I do not own this show at all. Now that that is out of the way please enjoy the story.

Mycroft stepped out into the Conservatory Garden covered from head to toe in protective clothing. It almost looked like he was wearing a diving suit without the flippers. He had on a gas mask that was designed to allow his face to be seen and his trusted umbrella was traded in for the one he only used in the Garden. Grey bees swarmed around him but he no longer had the paranoid fear of getting stung that he used to have thanks to the thickness of the suit and so he paid them no mind. He walked toward the central courtyard his umbrella swinging as he walked with a bit of arrogance in his step. A folder of cases was held under his arm a peace offering of sorts for his younger brother.

He found Sherlock in his usual spot in the main courtyard near his office window. Here the garden was at its most tame, and most resembled a garden. There was a decorative fountain that led to small man made stream that flowed out to the rest of the Garden. There were statues and benches set up that gave the illusion of a place meant to entertain guests, though no one without sinister intent would dare to entertain a guest here. Sherlock was lying down curled up on a padded bench nearly covered with climbing vines.

The dark haired man hadn't bothered changing out of his dressing gown or the t shirt and pajama pants he wore to bed. The young man was thin, thinner than he'd ever been and Mycroft feared he'd begun skipping his meals again. He lay there dead to the world a fat orange tabby he'd named Mycroft in order to annoy his brother had curled up against his chest. It purred as he absentmindedly ran his fingers through its fur, the only sigh besides the rise and fall of his chest that he was alive. He didn't turn as he heard Mycroft approach as he used to do in the earlier days of his confinement here. He didn't rage at the older man or threaten to remove the gas mask in a fit. He lay there petting the cat looking for all the world as if he did not know Mycroft was right behind him.

Mycroft stopped in front of him and leaned on his umbrella. His eyes narrowed at the sight of his younger brother dutifully ignoring him in a way that went against his nature. He put the case files down on a pedestal that had at one point housed a decorative sculpture. Now it was covered in vines and untouched case files. He scrunched his nose at the decaying papers but otherwise ignored the evidence of his brothers fading spirit. It seemed as though all his younger brother did these days was breathe in the scents of the plants and laze about. "Hello brother. Are you feeling well today?"

He received only silence in answer and Sherlock hadn't responded to him in any other way. He simply continued petting the cat not even pausing for a second. Mycroft frowned but decided to continue the conversation and hope something he did could get through to the younger man.

"I have some news for you. Project Hawthorn is being reopened you'll soon be having some more guests. More animals are being brought into the testing phase. We might even be able to get you a dog." Mycroft said hopeful for some response from the despondent lump that used to be his little brother. He might as well have been talking to a sack of potatoes for all the response he got.

He sighed, the sound a rush of static through the mask as he felt his hopes begin to shatter yet again. "Human testing will also resume. It will be a limited trial. So far there is only one who fits the criteria for testing but here soon you'll have a friend. There will be at least one human who won't have to wear a protective suit just to talk to you."

"A friend?" Sherlock spat talking for the first time in weeks. The still form on the bench became fluid as Sherlock shot up and rounded on his brother scarring off the cat. He pointed at the older man his face twisted in anger his words dripping with vitriol and sarcasm as he stalked toward the older man. "I don't have friends Mycroft as you always say caring is a disadvantage."

"A lesson I taught you perhaps a bit well but even you cannot survive without human interaction. So I've decided to have another test subject brought in for Project Hawthorn." Mycroft said plainly as though he wasn't secretly pleased that he'd managed to get a reaction from his little brother.

"Of course you don't mean yourself I can only imagine what it would be like for you and I to spend every waking moment trapped in this prison together." Sherlock said mocking in his tone as he glared at the older man.

"This is not a prison Sherlock." Mycroft sighed resisting the urge to rub at his temple to chase away the headache brought on by his brother's actions.

Sherlock snorted. "You can call my cage whatever you like but that doesn't change what it is. If I can't leave this garden of my own free will what does that make this place?"

"I will not have this fight with you again Sherlock. You know exactly what you did to land yourself here do not blame me for the consequences your actions brought on you." Mycroft said calmly trying to be the reasonable brother.

"So it is a prison then." Sherlock said triumphantly.

"Enough of this childish behavior Sherlock, if not for me you would be dead!" Mycroft snapped harshly his umbrella stabbing the ground for emphasis.

"Everyone believes I am dead, everyone but you and the rest of my guards. I even have my own tombstone." He said flatly throwing himself back down on the bench. Mycroft the cat jumped up a second later curling onto Sherlock's chest purring loudly as he kneaded at the man's chest.

"Nonetheless I have reopened Project Hawthorn and another test subject will be brought in. You'll have a person you talk to without them fearing for their lives whenever they get too close to you. I believe that you will benefit from the presence of another human being that shares the same condition you do." Mycroft said keeping a close eye on his younger brother looking for any change in expression. He wasn't disappointed.

Sherlock sat up abruptly disturbing the cat. "Do whatever you want Mycroft I don't care. Bring someone else into this torment but do not lie to me and say you're doing this for my own good. We both know that's not true. Now get out of my cell!" He hissed through his teeth.

Mycroft smiled smugly. "As you wish Sherlock."

He turned and headed back toward the Conservatory Garden Preparation Room to get decontaminated. He opened the return entrance and let the airlock seal behind him reminding him of all the reasons he had to be careful each time he visited his brother. The bland white and grey room had to be sealed to prevent accidental poisonings and multiple decontamination showers had to be taken. He sighed and entered the first of the decontamination showers wash over him. He got out of the protection suit and gas mask leaving them for the Preparation Team to inspect, repair if needed, and further clean.

After that was through he went through a second precautionary shower as to be certain he carried none of the toxins on him. He didn't flinch as the scalding water and strong soaps washed over him cleansing him. He took another two showers the next freezing and the one after that scalding again before he stepped into the air dryer and was dried off. He straightened up the mess that his hair had become, changed into a three piece suit, and picked up his umbrella feeling more like himself.

Anthea stood outside the door in the hallway waiting for him having been alerted by the automatic alarm that went off whenever a door to the Conservatory Garden was opened that he was returning. She handed him a file and walked beside him ready to update him on whatever he had missed during his little chat with his brother. "Has the recruitment of John Watson begun?" He asked.

Anthea gave a curt nod even as she typed at her phone, multitasking as she often did. "The director took a look through his files and declared him a worthy candidate. I have used an old contact of ours a Mr. Mike Stamford an old university friend of John's to approach him with an offer to work here as a caretaker for Sherlock and an assistant to Mrs. Hudson. A series of necessary vaccinations before he begins working can be used to slip him the serum discretely."

Mycroft nodded impressed as he always was with Anthea's skill and initiative. "See to it then."

She looked at him from the corner of her eye. "Are you sure this will work sir?"

Mycroft smiled as he thought of Sherlock's reaction earlier. "I am quite sure. Sherlock was interested, although of course he was too stubborn to admit it. He seems to forget how well I can read him, no matter though. This will be good for him it is the first thing he has responded to in months. I trust you to have things ready for Dr. Watson by the time he arrives."

She nodded looking as though she wasn't paying attention but Mycroft knew better. She was already five steps ahead of her duties as she always was. "I've already sent out a team to prepare the Garden house for his arrival. They should be done within the hour."

Mycroft smiled. "It was nice to see my little brother acting more like himself again. Let's hope this Dr. Watson can keep him that way."

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