was not above forcing you to go. It would be simple to pick you up and carry you to the hospital, particularly considering the fact that you were barely conscious the past few days. 

"I am no-" Another round of coughing took you and Sherlock was at your side.

John came in with another dose of your medicine and Sherlock left the room. You watched him leave with a frown on your face, but you said nothing. After taking the foul medicine John insisted on giving you every few hours, you drifted into a light sleep.

"You've not left that room in four days, Sherlock." John said as he took his customary seat in the livingroom. Sherlock frowned at the doctor. He should have known that the man couldn't leave his business well enough alone.

"I'm well aware." Sherlock replied curtly. John tried to hide his smirk. Though you and Sherlock had been dating for some time, he'd wondered about his friend's ability to express emotion. He saw now that his concern was unnecessary. 

"She's a sweet girl, Sherlock. Do take care of her." John said. Sherlock frowned and stood, walking back to where you were sleeping.

"I plan on it." 

Some time during the night, when chills wrack your body, you feel Sherlock close to you. His touch is balm to your feverish skin, soothing your chills.

"I should make you suffer." He murmurs against your neck. His voice is flat, but you can feel the faintest smile in his words. You lean into his embrace and close your eyes.

"You can't be mean to me, Sherlock, I'm sick." You informed him. A low chuckle escaped his lips and he pulled the blankets around you.

"Stubborn girl, sleep."