Sherlock was practically a zombie when he walked through the door of his house, using his slender fingers to massage the cartridge of his nose. He'd been up late the last several nights, and it was taking a small toll on him. He dropped his coat over the hook of the coat rack, scoffing when he noticed his brother's umbrella propped against it as well, almost like it was waiting for him. Sherlock's attention swayed when he heard foot steps coming down the stairs at a slow, almost menacing pace. "Well, good to see you finally found your way home." Mycroft scoffed.

Mycroft stood on the final step, probably postponing stepping down for the sake of keeping himself taller than Sherlock for a few more minutes. Sherlock narrowed his eyes, making a point to disregard his brother as he started towards the parlor and making himself comfortable. He sunk carelessly into his favorite chair, crossing his legs as Mycroft followed him in. "I'm sure.." his brother began, "That you understand, we have much to discuss over the wedding."

Sherlock kept his eyes dead-locked onto his brother's, making sure he got his point across, "I don't want to marry Irene. I never have, and assure you, I never will."

Mycroft seemed a bit taken back, even appeared to consider this for a moment, making Sherlock frown. It wasn't like Mycroft to show empathy, or even emotions. "There's nothing to be done." he finally replied, "Everyone else is happy with the arrangement, and it will be beneficial to all of the families." he continued into the parlor, finding himself a seat across from Sherlock, "This is the first time that there's ever been arranged marriages between all families. I believe that it could be revolutionary. You yourself should-"

"I'm not incompetent, brother." Sherlock glared, "I'm well aware of it's potential and all it could do.. but its those who are destined to be wed that don't approve."

"Just because you don't like the idea doesn't mean the others don't." Mycroft shook his head with disapproval, "If I recall correctly, Irene was very pleased, and the Morstan girl and Watson boy seemed content." he widened his eyes a little, "In fact, they were linked at the hip for most of the hour.."

Sherlock frowned, remembering well enough to be agitated. He wanted to let Mycroft know that he wasn't the only unhappy one, John didn't want to marry her -but that would give him away. It would mean he'd talked with John outside of the meetings, which was for all intended purposes, a form of tyranny. They were sworn enemies at the end of the day... and he didn't have any control over that.

"I don't want to be a part of this."

"Well, like it or not you are." Mycroft retorted, his face skewing with a look of irritation, "Grow up Sherlock."

"Why are you pretending to be in charge?" He growled, feeling vengeful. "You're not the don."

Mycroft's face turned sour quickly, "You know better then anyone the condition that father is in. I'm in charge of-"

"Taking over his duties until he keels over?"

Mycroft scoffed with disbelief, "You know," he began, standing quietly before sternly glaring down his brother, "I never took the world's words to heart. The things they've said about you. I'd always believed that they just, didn't know you Sherlock."

"I don't need your sentiment, Mycroft." he growled.

Mycroft shook his head, not bothering to reply until he'd almost made his way out of the room, "Perhaps you truly are the world's only living heart donor."

Sherlock scowled. He wasn't heartless...

Mike was beyond frustrated. John would have had to be on the family border lines if it had taken him this long to get back. He was sitting on the front stoop, blocking the front door while he waited for his cousin. John was acting off-key ever since this whole marriage business had began. Because John was put off, the rest of the family had been out of the game as well. He was always late, hardly home, and was sneaking around behind even his back.

A cab slowed in front of the drive, the back door opening as John stepped out wearily. That was another thing, they had a family car and driver. There was no need for any cabs, yet that was John's recent mode of transportation. It was all too much for his liking. Of course, he was worried for the effect his childish behavior was having on the family, but he was also concerned for Mary. This wasn't someone she wanted to marry. "Where've you been?" Mike scowled when John reached him, "Are you drunk?"

"No.." he yawned, rubbing his eyes, "Just tired."

"Late night?"

John grinned lightly, "You could say that."

Glaring, Mike stood, dusting off his trousers, "Andrea has been worried sick, your father's upset, Luke can't concentrate on his training, and its on my shoulders to fix it." he pressed an accusing finger into the middle of John's chest angrily, "What are you doing?"

"You're not my mother, Mike. Leave me alone." John replied dismissively, swatting his hand away.

"Your mother isn't here, its just us men."

John frowned when he was blocked from getting inside the house, Mike shifting into his path, "... you're acting more like a boy."

"I'm the boy?" he glowered, taking a large step to the left when John tried to dodge him.

"Look, Mike... I'm tired. Cut this out and let me in. I need a shower and something to eat.."

Mike brought his nose close to John's neck, taking in a good whiff before John could pull away. "M-Mike!" he fumbled, trying to break out of his hands when he reached up to pull on the collar of his suit, "What the hell!"

Mike ripped, exposing the skin from John's chin to his shoulder, revealing scandalous bite mark after bite mark. He clenched his jaw as he pulled back, raising a fist into the air, "You cock!" he barked, smashing his knuckles against John's jaw with brute force.

John's breath left him as he crashed to the floor. He groaned with displeasure, raising his hand to his lip in search for any blood. "Wha.."

Mike had been waiting impatiently for John to get back and was now far past his boiling point, having nothing but time to think perverse situations himself. He'd been doing nothing but thinking about how much he wanted to punch John for the last half hour, and now he'd been given every right to do so. "You bloody cock! What the hell! John Watson, marrying the most beautiful girl in all of London, is cavorting around with... PPROSTITUTES!" he roared, diving down to crash another fist into his skull mercilessly, his knees colliding with the cement walkway as he fell.

John retaliated, defending himself with a cross-arm shield, blocking a better portion of Mike's ruthless blows. John, desperate to fix this, yelled up, "I didn't sleep with any prostitutes Mike!"

"Then explain those fucking marks! You, dirty bastard!"

John cringed when Mike's punches changed, driving into his side once he realized he couldn't get anywhere with the face. "I DIDN'T SLEEP WITH A PROSTITUTE! FOR GOD'S SA-"

Mike's fist seemed to disappear into John's side, crushing his rib as his knuckles dug deep. His eyes started to water as he fought the pain, his voice cracking every time he tried to speak, "MI-" he started coughing uncontrollably, hardly able to breathe.

He was choking on the blood that flooded his mouth, spitting it out only a little at a time, the lack of oxygen turning his face purple. It was enough to make Mike stop, and roll off of him, suddenly regaining his senses when he realized all the damage. John couldn't breathe, and his body went into multiple spasms in attempt to get air flowing through his lungs. "J-John? ANDREA!" he cried, pulling John's head up into his lap carefully, trying to flip him so that the blood would leek out voluntarily. "JAMES! FATHER! HELP! SOMEBODY HELP!"

John thought he was going to die. His lungs were on fire, and he felt like he was drowning. No matter how hard he tried he couldn't file out the blood that caught in his air pipes, and he was gradually losing the ability to think about what he needed to do. The front door slammed open, people filing out just in time to see John drop to the floor. James dropped to his side urgently, pressing his head against the boy's chest for signs of breath, ordering the women to call an ambulance.

Mike rocked back and forth a small distance away from where James was attempting CPR, blaming himself for everything.