The silence was deafening as the three men occupied the small living room space of 221B. Sherlock's eyes wondered the room, avoiding eye contact with his brother who stood arms crossed against the doorframe of the room while John sat opposite his friend with his notes, as he always would for a client. However, this client was not in any need of help from the famous detective. Instead, it was the detective that required the help from his client. But, for now, Mycroft had no intention of answering anything Sherlock desired to know and his stubbornness was preventing any of them from proceeding.

"This is ridiculous," Mycroft stated. "I will not be treated as one of your clients."

"You are not leaving this room so I suggest you take a seat." Sherlock answered with a monotone voice, his focus remaining away from his brother.

"Sherlock I understand if you are upset with me- "

"Oh?" Sherlock interrupted as he sat up in his seat, his gaze now on his brother. "What gave it away?"

"Mycroft," John spoke up. "I think its best if you do as Sherlock says."

"I'm not sitting down."

Sherlock narrowed his eyes. "Then get out."

Mycroft became silent after that, uncrossing his arms and slowly taking a seat and laying his umbrella beside him. He straightened his back and placed his hands on his knees.

"Alright, what is it you want to know?"

Sherlock straightened his own back and placed his arms on his armrests.

"I want the truth."

"Sherlock, I wanted to tell you- "

"So, tell me."

Mycroft shifted in his chair as he glanced at John. "Dr Watson, this is a private matter. I would suggest that you leave us be."

"John stays." Sherlock's tone was direct, causing John to drag his attention away from his notepad.

Mycroft suddenly turned hostile as he leaned forward. "This is family."

"That's why he stays!"

Mycroft's eyes narrowed as he leaned back against his chair, letting out a frustrated sign. He noticed in his peripheral vision a small grin that appeared on Johns lips. Mycroft decided to keep to himself about the information. "Before I tell you, how much do you already know?"

"That you are aware of a man named Sherrinford and that our family is closely linked."

"Don't forget the fact that someone tried to kill me because of that name." John spoke up. This information was new to Mycroft.

"Someone attacked you?" Mycroft asked with genuine confusion and interest.

"I'm lucky I got out of there alive. If it wasn't for Mary, I would be dead right now."

"I need to know," Sherlock spoke, his voice hard. "Who is he? Who is Sherrinford? And what relation does he have to us?"

Mycroft seemed to take a while to answer, as if the question was something that he could not answer. But despite that, he let out a small breath through his nose and began to answer.

"Sherrinford is our youngest brother."

The statement flew by Sherlock for a moment before it finally reached his ears and he began to process the information. It wasn't long before his face showed the same amount of shock that his mind held.

"Brother?" John asked. "You have a third brother?"

"Yes. He was born around the time that Sherlock first joined University and I was given a position at the British government, a role that Uncle Rudy left to me before his passing. The news was a shock to me as well when I first found out."

"So, wait," John sat up and leaned closer to Mycroft. "You knew about Sherrinford before Sherlock and you didn't tell him? Not even his parents told him?"

"There was a reason," Mycroft glanced at Sherlock who was eerily quiet throughout. "Sherrinford was…difficult."

John frowned. "Difficult?"

Mycroft nodded. "I saw it first-hand. Our mother and father were finding it difficult to look after him. When Sherrinford turned twelve his mental state worsened and it became clear that our parents didn't have the capabilities that they once had to look after another child. Even to this extent. I suggested he would be looked after by a capable family while undergoing medical help."

"What was his diagnosis?"

"Sherrinford had extreme hallucinations and occasionally he would talk to himself. We believed he had schizophrenia and anxiety."

"Well, ok so he was unwell and he got help. But that doesn't explain why Sherlock wasn't told."

"I admit I left it too late. My original plan was to wait until Sherlock was ready to listen. At the time, he was...distant. I thought the news would hinder him further." Once again, Sherlock remained silent with his face somewhat staring at nothing. Nonetheless, he continued, "So I kept the news from him until I believed that the time was right. But then there were…complications."

"Like what?"

"Moriarty."

With the mention of that name, Sherlock suddenly turned his head to Mycroft. He was now suddenly alert.

"Moriarty?" John questioned, knowing that Sherlock was wondering the same thing he was. "What does he have to do with Sherrinford?"

"Sherlock, I know you're aware of Adam."

Sherlock frowned. "Moriarty's network?"

"The network was coded Adam and was controlled by one person. In case Moriarty was inactive, the network would command the rest until Moriarty was available to continue."

John shook his head, dreading where this was going. "You're not suggesting…"

"I am certain. Sherrinford was Adam."

Sherlock didn't react. John was becoming more uneasy with Sherlock's reactions. Or rather, the lack of.

"Sherrinford worked for Moriarty?"

"Against his will."

"What? Like, he was forced?"

Mycroft took in a sharp breath. "Sherrinford was smart. His levels of intellect were equal to Sherlock. However, due to his illness, he was easy to manipulate. It was too late to act when I discovered that Sherrinford was missing. He was taken by Moriarty and used as a weapon against me."

"What did they do to him?" Sherlock spoke in a low voice tainted with anger. The tone didn't hesitate in making Mycroft feel threatened.

"After Moriarty had killed himself, Sherlock spent the last two years taking down the network. Obviously, Adam was harder to find. A few days ago, the network shut down. We had found Adam."

"What happened to him?" Sherlock repeated.

Mycroft rubbed his hands nervously on his lap.

"He was found locked away with several bruises on his arms and legs. He had endured abuse from Moriarty's henchmen."

"Jesus…" John leaned in his chair, taken back by the horrific news. His eyes turned to Sherlock, knowing that the news was hurting him the most. Once again, Sherlock didn't react, but it didn't take a genius to know the extent of his emotions.

"Where, er…where is he now?" John asked, still wrapping his head around the news.

"He is currently at Scotland yard. We've reached out to his foster family. But we have received news of their unfortunate end. They were killed only a month ago,"

"So, he has nowhere to go?"

"For the time being."

"So, the images we saw that were broadcasted. The images of Moriarty. They were pre-recorded? Moriarty is actually dead?"

"Yes. We know that now. It was a scenario created by Moriarty's network to re-spark the fear that Moriarty left. But it is true that Moriarty is, and most certainly is, dead."

"I want to see him."

John and Mycroft turned their gazes to Sherlock who, for the first time in a while, spoke clearly to them. Mycroft became uncomfortable by the suggestion.

"Sherlock- "

"I want to see my brother."

"I cannot allow that."

"Why?" an outburst erupted from Sherlock. "You never told me of my little brother and now you insist on keeping him away from me!"

"You don't understand! Sherrinford is not in the right mind to see anyone. My, the very sight of you might give him a heart attack."

"He is my brother! Our brother! I deserve to know if he is ok!"

"And I am saying that it is impossible at this current time!"

"Boys, please." John spoke calmly; there was no use in shouting over them. "This is about Sherrinford's wellbeing. If what you're saying is true, then he needs support from his family more than ever. And that means from Sherlock as well. He deserves to see him, Mycroft. He's family."

"Dr Watson, I understand you're a caring man and that very nature accompanies your occupation. But as the oldest brother I must think about his wellbeing the most. Sherrinford was taken by Moriarty and manipulated into working against me. I have no idea how he will react when he sees the very person that he was meant to despise. Even if he knew that it was his brother. He could very well do the same for Sherlock. I have to think about Sherlock's safety."

"So, I must fear my little brother?" Sherlock spoke angry.

"In this instance, yes!"

"He's in bloody Scotland yard! The police will protect Sherlock if anything goes wrong." John raised his voice, but his calm nature remained intact.

"Even so- "

"I've had enough of this." Sherlock became inpatient and stood suddenly to grab his coat.

"What on earth do you think you're doing?" Mycroft stood also, his gaze following Sherlock.

"To see my brother. With or without your consent."

"I forbid it."

"Then stop me!" Sherlock burst out, glaring right back at his older brother. "Because no matter what you do Mycroft, I will see to it that my brother is cared for. I don't care if you send the whole of Scotland Yard or even the entire British military! Sherrinford is my brother and I won't rest until I see that he is safe with my own eyes!"

There was dead silence in the room. The two brothers stared at each other, attempting to make their statements clear. But in the end, Mycroft backed down. His demeanour straightened and he let out one long exhale.

"Caring is not an advantage."

"In this instance, I can make an exception."

Mycroft scoffed and shook his head. "There are no words that will convince you otherwise?"

"No. And no words will." He took one last look at Mycroft before grabbing his scarf and heading out of the flat.