CHAPTER 14. AWAKENING
"John?"
"He's going to fall." John tensed, and Mycroft could see his brother on the roof. "This was cruel. Was it your plan or his?" Dark mahogany eyes bore into the gray of Mycroft's. Angry, sad and haunted.
" A collaboration. We didn't have a lot of time."
"Watch then." John growled. "Watch you coward." Mycroft glared at John.
"I don't need to John. I know the secrets to this illusion." John returned to watch the dark figure on the roof of St. Barts.
"This was cruel." An unsteady whisper.
"It may seem so-" Mycroft sighed, gone was the youthful face, this was a man who'd returned from battle, stripped of purpose and given a life sentence of a civilian.
"Than you lied to me after. Looked me straight in the face and lied. You watched my world crumble and you lied." John's voice held no edge of anger; all this was statement cool and calm. So much unlike the explosive altercation.
"We had no choice. John. I don't want to watch this."
"I know. Neither do I. I'm glad you only saw the pictures and instructed your men on what parts to play. Or I'd be forced to see this all again."
"It was necessary John."
John sighed.
"I know that. I know. But doesn't make it any more easier." John shrugged now, his face less pinched, hands behind his back he tilted on the balls of his feet his eyes avoiding the building in front of him.
"This time he'll fall but I will be there in time to catch him." John nodded stiffly understanding the older Holmes words.
The British Government wanted to say more, but the shorter man was sitting now on the curb his head in his hands "Jesus-" He murmured in shock.
Once again Mycroft would blink only to find himself sitting in a small flat. He'd taken a spot in a very uncomfortable chair, holding his umbrella in his hand, he tapped it subconsciously on the old wood floor. His eyes now on a sleeping figure sprawled fully dressed on a small twin sized bed. The smell of stale beer radiating from the unconscious man.
Mycroft really hadn't wished to recall this time not so long past.
"Oh, its you. Figures." A groan, and then blond haired man lifts his head weakly, running a hand over his unshaven face.
"John you can't continue this way."
"Fuck off. Why don't you show yourself out."
"Tea John? Perhaps some breakfast?"
"Dammit Mycroft stop tapping your bloody umbrella, my head is pounding."
"Maybe you aren't exactly cut out for your families favorite past time."
"Ugh, I hate you." John buried his head back in his pillow.
"Come on John, you need to shower and dress, I'll take you to breakfast."
"I don't need a damn babysitter!" He moved to sit up, Mycroft offered him a glass of water. He took it gratefully. "Thanks." He sighed.
"John. We both know how this will go, so lets cut out the waste of words and time and move straight to you showering, shaving and accompanying me to I'd say breakfast but it's well past noon, so a late lunch."
"Bloody hell-fine!"
Mycroft glanced around the small flat, turning his nose up at the unwashed dishes in the sink, and old left over take away boxes. As the shower ran, he moved around searching the cupboards and under the sink. An expert at finding a drug addicts hiding places, Mycroft found what he was looking for and made sure he emptied each bottle out into the sink.
"Mycroft what the hell-" John cleanly showered and dressed in a pair of Jeans with a long sleeved stripped t-shirt, his blood shot eyes narrowed on the elder Holmes "Who do you think you are?"
"John Hamish Watson-" Mycroft straightened standing his full height for added intimidation. "I will not watch you self destruct. We are going to leave this place immediately, have a nice lunch and you will tell me your plans for seeking further employment. Clearly this part time work isn't helping to keep you in more suitable surroundings."
"What? Who do you think-" Mycroft sighed walking past the shorter man.
"John, I really don't like to repeat myself, I'd also hate to have you drugged and dragged out of this dwelling and put somewhere you can safely respite without indulging in this pointless self destructive behavior."
"Piss off Mycroft." John ran a hand through his hair, his hand had a slight tremor, nothing to do with the drinking, Mycroft knew his tremors and nightmares had returned. He'd had his men search the place for the Doctor's weapon and disarm it. "What do you care." He growled. "I am not your family."
"John." Mycroft took a deep breath, this conversation he knew all to well, and he'd thought he had deleted these days, the days where it felt like someone else had taken the good Doctor's place. Harry had gone on her own drinking beige and John didn't have any other family. Mycroft had told himself he was keeping a promise. He owed his brother, that's what he'd told himself over and over again but in truth Mycroft hated seeing the usually so put together man on a down ward spiral. He'd seen this pattern in his own brother.
He would not allow the ex soldier in front of him to be victim to his own dark emotions. "John, despite what you think, I am not trying to control you. I only want to see you succeed in life. Sher-" He watched the doctor wince, and quickly changed his wording "My brother would be aghast if I allowed his only friend a good man to self destruct. No one wishes to see you this way. And quiet frankly I'm running out of agents that you haven't punched for trying to escort you home."
Mycroft wanted to tell him, wanted to give him some clue that Sherlock was alive, this was their fault. This man had done so much for Sherlock, so much that Mycroft could never have done. He was indebted to the doctor, and to Sherlock. Mycroft knew how to handle this type of situation and handle he would, he could not and would not allow the ex army doctor to go this route.
John ran a hand through his blond hair, he needed a hair cut, Mycroft thought and a shave, but first things first. The Doctor broke this train of thought with a deep chuckle, he sighed now examining the older Holmes' confused glance.
"You're right Mycroft. I can't keep punching your agents. How's the diet?" he asked in such a familiar tone that Mycroft was speechless.
"You know you are one to talk." John slipped on his shoes, "Looks like you haven't slept in a while and you have lost weight. Come on, but I'll tell you now I'm not eating anywhere that has menus in a languages I don't speak." John started for the door he sighed "You coming?" Mycroft noticed the change in the doctor's posture. He didn't bother to lock the door Mycroft almost asked why but the shorter man shrugged. "This way when your men come in they wont have to pick it. I'm not stupid, I know this routine. I just hope when they bring food it's not the cheap tea."
"John, I hardly buy the 'cheap' tea."
"All the same you know my usual. I'm a simple man Mycroft Holmes."
Mycroft understood now, reexamining the situation. This was a truce between the two, and at this point the two would become closer. John stopped having to be kidnapped instead he'd call Mycroft to set up a time. Mycroft had asked him to look over several "special" Patients. Mainly field agents that were in need of emergency medical care.
He'd call the doctor up at any hour, sending a car and John never asked questions. And he lost the tremor in his hand; he'd even taken a job at a surgery, moving out of that less than adequate hobble, into something surprisingly in his price range. Of course, Mycroft had been sure the doctor didn't know the building was owned by a business man that owed him a favor, quiet a bit of the rent had been discounted when the army doctor came to look it over.
And Mycroft came to realize what it was that made John Watson different from all other acquaintances, he listened, spoke honestly and he laughed. Not forced but a warm honest laugh. Mycroft had resisted the urge a few times to keep himself from joining in. He only sighed as if in distaste for whatever joke or anecdote the good doctor was retelling.
"Really John I do think that clinic you work at is under your station."
"You should eat. New international incident to clean up I assume or is it babysitting foreign politicians?" When Mycroft didn't answer the doctor smiled. "Oh, both. That cant be fun."
Mycroft did enjoy their time together, it was somewhat of an escape from the arduous work as a government official. That and keeping tabs on his younger brother, he didn't have the heart to confess to John that's what kept him up most nights. Especially when his brother failed to check in as planned.
And staring across the table at the man who finished his steak and chips, Mycroft thought how later he would be sitting here alone once again surrounded by the quiet he wrapped himself in like a winter coat against the elements.
"You know Mycroft the two of you are so clueless." John sighed pushing his half eaten stake aside. "You understand he isn't a child and you have to let go sometime. And he needs to remember that you aren't his enemy."
"You try telling him that John." Mycroft frowned. "Why are we having this conversation?"
"I dont know. It's your dream." John sipped his tea. "Perhaps you should try telling him."
"What."
"That you aren't his enemy."
"I have."
"Have you?" John sighed. "Well all that aside, as fun as it has been reliving this past we cant stay here forever. Maybe you should-"
"Wake up sir. Sir-" The brunette PA stood over her boss, already the sun had started to come up in through the window.
It had been an interesting conversation for her to have with one of the Irish Prime Ministers aids, explaining they'd need the use of the offices a little longer." The aid had wished to speak to Mr. Holmes, but she'd only detoured him "He is on a very important call, he can not be disturbed. You understand it is sensitive information, not even I am allowed in there." The aid nodded and accepted this but she wondered how long before he returned.
The young women felt uncomfortable at what she was about to do, but it had already been almost eight hours since the younger Holmes had disappeared. They had with the help of the government here started searching for the younger Holmes but came up with nothing. So, she leaned over her boss and nudged him, yes, she nudged the British Government and said firmly "Sir. Wake up!"