The Road of Uncertainty
Summary: A call, the same as all the rest to Mycroft Holmes. What will happen to him when he realizes that his brother will be his undoing? Who will be there to comfort him when the night is darkest and road uncertain? Takes place after The Sign Of Three.
A/N: This Story is based off one of my others called The Road to Ruin and is the basic plot of that story from the POV's of Mycroft and Lestrade who were mentioned by never actually seen. As a small warning now if you didn't already guess this will definitely have Mystrade as it was established in the other story that the two are already living together. This can be a standalone fic; it is not necessarily a requirement to read The Road to Ruin to understand this story if anything it may even be considered a bit of a prequel. WARNING Drug Abuse and Overdose are a themes mentioned in this story, if you don't like please don't read. I apologise if anyone finds the either Lestrade or Mycroft are out of character. Now that's all out of the way let's get on with the fic shall we!
Disclaimer: I do not in any way shape or form own BBC Sherlock nor do I make any profit from writing this. I will take credit for this Plot Bunny that popped in after finishing my other story.
Good God man, don't they know the time. Mycroft groaned inwardly as he fumbled to find his phone on his night stand.
It should be illegal to call someone at this time of night on a work day. Mycroft thought as he finally found the elusive cellular device.
"Mycroft Holmes, to whom am I speaking with." Mycroft responded in his usually cool demeanor.
"Good evening Mr. Holmes I apologise for the lateness of the hour. I am Dr. Jillian Evans from St. Barth. Teaching Hospital, I currently have a patient here by the name of William Scott Sherlock Holmes. You are currently listed as his emergency contact and heath care proxy." A Professional sounding young woman stated from the other end.
Oh God Sherlock what have gotten yourself into this time? Mycroft silently wondered as he asked.
"May I inquire to the reason my brother is currently in your care you seemed to have failed to mention it."
"Oh, yes of course your brother was brought in about fifteen minutes ago by ambulance due to a suspected overdose. It says here in his medical history that this is not his first. He is currently in critical condition and I will need you here at the hospital as you are his health care proxy." The doctor responded diligently.
"Oh dear, I'll be there as soon as possible thank you for the call, take excellent care of him." Mycroft replied sadly and full of thought.
Mycroft made a quick start from his bed, heading toward his closet.
Oh Sherlock what have you done.
Greg was woken by a sudden jolt from his partner's side of the bed; he lazily rolled over to see Mycroft heading towards his closet moving double time.
"What's going on, where's the fire?" Greg asked in a drowsy voice.
"Sherlock's OD and I have to go to Bart's now. You can stay here if you like I know you have work in the morning I'll understand, he is my brother after all." Mycroft replied quickly as he was buttoning up his waist coat.
"Like hell." Greg groaned as he sat himself up and turned on the ceiling light.
Greg moved with fast but long strides around the bed to look into his half of closet. He grabbed something that at least looked work appropriate and began getting dress.
From the bathroom he heard Mycroft call a question.
"Are you driving or shall I call for the car to meet us around front."
Greg thought about this for a minute.
Chances are we'll be at the hospital for the rest of the night and then I'll have to get straight to the office. That and we can get to Bart's faster if I can put my lights on"
"I'll drive; I'm going to bring my car around I'll see you in a minute." He called as he ran down the steps to the lower floor.
What the hell were you thinking Sherlock?
Lights flashing, car headlights blinding him as they pasted, all Mycroft wanted was to wake up and it all be a dream. But it wasn't and running from that reality would be of no use to him now.
Oh God, I to have to call John and tell him. Ugh this is last thing I need right now, but I owe it to him he was able to keep Sherlock away from this life even if it was only for awhile. I'll have to call Mummy and Father too oh what a happy call it will be for them, having to drop their vacation over Sherlock again.
He slowly pulled his phone out of his inside breast pocket and scrolled through the contact list. John H Watson.
Here we go.
The phone rang a few times before there was an answer of a groggy...
"Hello"
"My Apologises for the hour John but this is news of the worst kind. Sherlock has overdosed, and has been taken to Bart's in critical condition from his flat about half an hour ago." Mycroft replied in business like tone in hopes of preventing his emotional state being revealed to the good doctor.
"Overdose what do mean? Sherlock's been clean since I met him, it's only been a month since the wedding how could he have hit rock bottom that fast." John questioned with confusion.
"Your guess is as good as mine John. He always was an over achiever, clearly now at the wrong things. I'll be arriving at the hospital shortly I just thought you ought to know, you being his bestfriend and all." Mycroft stated in what he hoped was a level headed sounding voice.
Greg's car turned into Bart's Parking lot with speed and precision, finding an empty spot close to the front door the lights went off and Mycroft returned his attention to his current conversation.
"Great. Bloody perfect this is exactly what I needed." John grumbled.
"Nobody needed this John but we don't get a say in the matter." Mycroft sighed back at him
"Thanks for the call Mycroft." The good doctor responded curtly.
"I wish I could say it was my pleasure." Mycroft answered, then hitting the end call button on his phone.
The minute Mycroft told that receptionist who he was, he's was carted away somewhere to talk to Sherlock's doctor. Leaving me to sit here like a twat in the waiting room, oh happy day.
Although Mycroft seems to being putting on a pretty brave face about it, I know how much he cares about Sherlock and this isn't his first dealing with Sherlock almost dying.
But it's only a mask; underneath he must be going nuts, having to deal with his pain and maybe even a little guilt somewhere in there alone.
Not this time, he will have me. I will be his rock no matter what happens live or die which ever road Sherlock takes he will not bare his pain alone.
As these thoughts past through his mind Mycroft had just turned the corner a look of obvious worry weighing down his face.
Shit not good, it must be bad if his mask was able to be broken so easily or maybe he just too tried to care about appearances anymore.
"He's stable for now, whether or not he will stay that way is still up in the air." Mycroft sigh as began pacing loudly.
"Well it's not the greatest prognosis but stable is alive." Greg replied softly as he watched his umbrella wielding titian pace back and forth loudly.
Unable to stand the silence that then ensued Greg walked out of building Mycroft in toe who once again began to pace loudly, only now with cigarette in hand. He decided he needed to do something, so he whipped out his phone and called Philip Anderson. The phone only rang once before the connection went through.
"What do you need?" Anderson chirped at Lestrade, it almost sounded as if Christmas had come early for him.
"I need you to go search Sherlock Holmes flat for me." He responded quickly.
"Why on Earth would you need me to do that?" Anderson questioned.
"Because Sherlock Holmes just overdosed and I want to make sure that temptation be removed from his path when he recovers." Lestrade answered with a slight edge.
All the while Mycroft pacing had only gotten louder since the beginning of his conversation with Anderson. He had even taken to twirling his umbrella around at this point.
Must not want to hear anyone talk about it right now, maybe if he would talk to me about he might feel better.
Anderson had been talking during this realization and Greg quickly cut him short.
"Just get over there with some of your fan club members or whatever and get it going." The angry tone to his voice led Anderson to understand that the conversation was now over and he quickly hung up.
Greg did the same and quickly pocketed his phone.
Oh well here goes nothing.
Did he really need to call that nut, oh well it was a good idea to have someone start searching his flat. Damn I should have thought of it what the hell is getting into me.
Suddenly taken from his thoughts, he noticed that Greg had ended his phone call and was now staring at him. To be honest it was quite unnerving.
"Yes?" Mycroft asked as he slowed his pacing and stopped his umbrella twirling.
"You know, you can talk about how you're feeling to me right? That's kind of why they call it a "relationship"." Greg responded in his casual matter of fact tone.
"There is nothing to discus."Mycroft replied curtly his mask returning to his.
"Uh yes there is. Your brother is lying in a hospital bed and he may never open his eyes again. If you're trying to tell me that that isn't hurting you, you're more full of shit than I thought possible." Greg answered his frustration clearly getting the better of him; surprisingly enough Mycroft actually took the bait.
"What do you want me to do Greg?! Do you want me to cry? Do you want to scream and punch a wall? This is not the first time I have had to deal with the fact that my brother is on death's doorstep thank you very much!" Mycroft screamed back as he stopped pacing and moved closer to Lestrade.
"No! I just want you to talk to me! To tell me what you're feeling and what's going through your mind!" He responded heatedly as let his eye bore into Mycroft's
At that moment tears swelled in Mycroft's eyes.
He just wants to help. He just wants to be here for me. He wants to feel closer to me, to understand just how much pain I am in.
He couldn't hold back the tears for a second longer he finally burst into horrible sobs. To this Greg wrapped his arms firmly around his Partner pulling Mycroft's head into his chest and just let him cry.
"It's going to be okay, Sherlock is as stubborn as they come, he won't be leaving you without someone to worry over anytime soon." Greg whispered in his ear.
"I love you, I really truly do." Mycroft sobbed.
"I know, and I love you to." Greg whispered softly into his titian's hair as placed a soft on the top of his head.
With Sherlock's road so uncertain, it's nice to be able to have someone there to help guide me along mine.
A/N: Congratualtions you have made it to the end of the story! Wow that was actually harder to write than I thought it was going to be. If you want to know how it turns out for Sherlock in the end you will just have to go read The Road to Ruin which moves between John's and Sherlock's POV's. I will admit this is my first fic with any romance in it so please forgive if there's not enough to it. I was thinking of a moment inside Sherlock's room later after Mycroft's little cry but decided that it would better off in the possible squeal to The Road to Ruin. Hope you enjoyed this little spin off or Prequel whatever you would like to call it, I really enjoyed writing this story and to those who are fans of Mystrade there will be more to come with a possible multi-chapter story in the works. Just a little aside I hope that Mycroft didn't end up seeming too similar to McCoy from Star Trek. I hope you have a lovely day where ever you are and if you have the time leave a little love in a review; my Plot Bunny eats them for second breakfast!
-Someday-You-Will-Die