Before I start I'd like to apologise for not updating yesterday, that is unusual for me but I was at a friend's house and trust me, there was no chance of anything getting written or posted. I'd also like to apologise in advance, in a few days I'm going to Canada (to dance at a highland dancing championships :D) so I will try to update but I am certainly not making any promises, updating will not be high on my list of priorities. I shall endeavour to do so though. There will not be anything while I am still suffering the effects of jetlag, seven hour time difference will likely kill me for a few days .
This isn't how things are supposed to be
John was not sure how long he and Sherlock were sat there for. He didn't rush Sherlock and Mycroft just sat there patiently, swiftly switching his phone off when it began to ring. The doctor found it slightly funny that there was no telling how important a power Mycroft had just blanked for the sake of his little brother. The first one to move was Sherlock as John decided it would be best if it were him who released the physical contact. He was hesitant, unsure if he wanted to relinquish the comfort he had suddenly become accustomed to. Once again his grip tightened as he felt the original sense of control begin to slip away and he could not bear it but John's legs were cramping and he was happy to loosen Sherlock's grip on him after the man had considered it for himself.
Gently he pried the detective's lanky fingers of his woollen jumper and held them tenderly in his hand. Sherlock dared to look up at him but then instantly looked down, guilt evident in his eyes. "Sorry," muttered Sherlock, voice full of shame.
"What are you sorry for?" asked John, genuinely confused.
"Making you waste your time on me inconveniencing you in such a manner." He sounded more like a child than a great man, a child making a confession to their father before the judgement is made and the promised sentence is declared.
"Hey, there is no need to be sorry for that, do you understand?" Sherlock nodded slowly but remained silent. "No, I don't think you do understand. Any time that you need to talk, cry, get angry or need someone to talk to who will just listen I am here if you need me. There is absolutely no way any human can get through this alone, you need someone to help you along the line and even if that means shooting my brains out with a rifle I will do it. Makes the whole talking to me thing seem rather insignificant. Now, do you understand?" John finished kindly. Sherlock nodded, more convincingly that time, and the army doctor smiled slightly.
"Thank you," commented Sherlock quietly, almost so quietly John did not hear him.
"Well done mate, that was the appropriate response."
"Now," started Mycroft once they had managed to move his brother to the couch. "Your good doctor has been running around after you and has not had much of a chance to relax. He wants to talk to you but is willing to have a break and talk tomorrow. Whichever you refer brother dear." Sherlock shook his head violently causing his brother to sigh.
"Do it for John, he needs one less stressful factor in his life." The detective rolled his eyes, well aware that he was being manipulated but still, he nodded discretely.