The reunion of the two greatest minds, and John.
Don't look at me, I don't own anything.
"What have you done to my walls! That's going onto your rent young man!" Mrs. Husdon called, stomping down the stairs
He smiled at the little yellow face painted onto the wall, eyeing the bullet holes that made the outline, Wonderful he thought, smile fading he gave a sigh bored... were his last thoughts before his windows blew in.
John woke with a start, groggy and sick he leaned over the side of the bed and hurled, Something isn't right... he thought as he sat up, wiping vomit from the corner of his lips. He stayed at a motel that night, the last day he and Sherlock had got into a fight over jobs, how they'll pay the rent and John had left in a fit of anger yelling over his shoulder as he slammed the door; "I'm staying a motel!"
Sherlock had stood on the top of the steps that night, watching as he called back; "Fine!"
Now John lay awake in an ugly motel bed stomach churning, head spinning he ran hands over his face with a sigh, Oh Sherlock what have you done now? He sighed and stood, careful of the pile of vomit that lay in a heap on the ugly brown rug, Well, atleast now it has some color...
His eyes fluttered open, shards of glass and debre lay scattered around him. His cheek stung, reaching up with a shaking hand he ran fingers across it; he winced, handing pulled back for him to examine the crimson liquid that cascaded down his pale skin; Oh... He sat up, dazed and confused he looked about the room the smile still painted on the wall, he set his hand down only to cut himself on another piece of glass, "Ow..." he gasped, pulling his hand away.
Carefuly he placed his hand down once more and pushed himself up, first to his knees then onto his feet. He staggered a bit as he took his first step, a wave of dizzyness threatened to put him down again, "John?" he called out.
"John, Joh-" he turned, staring at the glassless windows, "Hello, what have we here?" he stumbled over to the windows, an unsteady hand reaching out to examine a piece of wood hanging off the window sill, "I think... I shall make a call..." he turned and with the steadyness of a drunk man, walked off to find his cell phone.
John dressed quickly, his mind in the clouds as he fussed and worried over the stupid insensitive man, Oh Sherlock, what is it that you could possibly have done NOW? he stepped into his shoes, fixed them over his heels and opened the door only to be greeted by a strange man, John stared up at him, "Hello, John I take it?" he gave a weak nod, "Good, come with me." and with that the man turned and headed towards the vehicle that parked itself infront of John's motel door.
"Uh, before that would it be a bother if I could, before we leave, um... Could I return the key first?" he gave the man a sheepish grin.
"Of course, but hurry along, we have somewhere to be." the grimly dressed man opened the door for the doctor, patiently he waited.
Sherlock stared at himself in the mirror over the fireplace, his hair was messy; Is that a tangle? his face scarred by the glass; I forgot to wash my face... he blinked, eyes focused on a dark mark on his neck; John... Where ever could you have run off to this time... he turned away from the mirror and stared out the empty windows, Come on, John, or you'll keep our guest waiting... He checked his wrist watch He should be here any minute now...
"Uh, so... Where are we going?" John turned his attention away from the window to look at the dashinly dressed man.
"For a visit, why does it matter?"
"Because, well... Nevermind."
He turned his attention back onto the outside world, watching the buildings and people quickly pass by, startled suddenly by his phone he gave a sigh and fished it out of his pocket "Who is it?"
John looked up at the man, "Uh... A friend."
"Sherlock?"
"How did you-"
"Nevermind, answer it."
John furrowed his brows and clicked the little green button, putting it to his ear he gave a sigh "Yes?"
"What? No hello? Friends can't call their friends?"
"Okay, okay I'm sorry, hello. Now what is it."
"Where are you?"
"In a taxi."
"Going?"
"What does it matter?"
"Going where, John."
The man reached over then swiping the phone from John's hands "Sherlock! Hello dear - What? No! What kind of person do you think I am? Pardon? Surely you can't be tha- Sherlock? Hello?" he gave a shrug and hung the phone up, "Oh well, we're almost there."
"Where exactly?"
"You'll see..."
Sherlock paced around the room, "Dear, maybe you should sit down? I could make you some tea, how about-"
"Mrs. Hudson! Could you make up some tea? I'm expecting guests soon."
"Oh... Um... Alrighty dear."
They pulled up to John's flat, he looked at the man curiously "How did you-"
"Lets go up and have a visit, shall we?" the man opened the door and hopped out, he headed towards the door and gave it a knock, it swung open. John opened the car door, he hopped out and headed for the flat door, "I'm back!" he called.
Sherlock pulled the door open, eyes widened as he stared into the eyes of his arch enemy.
"Sherlock! Dear brother! How have you been, come lets have ourselves a visit, shall we?" he gave his brother a smile before letting himself in, rushing past Sherlock and leaving John behind.
"John... What have you done..."
"He's your... Brother?"
"Yes, it's obvious, isn't it?"
"Well, no, not really." he crossed his arms over his chest, giving Sherlock a stern look.
"You were at an Motel last night, why?"
"How did you-"
"Nevermind, let me introduce you to my brother." Sherlock turned and ran up the stairs.
John sighed, he entered their flat, closing the door behind him, "This isn't going to end well..." he sighed as the door closed with a click.
I got bored. I'm proud of myself though, finished this an hour and a half before work!
So yeah, this is just a stupid story where John meets Sherlock's brother, I know he met his brother in, what? The second episode of the first season, but I based it around the Third episode, I thought that it would make a cute story, seeing as I've had writer's block for the past FEW FRIGGIN WEEKS. AGH.
Anyways, I hope you enjoyed!
-bK