CHAPTER 36. NEED TO KNOW
Mycroft took a seat in the chair across from the one John had occupied earlier. Sherlock paced near the window, the older Holmes patiently waited for what he knew was the beginning of a tantrum.
" Seeing how I don't have all night, I'll start." Mycroft broke the silence after five minutes of Sherlock just glaring. "Why would you have John accompany you to a crime-"
"No!" Sherlock snapped, "No! You don't get to reprimand me! Not this time. I don't have to explain my actions. John getting injured wasn't anything I planned on."
"Of course you didn't plan on it. What did you think would happen when you took a man still in recovery from a serious wound onto a crime-"
"How did John get that injury?" Sherlock cut his brother off again, his eyes cold and calculating.
"Sherlock. You already know. He was injured in the line of duty-" Mycroft rolled his eyes as if dealing with a petulant child.
"Mycroft!" Sherlock growled. "Tell me the truth! I want to hear you say it."
"Say what? That he was targeted by a sniper? That the fool ran out to save three men, three times he put his life on the line. Is that what you want to hear. Or would you like me to tell you that it wasn't the enemy who shot at him? Do you want me to assuage your guilt? To tell you it wasn't your fault? That Sebastian Moran was just conveniently out for blood and John just happened to stray into his path?"
"I want the truth Mycroft. Why wouldn't you just tell me-" Sherlock's voice wavered, he sank down into the chair across from his brother. "Was this my fault?"
"Sebastian Moran was a sniper, did you know that?" Mycroft lowered his voice, shaking his head.
"I knew he was in the army and he had been deployed. At least that's what Jim would always say." Sherlock rubbed his temples not meeting his brother's annoyed expression.
"Sherlock he targeted John. He targeted him because he held a grudge against you. A grudge over James Moriarty. He shot three men. Three good soldiers, he purposely made them bait to lure John out into the open. John doesn't remember the incident. I had Moran questioned and he was far from remorseful. He made it clear John was his primary target, he was under the impression you and the Doctor were still romantically involved."
Sherlock grimaced, "Where is he?"
"That's classified." Mycroft clutched his umbrella's handle.
"There's something else?" Sherlock narrowed his eyes, his brother tried to change the subject.
"What else is there brother? You should be glad, Moran did you a favor he gave you a second chance."
"You have him in custody still?" Sherlock leaned forward in his chair his brother didn't immediately reply.
"Sherlock let it go. I am handling the situation." Mycroft snapped irritably.
"You don't have him?" Sherlock held his breath. "How did he-"
"Moriarty broke him out. Yes Sherlock, Moriarty. You remember the man. He went from drug dealing to international criminal. He's wanted in several countries for a number of crimes. Moran doesn't have the connections, we know it was Moriarty who broke him out of a high security prison."
"Idiots." Sherlock growled.
"I have the best men on the trail. They have much invested in finding Moran, and when we find the sniper we'll find Moriarty." Sherlock scoffed at his brother's statement. Then his eyes narrowed once more, nodding in sudden understanding. "Carter and someone else? A family member of one of the victims. Interesting."
"Highly motivated and just as capable. Both men are in the Special Forces and will not give up until the man is found."
"Is John safe?" Sherlock pushed this statement aside, selfishly not wanting to hear about John's boyfriend or ex boyfriend whatever he was.
"Moran and Moriarty are far from England as far as we can tell they have no intention of returning."
"There is still a threat." Sherlock stated angrily.
"We have been monitoring all possible-"
"Does John know?" The younger Holmes felt sick.
"He knows Sebastian targeted him and the others but no he doesn't know why. He doesn't even remember meeting him."
"He's met him before?" Sherlock held his breath. "When?"
"When do you think?" Mycroft laid his umbrella across his lap, this was exactly the conversation he hoped to avoid.
"I don't-" Sherlock tried to think, to think of a time when Sebastian would have met John. As far as he knew they'd never crossed paths.
"I don't blame you. I didn't know the connection, until we questioned the bastard. He ran into John at a club, three years ago. That's how he knows what he looks like."
"The club-" Sherlock thought he was going to be sick. This was his fault and when John found out he would hate him even more.
"Leave it Sherlock. Let me handle this. He doesn't need to know anymore." Mycroft made a dismissive gesture, standing to leave.
"He'll remember. He-" the younger Holmes felt like a drowning man.
"He won't and he doesn't. I already asked him several times if he knew Sebastian Moran. He doesn't. Let me handle this. Just, just try to keep him close." Sherlock watched the flash of emotion cross his brother's usually impassive face.
"Tell me." Sherlock swallowed forcing his gray eyes to meet that of his brother's. "Tell me what happened. How-how did John meet him?"
"I've already told you brother. Why are we revisiting this? You know as much as me, except we didn't know the identity of the man then. John had no recollection; his drink had been drugged so it was expected. It was Sebastian who took John out to the alley with every intention of causing him some kind of bodily harm. It's simple as that. My assistant had noticed him entering the club on the cctv, she made the call and my men brought him back to my home. You of course were high and sleeping it off in some dealers house." Mycroft sighed heavily.
Sherlock could read something else in his brother's face, something he was guarding. Had something else happened?
"You only told me John had been nearly mugged you-you never said anything else." Sherlock's mouth was dry, this was the bitterness of regret, he knew it so well.
"It's in the past brother. All that matters is that a few bruises aside John was fine. And none the wiser. He doesn't need to know anymore."
"Mycroft. Is that all that happened? He wasn't-"
"I assure you, my men showed up in time to prevent anything else. I told you he had been mugged because that was the assumed intention." Mycroft lied. "I brought him home put him to bed. He slept it off. No harm-"
"You were there?" Sherlock frowned, and Mycroft looked startled. "I thought you said your men? Were you there? Why were you there?"
"Sherlock does it matter?" The younger Holmes watched his brother, that question that hung between them for years was demanding to be asked out loud.
"Do you-"Sherlock started to ask.
"It doesn't matter Sherlock. No matter what you think my feelings are, the fact remains that it was you he loved." Mycroft frowned. "As undeserving as you are. It was always you."
"That's why you had Carter reassigned. Not because he was negligent in his duties. It was because you saw the affection he had for John, that first time at the flat."
"If you already know the answers why ask?" Mycroft leaned on his umbrella. The British Government shook his head, reading the remorseful look in his brother's facial expression, and felt something in him snap. "How many chances must you be given little brother? " The older Holmes reined his feelings in just as quickly as he released them. He took a deep breath, "Goodnight Sherlock."