John groaned at the sight of the stairs. He had just come back from the grocery and was now having to do the terrible task of getting the food up the stairs to the flat, knowing that Sherlock wouldn't lift a finger.
"Oh no, I don't need any help at all. He has me buy so much milk for a man that doesn't eat," John muttered while he yanked himself and his bags up the steep stairs.
He walked into the kitchen without a glance at Sherlock. After putting up the food in whatever body-part free section of the fridge, he entered the living room, fully intending to scold Sherlock for his laziness.
However, when he saw the detective, he stopped in his tracks.
Sherlock was sitting and leaning forward with his hands steepled in front of his lips, a glare etched on his face. Following his eyes, John saw that Sherlock's glare was directed at his cell phone, which lay smashed on the floor.
"Um Sherlock, you all right?" John asked tentatively.
Sherlock didn't move his glare but responded,
"The British government and I are not on speaking terms."
"Ah, so what did Mycroft do this time?" John asked, slightly amused.
"The unforgivable," Sherlock responded in an emotionless voice.
It was only then that John noticed how tense his best friend was. Whatever Mycroft had said, Sherlock had actually been hurt.
Sherlock then stood abruptly and went to his room, slamming the door as he went.
John clenched his jaw, angry at Mycroft without even knowing what the older Holmes had said. All John knew was that, whatever it was, had hurt Sherlock; and that took a low blow.
Fuming, John went into the kitchen and picked up his mobile, dialing Mycroft's number.
After going through about six secretaries, John finally got Mycroft on the phone.
"John?" Mycroft asked.
"Hello, yes, Mycroft. Now do you want to tell me what you said to Sherlock that upset him so much?"
Mycroft was silent for a moment and John waited patiently for an explanation.
"You must understand that Sherlock was being more impossible than usual," Mycroft began.
John immediately groaned, knowing that this was Mycroft's way of admitting that he had gone too far.
"Just what did you say and how can I fix it?" John asked impatiently.
He could hear Mycroft's sigh, then, after a few seconds, Mycroft confessed,
"When he refused to take me seriously on a case, I told him his intellect was riding on the same field as Connor Matthew's, his high school bully. I understand that this was impolitic of me."
John took a second to process this information. First, Mycroft had said something absolutely terrible to Sherlock, even for them. Also, Mycroft was admitting what he said was wrong, probably the first time that John had ever heard him admit to anything.
John cleared his throat then began,
"You're right, that is a horrible thing to say. Be here in the next hour to apologize."
John hung up the phone before he could hear Mycroft's argument.
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After hanging up the phone with Mycroft, John went to do damage control with Sherlock.
However, after standing outside the detective's bedroom door for over fifth teen minutes, without a word from Sherlock, John gave up and went to read the paper while he waited for Mycroft to arrive.
Forty minutes later, he was still waiting. Mycroft had five minutes left.
John was just thinking this as he heard footsteps climbing up to the flat. Mycroft had arrived.
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It took Sherlock roughly two seconds to rush out of his bedroom and fix John with a lethal glare.
"What have you done?" Sherlock asked, furious.
"John asked me to come over and apologize," Mycroft said from the doorway.
John resented the fact that he had given the older Holmes a key.
Sherlock huffed and flung himself on the couch, crossing his arms and pouting like a child.
"Alright then, go ahead," John prompted Mycroft.
Mycroft cleared his throat and, with apparent strain, said, "Sherlock, I regret comparing your IQ to that of Connor Matthews. Yours is obviously superior."
Sherlock raised his eyebrows at that and gave John a curious look.
John tried not to laugh at the look of utter disbelief on Sherlock's face.
"And you say John can control me," Sherlock muttered.
"Right well, I must be off now," Mycroft said, clearly uncomfortable, as he turned and swished his umbrella, heading for the door.
"Hold up a second, Mycroft," John said before turning to Sherlock and continuing, "Sherlock you need to apologize for whatever you said to make Mycroft angry enough to slip up."
Sherlock's prior look of amusement immediately vanished, replaced by his stoic and cold facade.
"No," Sherlock stated blandly.
"Yes, now. Stand up and go apologize," John said, harnessing his best military voice.
Sherlock glared at John for a second, before complying. Sherlock was no idiot; he knew that when John set his mind to something, it would be done.
"Fine," Sherlock clipped as he sat up and crossed the room in a stiff fashion, "I apologize for using mom's approval against you, Mycroft."
Sherlock then turned to John, as if to ask for approval.
John nodded his head and then said, "Now hug, both of you."
Both of the Holmes brothers turned to look at the doctor in disbelief.
"No," Sherlock said at the same time that Mycroft said, "Never."
However, John held his stance,
"Yes you will. Hug, now."
Sherlock and Mycroft turned to face each other.
"He won't budge when he's like this," Sherlock said.
Mycroft nodded, "I feared you would say that. Well, let's get this over with then."
Sherlock took a deep breath and looked at john, meeting his eyes, silently pleading to not have to hug his brother.
John simply shook his head and gestured to Mycroft with his hands.
"Fine," Sherlock said then slowly and more awkwardly then Sherlock had ever been in his life, he lifted his arms and sort-of embraced his brother.
Mycroft stiffed but slowly brought his own arms up to his brother's shoulders.
It took a second, but the hug slowly relaxed. The embrace lasted for at least ten seconds, and John was thoroughly impressed when the two pulled back and stared at each other.
Mycroft broke the silence when he said, "Well I really should go now, goodbye Sherlock, John," nodding his head to the doctor before leaving the flat.
Sherlock stared bewildered at the door for a few seconds before shaking his head a little and going back to sit on the couch.
"Tea?" John asked, trying to give his friend a little space.
Sherlock gave a distracted nod as John went into the kitchen.
Once alone, Sherlock pulled out his phone and sent a quick text before John returned. The hug wasn't mentioned for the rest of the evening.
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Mycroft's black car was pulling away from Baker Street when he got a text.
"You've lost a stone. -SH"
Mycroft allowed himself a small smile as he took this as Sherlock's way of saying that he enjoyed the hug and replied,
"I fear you may have managed to get even taller. -MH"
Mycroft Holmes then closed his phone and smiled as he looked out the car window, silently thanking John for making him hug his brother for the first time.
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John had just set down Sherlock's tea when the detective's phone vibrated.
Looking down, Sherlock couldn't help the smirk from forming on his lips. He was secretly grateful that John had forced the first physical contact between him and Mycroft, though he would NEVER admit it.
Ask and you shall receive ;) The long awaited Holmes brothers chapter! Plus a little bonus, protective!John. Hope you enjoyed it! The reviews have been AMAZING, I really love to hear from you guys and if you have a chance please leave a review :)
