John ended up ordering them supper while Sherlock continued to stare at the fireplace. John wasn't sure what was going through his head as his eyes remained blank, almost as if they were staring through the wall instead. He kept a careful eye on Sherlock, aware that he might be playing possum as he waited for an opportunity to escape the flat. His phone ringing broke the silence in the room and he brought it to his ear.
"Hello?" John answered not even bothering to look at the screen.
"Hello, John. Is Sherlock there?" Mycroft asked.
"He is," John responded vaguely.
"It has come to my attention that you may not have been aware of the fact that my brother wished to provide you his medical files. I am unclear about the reason behind his logic but I fear that it may lead to a danger night," Mycroft explained.
"It has," John kept his answer just as simple as he kept his eyes directly on Sherlock. He knew he wouldn't fool the detective but he also wanted to show that he was on Sherlock's side and not going to keep Mycroft updated on what Sherlock was doing. He had made his decision that first night they met and he tended to stick by it.
"I am on my way over," Mycroft informed him.
"I have it," John told him firmly.
"You have no idea what a danger night entails or the lengths that he will go to in order to procure what he wants." Mycroft started to rant. John didn't care about whether or not he meant to say more as he hung up the phone effectively cutting Mycroft off. A small smile crossed Sherlock's face as he finally turned his head to look at John.
"That won't stop him," Sherlock spoke up, his voice softer and slower than normal.
"I know and if you don't talk to me I won't be able to convince him that he doesn't need to stay. He will barge his way in, search your things and make this night harder on you than it has to be. But if you talk to me, I may be able to convince him that I have things under control and he doesn't need to worry about staying by your side tonight," John tried to tempt him.
"I'm not talking about what happened to me that night," Sherlock told him his voice sounding firmer.
"We don't ever have to talk about what happened that night unless you want to. I was thinking we could start further back," John stated. Cautiously he moved out of the kitchen doorway to take a seat in his chair. Sherlock's eyes had narrowed and he ran them along John's body clearly deducting him. Understanding crossed his face and he leaned back on the couch steepling his fingers beneath his chin.
"You have obviously drawn the logical but the incorrect conclusion that my parents abused me up until the age of six and then suddenly stopped." Sherlock's voice was normal again and had the smug tone that he got when he knew something that nobody else had caught on to yet. It was a tone that John hated and normally would call him out on.
"Then enlighten me because in case you forgot I am a doctor and I know abuse when I see it," John told him more calmly than he felt.
"I am not denying the fact that I was abused but you have drawn the wrong conclusion that it was my parents. It was in fact my sister who caused those injuries," Sherlock stated.
"You have a sister?" John questioned in surprise.
"Had a sister," Sherlock answered his voice going soft once more.
"I'm sorry," John immediately responded realizing what Sherlock was saying. Sherlock waved his hand dismissively at John. He didn't have many memories of his sister and the few he had weren't pleasant. She had taken great joy in tormenting him in ways that she called experimenting. His parents lost control of her unable to stop her from finding new and interesting ways to study the thresh hold of the human body. Mycroft was his savior when times got too tough, staying by his side and protecting him from her the best he could. It was even because of Mycroft that he had made his first friend.
Because he had been Eurus's favorite plaything, she hadn't taken the news well that he had made a friend outside the home. His memories of Victor were limited due to being only six when he died but he remembered well, playing pirates with him and running across the land that their families owned. After Victor went missing, he had searched the same land desperate to find his friend and taunted by the song that Eurus insisting on singing. They never found his body, though. It didn't help matters that the week he went missing, severe rainstorms flooded the area making it impossible to search for the young boy. His family sadly assumed that he was swept away by the flooding lake and a small memorial was erected in his honor near its banks. It was only once Mycroft had established himself in the government that they were finally able to figure out what happened to Victor. The long-forgotten well was found on the property.
Before the mystery was solved, though, what happened to Victor was always in the back of his mind coming out in dreams. It was brought to the forefront once again when he was a teen and he read the story about Carl Powers drowning during the swim meet. He had been young then and no detective would listen to him as he tried desperately to tell them that the other teen had been murdered. They all just ignored him and told him to leave it to the professionals. He swore one day that he would make them listen. That one day he wouldn't just be the teen with neurological issues. It had taken longer than he expected but he had followed through on that promise. While he could never handle being on the force in an official capacity due to the Bureaucracy that he hated, he had made his own way.
"Sherlock?" John asked. Sherlock snapped his head towards John as he realized he was no longer in his chair but sitting on the table in front of him instead. "There you are. You were starting to worry me."
"I'm fine," Sherlock snapped.
"We both know that isn't true but instead of arguing about it, I am going to give you a minute to regroup before we start talking again," John told him. Mycroft would be here soon and right now he was no closer to proving to Mycroft he could help Sherlock through a danger night and unless Sherlock listened to him and actually spoke with him, he doubted that he ever would be.