Mycroft awoke sometime in the early afternoon, the wound on his side felt marginally better, no doubt to whatever painkillers they were giving him. He wiped the sleep from his eyes and stared at the body in the other hospital bed. Sherlock was also on his side, his eyes half open, watching his brother. Was he completely awake? Or was he only half asleep? Whatever the case may be, he still wasn't in any condition for Mycroft to inquire about his survival. Perhaps on the plane ride home, which better be bloody soon.

"Sherlock?"

"Myc"

"How do you feel now?"

"Head st'll h'rts. Ev'ryth'ng's...f'ggy" Mycroft sighed.

"That's the drugs Sherlock"

"G've up dr'gs"

"Not those ones, medicinal ones. Give it time. Do you need anything?"

It seemed to take him forever before he made a decision. "W'ter"

Mycroft nodded and yelled for the nurse. There was a call button, but Mycroft was not getting up just to push that when she could hear him perfectly well. When she appeared at the door, Mycroft wasted no time in giving her further orders. Sherlock needed water and possibly food and he desired the phone again. The nurse sighed, nodded and left the room. Mycroft heaved himself up into a sitting position, wincing and swung his legs over the bed. There was a chair next to Sherlock's bed so Mycroft made his way to it, stumbling and trying not to cry out as pain radiated up his side. He shouldn't be up, but he didn't want to be stuck in bed a minute longer.

Sherlock continued to watch him, his eyes dazed and slightly out of focus. After Mycroft sat down, he looked up into his brother's face.

"Are you angry at me?"

"A little" Sherlock's face fell.

"'m sorry"

"Stop apologising."

"But, I m'de you angry..." The gears tried to click into motion but were halted by the drugs. Mycroft patted his hand.

"Yes but you made me happy by not dying"

"..I'll r'm'mber th't n'xt time"

"There better not be a next time Sherlock"

Mycroft was immediatly reprimanded when the nurse returned. He ignored her, took the water, the food and the phone and ordered her to leave. She had a mind to call the orderlies and force him back to bed, but she could see he wasn't up and about just to be difficult, though she wouldn't put that past him, but to care for his little brother. His heart was in the right place, even if he was an arrogant bastard. She left the two brothers alone. Mycroft lifted his sibling's head and urged him to take small sips. Sherlock gasped as the cold liquid slipped down his throat, he hadn't realised how dry it had felt until that moment.

"Do you feel up to eating something? I have ...unidentifiable soup" Sherlock gave him a slight smile and nodded and Mycroft again raised his head and placed the end of the spoon between his lips. He continued until half the bowl was gone, by then Sherlock had had enough. Mycroft placed the half empty bowl to the side and gently placed his brother's head back onto the soft white pillows.

"I have to make another phone call. Get some rest."

"C'll?"

"Yes Sherlock. I left in a hurry, so a lot of people wish to know where I am."

"Who are you c'lling?"

"...That's not important. Go to sleep" Sherlock turned on his side, his innocent eyes staring into Mycroft's concerned ones.

"No. Who?" The elder Holmes brother found himself sighing for what seemed like the hundredth time.

"John" Sherlock's blue eyes widened, as Mycroft knew they would.

"C'n I t'lk to h'm?"

"No, Sherlock. You know this. It is still not safe"

"But..." His eyesbrows furrowed in thought. "J'm is dead."

"Yes, but Moran is not. Nor are several other members. Once they are done away with, then you may speak to John"

"But I m'ss John..."

"I know Sherlock. But he want's to know about Normund and I need to inform him about Moriarty's death. So I must phone him with a convincing lie."

".. He l'kes N'rmound m're th'n me"

"Now that is just ridiculous. Go to sleep!"

"D'n't w'nt to"

"Then stay silent."

John jumped when the phone rang directly into his ear several times, having fallen asleep right next to it. He wasted no time in answering it, it could be anybody, it could even be important. Who was it? Lestrade? Mycroft? Normund? Please be one of the latter two. Please be ok Normund. Please, please, please.

"Hello?"

"John"

"Mycroft?"

"Indeed"

"Where the bloody hell have you been? I've been trying to get a hold of you for ages!"

"Yes I know. Forgive me, I had more pressing matters"

"More pressing-...look did you find Normund?" More pressing matters, my arse.

"Normund and Moriarty"

"Is he ok?" Please be ok mate. I'm so sorry.

"He is injured, but he'll live. The same can not be said for James Moriarty"

"...He's dead?" Oh God.

"Yes."

"Are you sure?"

"I shot him myself. I am very sure" If John had been standing, he would have had to sit down at this point.

"Oh God. Oh God, he's dead. He's finally gone." He felt like laughing and crying. And so did both.

"Yes.."

"Wait.. you shot him?"

"He was about to attack, I had no choice"

"Wow. That's great. Yes it was self defence I'm sure but I don't bloody care. He's dead. Wow" He kept laughing, feeling speechless, warmth, pleasure and relief filled him. Jim was gone. He would never harm another living thing.

"I thought I should let you know. Normund is returning home to his family to recover. I will be bringing the body of Moriarty back with me once the doctor has cleared us both" There was no point hiding his injury, John would find out the minute he was brought in to see the criminal's corpse.

"Doctor? Cleared you both? Are you alright Mycroft?"

"Concerned for me?"

"...Maybe a little. But just a tiny, tiny amount."

"I was shot"

"Shit"

"That's what I thought too. It's not serious however, just irritating. I should be able to leave this dreadful place in a day or so."

"Who shot you?"

"One of Moriarty's men."

"Did you get him?"

"Unfortunatly not. I must go now, the nurse is giving me threatening looks and gestures. See you soon, John Watson"

"Bye Mycroft.."

The phone was once again snatched from his hands and Nurse Dragon, as Mycroft dubbed her in his head and he had never bothered to learn her real name, ordered him back to bed. He declined initially, but relented when she mentioned the orderlies. Sherlock was still awake, he was panting, sweat pooled on his brow and bandages. A familiar feeling settled in Mycroft's chest. Worry. Nurse Dragon checked his temperature, frowning slightly. Dear brother, if you get sick and delay us I will not forgive you. The nurse placed a cold compress onto his forehead and held it in place.

"Has he a fever?"

"Just a mild one. He should be better in the morning. As for leaving, you must clear that with your doctors first."

"We shall see"

"You will or you will stay here"

"Foolish delusions"

Sherlock's feverish moans interrupted her retort. She sighed and continued cooling his brow.

"Stupid boy" Mycroft whispered. Always have to take things one step further.

John rested his head in his hands, tears dripping down his face, but he was smiling. Happy tears. Jim was dead. Gone. Never to return. Mycroft had killed him, whether it was in self defence or an act of revenge, John didn't fucking care. He felt as if a weight had been lifted off his chest. Life was safe again. He didn't have to worry anymore. Oh this was brilliant. He would have to tell Lestrade and Mrs Hudson even. And Mary. He'd been so concerned that Moriarty might make an attempt to hurt his Mary. Instead he'd taken an innocent friend. Who he hoped, would one day forgive him.

And Sherlock. He had to tell him too.