As Mycroft put the phone down he sighed. "I warned Sherlock about getting involved. Now look at the state of him." he muttered. Still he had to help him didn't he? He was family after all. Mycroft went through his contacts and made the necessary phone calls.
An hour later he was marching through the hospital in search of his brother. He found him staring forlornly at a man that at this moment in time hated him. Mycroft really couldn't see the point.
As he walked up the corridor Lestrade, who was trying to keep Sherlock company, looked up and smiled. Mycroft ignored him. He looked at his brother and saw a look of devastation on his face. "I warned you Sherlock." he scolded "I told you getting involved was a bad idea."
Lestrade stared at Mycroft, a look of total disbelief on his face. "Really?" he questioned "You're really going to criticize your brother for being human? Don't you think he's having a hard enough time without you making it worse?" He couldn't believe that this man could treat his own brother in this way.
Mycroft looked guilty for a moment. Then he took a deep breath, stood up straight and started again. "Sherlock" he said much gentler this time "I have arranged for John to get treatment at the best hospital in London, with the best doctors my contacts can find. Obviously until they see him they can't predict the outcome but I'm sure he'll stand a much better chance of recovery than he would here." As he made this comment Mycroft glanced around with a look of disdain. Lestrade couldn't help but smile. For clever men sometimes these brothers were ridiculous he thought.
Sherlock looked at his brother, he didn't quite know what to say. For all his arguments and criticism Sherlock now knew that he could count on his brother when he really needed him. "Thank you Mycroft" he muttered.
"Well..." was all Mycroft managed in reply. He looked slightly embarrassed. Neither of them knew how to deal with sentiment. Again Lestrade couldn't help but smile, this time at their discomfort with each other.
A doctor came striding towards them looking less than impressed. "Are you the person that wants to move my patient?" he demanded.
Immediately Mycroft changed. His embarrassment was gone and that cold, hard exterior was back. "Yes I am. I want this man" he pointed through the glass at John "ready to transport as soon as possible. I have arranged for a helicopter to collect him in half an hour."
"That's ridiculous" the doctor complained "Do you think I have nothing better to do? Mr Watson is being perfectly well cared for where he is, he doesn't need to be moved."
"Really?" continued Mycroft "For a start he is Dr John Watson not Mr and secondly, if he is being so well cared for why is it that you have no idea what's wrong with him? Hmm? Did you not tell his friends here that physically he was fine but that you could offer no explanation as to his inability to recognise them as friends rather than enemies?" The doctor just muttered. "Well, it's not good enough. I will have Dr Watson treated by the best doctors this country has to offer and you will have him ready to transport in half an hour."
The doctor had no idea what to say in answer to Mycroft's tirade and so merely muttered his consent and turned to leave.
Lestrade couldn't help but be impressed, not only with the way Mycroft had just handled the situation but also with the things he'd arranged for John's care. "Wow, you arranged all of that in an hour?"
"Of course." Mycroft answered as if this was an everyday occurrence. "It's easy enough when you know the right people. I will owe them though." he continued looking pointedly at Sherlock. "Still if it gets you your friend back I guess it will be worth it. Well I better go and make sure that doctor is doing as he's told. I will see you later Sherlock." And with that he marched off.
Lestrade stood, staring after Mycroft in total shock "Is your brother always like that?" he asked Sherlock as he turned back to face him. Sherlock just nodded.
For the next half an hour John's room was a hive of activity as nurses got all his things together and made sure his medical notes were up to date. The doctor came and did one last check and gave him extra medication to ensure he stayed sedated during the flight.
When the word came that the helicopter had arrived, John was wheeled from his room and along the corridor to the elevator that would take him to the roof. Sherlock looked on helplessly.
Lestrade went to find out which hospital John was being transferred to. When he went back he found Sherlock stood in the empty room staring at the space which John had occupied minutes before. "Come on Sherlock I'll take you to him." Lestrade said softly taking his arm.
