Hello there,
this is the last chapter, so the originally as a oneshot planned story finally comes to an end. I thought about writing an epilogue, though. Maybe with the appropriate motivation I gain through reviews... ^^
Greetings, EvannaLy
Chapter 9 - Back to the roots
Sherlocks POV
He sat in the black car Anthea had ordered for him, waiting for his brother to appear, twitching nervously in his seat. He knew Mycroft would be angry. If he was being honest, if their roles were reversed he probably would have been just as angry. Probably. At least a little.
He just hoped he would be able to stall the confrontation until they reached their destination. That was important. He needed everything to happen exactly as planned.
Ah there, Mycroft exited the building, with out of anger tightly squinted eyes and stroded without faltering directly to his car. Sherlock prayed to all deities that all would went well. Then the car door was opened.
„Oh, hello brother dear, what a suprise, how have you been?" One look at his brothers furious face told him that maybe it would have been better to take a different approach. „Oh, I don't know, brother dear, I've been quite busy lately. Chasing after a careless idiot who doesn't seem to give a shit about anyone and anything!"
Sherlock stared. Mycroft had cursed. Openly. And rather crude for his conditions. So he chose the only possible way to deal with his brother in this state. Ignoring his temper and saying the truth.
„Why don't you take a seat? We have a little journey to make. And no – don't say anything. I know you're angry, and confused, but I promise all will be clear in a matter of hours.", „If this is another one of your games, Sherlock-", „It isn't!", Sherlock was fast to interrupt him. It would help no one if Mycroft started to fantasize about all the mischievous things Sherlock could be up to. Not that he wouldn't wonder anyway, but he could at least to calm him by speaking the truth. And it seemed to work. Though still wearing a doubting expression his brother entered the car and sat in front of him. Sherlock knocked at the glas seperating them from their driver and the noise of the starting engine could be heard.
„Just relax, brother. You have nothing to worry about, otherwise Anthea would have never let you go.", „Anthea? She KNEW?", „It was necessary to conduct my plan. But she was nothing but loyal to you, stop worrying.", „You are turning my own employees against me?!", „Not against you! If anything, then they will be even more compliant in the future.", „Sherlock what are you doing? What are WE doing?", „Be patient for once and just wait one hour. I won't talk to you til then, yes that's seems a good idea."
He stayed true to his words, so soon also Mycroft stopped his attempts at getting him to talk and it became quite. They couldn't look out of the ptch-black windows – Sherlock needed his brother to be surprised, after all, so they just closed their eyes and retreated into their respective mind palaces.
One hour later:
The car slowed down and Sherlock was pushed back into reality. Ok, no reason to get nervous, no reason at all. His inner turmoil stayed unnoticed by his brother who took a little longer to return to the present. „Will you tell me now, where we are?", „Don't you know yet? I could have bet that you would follow the street maze in your head.", „I did, but it seemed to have failed me. There's no way we are at home. You haven't been there for god knows how long.", „Why don't you take a look, then?"
Mycroft stared at him for a moment, seemingly analyzing his posture, facial expression and most importantly his eyes, before turning to the car door and opening it. He got out and came to an abrupt halt. „Explain!" Sherlock grinned a little at his brothers obvious bewilderment in his voice and followed him out of the car. They were standing in the driveway of a beautiful manor, two-stories high, victorian style. To the left was a passage that led to a just as beautiful garden area and a wood in a greater distance. Several stone steps led to the entrance, where the old oak door was getting opened at the moment and a warmly old lady appeared.
„Oh, Masters Holmes! You finally returned together. Do come in, do come in. Holmes manor has missed its Masters!", „Hello Betsy, a pleasure to see you, it really has been quite a while. Could you be so nice and bring us some tea to the library?", Sherlock asked in such a friendly tone John would have been shocked to see that he actually COULD be nice, if he wanted to.
„Of course, no problem at all. Make yourself comfortable!" With that the two brothers were pulled into the house by their old landlady, Mycroft still lost in his stupor. Well, now Sherlock would see if his efforts were for nothing or if he managed to something right in the end. And then he could finally return to Baker Street, John and his cases!
Mycrofts POV
To say Mycroft was shocked would be an understatement. His brothers odd behaviour in the car was one thing, but that he returned to their manor without being forced? The last time had been after their mothers death and it wasn't exactly a nice stay here... At least Sherlock was safe. No matter how furious he was about his little brothers antics, that he was safe was most important. Therefore he would willingly play along for now. He didn't want him to disappear for a second time! And the whole ordeal seemed quite important to Sherlock. But that didn't mean he wasn't shocked!
Without a word he let himself pull into the house by Betsy, then he simply followed his brother to the library. Without talking about it they took residence in their old favourite armchairs in front of the large window through which one could oversee the whole Holmes property. A minute later Betsy brought their tea, still quietly mumbling about how happy she was of seeing them here, together. Then it turned completely silent again and Sherlock fitched nervously in his chair, again.
„Spill it, Sherlock, you've tried my patience today more than above the bearable level.", „Yes, yes, no hurry." His little brother seemed to gather his courage before beginning to speak again, before finally beginning to explain.
„Mycroft. You know how we're working. You understand better than anyone else how it is completely normal for us to be ignorant, rude sometimes and annoying to each other." He looked at him for confirmation and Mycroft nodded, a bit confused. „And though this concept is normally working for us totally fine I found myself wondering if some of my recent actions towards you were a little 'not good'.", „Sherlock, what are you talking about? I assure you that everything is fine.", „No it isn't. And that's the problem!" He began to breathe a little harder – obviously struggeling with openly acknowledging that he was wrong about something, even though Mycroft still didn't knew what that would be.
„You went to me, seeking comfort and I not only didn't realized what the whole situation was about, but was additionally contributing to your sorrow. That's unacceptable." Sherlock waved with his hand to underline his point while Mycroft could do nothing but stare at him. „What the hell are you talking about? Me seeking comfort? I don't do emotions, you know that perfectly well!", „Wrong! You're lying!" Sherlock let out an exasperated sigh. „I forgot your birthday, for god damn sake, for real this time AND mocked you about coming to Baker Street on that very day. I only figured out the reason of your attendance of the gathering on the following day, when it was definetely too late."
Mycroft felt a warm feeling seeping inside his veins, working its way through his whole body. This was the closest of an apology he got from Sherlock for decades. And about something mundane as forgotten birthdays and feelings, things they usually deemed as useless.
„Thank you, Sherlock, I really appreciate that you care. But what's with that behaviour the last days?", „It's part of my too late arriving birthday present for you, of course.", „Birthday present? Your last present to me was when I left for university. You gave me an adviser 'How to find your dream woman' with the words, if I'd marry as fast as possible, I couldn't annoy you any longer!" Sherlock at least had the decency to look the Holmes-version of sheepish. „Well, you were annoying as hell after all, always meddling in my affairs... But that's unimportant right now. We're both older, more mature, aren't we? Either way, yes, I thought it appropriate to make up for my ignorance. So stop questioning it!"
At that Mycroft started to grin a bit. Leave it to Sherlock to be rude even while apologizing and delivering a present. „So, pray tell me, what's this present you're talking about?" Now it was Sherlocks turn again to loose an inch of his composure, before starting to talkslowly. „First of all, you already know that Anthea knew about my doings. She helped me, actually. Thanks to her I was able to get all of your todays work and some of tomorrows done, so we can make use of our free time here. You needed a break!", „I KNEW it was strange I had nothing to do today. I've always hav something to do." He watched his brother carefully, seeing his nervousness about how he would react and his need to do everything right for once. „Thank you, Sherlock, that was quite thoughtful." A sigh could be heard, then Sherlock had regained his confidence. „Do you think that was all? Don't insult me, brother mine. Next on my to do list was to speak with all of your staff. They won't dare to annoy you in the future as they did till now. There are some really big idiots there – I don't know how you haven't kill anyone yet!", „My words. Sadly they are already the least idiot ones... but thank you, Sherlock, it might spare me some headaches!", „I hope so. Last but not least I have something material for you. It's actually something you already own, technically and therefore also another apology."
His little brother rummaged around in his coat pockets while Mycrofts curiosity increased dramatically. It's been a while since Sherlock has been in an emotional state such as this, clearly feeling guilty and he was more than happy about this change of mind. He missed this uncomplicated, easy time he used to spent with Sherlock in their later childhood, before Sherlock became the self-proclaimed high-functioning sociopath after dealing with the ups and downs of going to school and having to deal with other children.
While Mycroft drank the rest of his tea Sherlock finally found what he's been looking for and gave him a small parcel, wrapped in a neutral emerald green paper. It felt hard, probably a book. When his curiosity got the better of him he began to open it. He unfolded the wrapping, looked at the cover of the book and gasped. „Sherlock...", he was speechless. Emotions he didn't want to think about threatened to come to the surface and were only willed away with the hardest concentration. „Like I said, it's been officially yours since Mummys death, so it isn't really a present, but I think it was about time you got it back. I'm sorry for taking it out of spite, only because I knew you've wanted it desperately since you were able to read your first words."
Mycroft couldn't say anything at all, while staring at the beautiful cover of 'Alice in wonderland', his mothers favourite. She had read it to him when he couldn't sleep due to thunderstorms or nightmares, had delved together with him into this world of strangeness, which was oddly comforting to him, who always felt out of place and just different than anybody else. It had been something between him and his mother, an escape from reality, one of the few things where they had been completely at peace together. It had hurt immensely when Sherlock took it after Mummys death and left him without his very own personal escape, his one oppurtunity to forget about his desperation. Especially as Sherlock had knew how much it meant to him and took it still! But for his little brother to realize the extent of its importance to him and to give it back, to show openly that he DID care, was a balm to all the pain that had gnawed at him for the last few months!
„Thank you, brother mine!" Then he did something he hadn't done for an eternity – he pulled his brother into a tight embrace. „You're welcome!", Sherlock whispered and hugged him back after he got over his initial shock.
Maybe not anything was lost. Maybe there was still hope for them!
THE END
You are the ones who decide if there'll be an epilogue, so please tell me what you think :D
