A/N: sorry for the delay folks...morning sickness is kicking my butt...more like morning noon and night. It should pass soon...so i've been told. So here's the update.
Agent Watson wasn't particularly too trusting of these 'alternates', Holmes had tried to remind him it wasn't the first time he'd met one. In fact he described a wild story that had Agent Watson wondering if the younger man had fallen off the wagon and started on the drugs. However glancing around the room; as he loaded his weapons and readied his gear, he couldn't help but believe his friend.
Just a little, he tried to recall the night he'd been shot, but it was all a blur, he remembered his mission was to break Sherlock out of that mental hospital, the two could escape to the states just until things cleared. It was absurd, and probably the craziest thing the former military man had ever done but he couldn't stand the idea of his friend rotting away in some awful padded room, drooling on himself and drugged to the teeth.
No, Sherlock was a genius, he could be a great man, John had seen it in him, and dammed if he would let Mycroft Holmes Mr. British Government put a man away without the courtesy of a trial. John had been a Doctor once in the RAMC but his superiors had seen his talent and promoted him to the field. He left the medical profession behind after that, he didn't think he'd ever really have to call on it.
Not much use for a healer when you needed an assassin. And for the most part that's what John had been, a trained assassin and he was damn good at it.
Then Mycroft bloody Holmes called him into his office with a new challenge. In John's RAMC days he'd saved some hot-headed idiot a sniper, John had patched him up and carried the man out of danger. All in a day's work, really, back then John had been all noble and less jaded by the war. Mycroft wanted to use that as an in. He needed Agent Watson to play a part, and John had thought he played it well.
Little did he know the genius brother of Mycroft's had seen him coming. He had fooled Moriarty, well partly because the psychopath was too busy blowing shit up to care. And of course Colonel Moran was more blinded by the fact that John's back story fit his own. An army vet dishonorably discharged due to some time spent in military prison over illegal drug and weapons smuggling.
That sniper was an idiot, and Holmes, well Holmes kept testing him, kept him on his toes. John hardly reported back to Mycroft unless he felt the information impertinent. After years as an MI6 agent, John knew what misleading intel could do, and from the way that Sherlock liked to play, John was well aware that the man was trying to give him crap information just to catch him off his game.
It wasn't until the idiot overdosed that John realized just how close a friend he was to said idiot. Then there was that incident with an assassin. John had moved on reflex and killed the other man. Sherlock was won over, and that's when John was able to get the real stuff to Mycroft, the intel that would help bring down Moriarty.
The British Government warned John, that his little brother the sociopath was incapable of feeling or having friends. He warned John against believing himself an exception, perhaps the pompous bastard thought John was getting too close. The Agent hadn't thought so, but when he found out through Mycroft about Moriarty's plans to betray Sherlock, well that was enough to kick him into action.
He knew it would blow his cover but he didn't care. He tried to convince the younger Holmes to turn himself in, to work with MI6, the younger man had looked on John as if he had grown a second head. Then the cavalry showed up, and John was powerless.
He used what medical knowledge he could remember to bring Sherlock's doses down at the hospital, he was going to break him out, and if the man wasn't going to forgive him fine, John could live with that. He knew Sherlock wasn't like Moriarty, somewhere the young man jumped track, and he just needed to start over.
Now, here he was staring at two other versions of his friend, and apparently there were other John Watson's out there as well. He almost wondered if his alternate had been orphaned at five, had lost his whole family in a car accident, grew up in fosters homes, attended UNI, joined the army with the RAMC fell in love with a woman, Mary. Mary a primary school teacher, only to lose her and their first born to childbirth, while he was away fighting in Afghanistan. Then he was recruited by MI6, because operatives with no family were the best.
He listened to Holmes arguing with the other two, Agent Watson sized them up, the one in the suit, Sherringford they called him. He was soft, not used to handling a weapon. He was looking down his nose at Holmes, it made John want to walk over to him and punch him in the face.
Sherlock Holmes was an ex criminal, but those days were behind him, he'd come a long way, saved lives, worked with the local idiots to bring down the more troublesome criminals on the lower branches of Moriarty's organization. What had these assholes been up to?
Then the one in the Bellstaff coat, eccentric written all over his face, he had a cold look to him, John could read it in the man's eyes. He'd killed more than once and he would do it again. This man was dangerous, this one John would keep a closer eye on. Then those gray eyes were observing the Agent, he felt himself being picked apart layer by layer, it was haunting how similar this Sherlock was to John's version of Holmes.
"I don't think it wise to bring along Agent Watson." The Bellstaff stated his eyes not leaving John's. The Agent wondered if that was something the man deduced or if Holmes had introduced him as an agent. No matter, he wasn't letting his friend out of sight, especially with two sociopaths.
"I've already been over this Detective." Holmes spoke curtly, taking one of the weapons, John was done loading. "One does not leave-"
"Have you thought of the implications? It's no just that we'll going into a dangerous scenario where force will be needed. This I'm sure you and your friend here are well suited for. However what about the physiological impact?"
Holmes laughed at the Bellstaff Sherlock. He rolled his eyes "Do you think I will be reduced to tears at the sight of this other alternate in danger-"
"I have no doubts in my mind Mr. Holmes that you would not blink twice seeing the mirror of yourself meet an end. How would you feel if it were your friend there." He nodded his dark head at John, "Or your brother. And all that aside I wasn't even implying that it would be you who is most affected."
Holmes' eyes were narrowed and he John could feel his friends tension, John knew the ex criminal hated being questioned.
"If you insult my friend one more time-" he growled low. John rolled his eyes, such a temper.
"Holmes, it's fine." John handed the small hand gun to Sherringford then the Browning to Bellstaff. "Now, Mr. Sherlock Holmes, detective or whatever it is you do in your world. I am an MI6 trained operative. I do have some medical background, this might come in handy on this job. Why would you assume I-"
"I'm sorry Agent Watson, forgive me and my concern. Answer me this if you will. There are friends you've lost? Family?" The consulting detective placed the Browning in his coat were as Sherringford glared at the weapon he was holding. John held the other man's glare, he refused to look away, refused to think of his parents or of Mary.
Then Mr. Bellstaff coat cocked his eyebrow and his lips thinned into that all too familiar smug face, as if John just confirmed what he was thinking.
"John is of no concern to you Detective." Holmes snapped. "It's you who have come for our help. I suggest we get on with this instead of this excessive bickering. Agent Watson will not be compromised, this I can swear on."
"Is that why you left your precious Doctor at home?" John felt a pang of jealousy? Anger? Did Mary exists somewhere else, with this man's close friend? Did he not go into the army and instead stay home-was he there when she went into labor did they have a grown son? Did that John Watson have living parents, a sister? All guesses, it wasn't any use to dwell on these things, what passed has passed.
"No, Agent Watson. I've purposely not included the good Doctor in this adventure because he has worked a double shift, and the days before that, I've kept him up on a very important case. I would need someone sharp and ready. I would not risk his life when I can handle this case on my own. Doctor John H. Watson former Captain of the Fifth Northumberland Fusiliers is resting comfortably at home having his tea. Besides I think he's seen me die one too many a time to last us both a lifetime. He's an excellent marksmen, knowledgeable Doctor and my best friend. I'll have you not insult the man. "
"Fair enough." John shrugged. "Let's get this going. Holmes, stick close." Watson turned to his friend who was examining him with the same careful scrutiny that the other had.
