When Mycroft reached his home he stepped out of the car. He told his assistants to take early leave. He unlocked the door and walked up the steps to his room. He sat at his desk and put his face in his hands. His whole posture slugged. He could feel the anger venting up to him. No matter how hard he had worked to get to where he had to today, the one time his brother had needed him, really needed him and had trusted him, he couldn't help.
He knew he'd been harsh to Sherlock. Perhaps harsher than he meant to be but he needed to be. If only he could understand. If Sherlock went charging in there now he would only make matters worse. He tried to warn him but he knew Sherlock too well. He wouldn't listen to a gentle warning, the only thing that would make him listen was if John was in danger.
And Sherlock didn't know. Didn't know that the second he found out he went straight to his office calling in favours to get access to the footage of the night. He spent his whole night combing through hours of footage. He'd traced John's whole night except the one blank spot he needed the most. He rang up again and that's when he'd found out the shocking news on who John's attacker was. He got the footage he needed but there was nothing he could do except do his best to deter Sherlock from investigating it and keep a watchful eye over John.
He had the footage now. He had it stored on his computer. He hadn't seen it. His mouse had hovered over it a few times but each time something stopped him and he just couldn't do it so it just remained on his computer a constant reminder that there was nothing he could do except bide his time and wait.
Had to redeem Mycroft in the end just couldn't do it.
Hope you all enjoy and keep reading and reviewing (esp. constructive criticism, anything I can do to make my writing better is a bonus to me.)