"I know you think I'm a soulless bastard some days John-"
"Not at all. Especially not after St. Bart's."
Sherlock smiled, glad they had finally come to an understanding of those events. It took long enough, but John finally understood why he did it, why he jumped.
"But...It was either let my mother die or never be able to see her again. Simple as that. I must never have contact with her, but she is safe."
John sat in amazement as he listened to the story.
"Does Mycroft.. Does he know? Does he have contact with her?"
Sherlock rolled his eyes, "What my brother does is none of my business. I could care less."
With that, he flipped up the paper and continued to read.
Mycroft had kidnapped him again... well, not really kidnapped this time... in fact, since the whole "Scandal" with the woman, they frequently got together at cafe's just to talk, share tips on how to handle the younger Holmes.
"And of course, Mummy... He hardly ever talks about it."
John nodded, but then remembered the conversation from a few days previous.
"Actually, he was telling me about that the other day... amazing really."
Mycroft's brow furrowed a bit.
"Indeed?... what exactly did he say? As I mentioned, he rarely touches on that subject."
"... Well, he was just telling me about the... how he can't see her anymore. How he gave up seeing her just to make sure she was safe."
Mycroft nodded, and didn't speak for a while. John watched him stir his coffee, the undeniable feeling he had said something wrong.
"John, if you were faced with the choice of never seeing your loved one again, or having them die... which would you choose?"
John couldn't help but frown at such a obvious question.
"I wouldn't see them again. Better to be separated than know they're dead. Dead, they cant come back. Separated, you know their safe. Its a comfort, really."
"So much so, Sherlock has convinced himself that's the situation he is in with our mother..."
Silence surrounded them, even in the busy cafe, as the realization dawned on John.
"Yes, John. Our mother passed on years ago."
"And he... he's convinced himself..?"
"Yes... isn't he lucky? My brother may give me credit for being smarter, but I wish I had been as inventive as him..."
John reached out to lay a comforting hand over Mycroft's, and was genuinely shocked and please when he didn't pull back.