"You can't make John disappear just because Sherlock is having yet another danger night, Mycroft." Greg's disappointment in how Mycroft was intending on handling the situation came through clearly as he spoke to his boyfriend on the phone. Mycroft had called him to inform him that he wouldn't be available tonight as he planned on spending it with Sherlock regardless of whether or not he was wanted there. He made the mistake of briefly considering John's involvement in Sherlock's life, which prompted Greg to step in. Unlike Mycroft, Lestrade had spent a lot of time interacting with the two of them over the last month and saw John's influence as a good thing. Even if Sherlock had a minor setback tonight.
"I assure you that I can. My men are already in position around the flat and all it would take is sending John out for milk. My men would have him gone before Sherlock knew what happened," Mycroft explained.
"And Sherlock would never forgive you for it," Lestrade finished. Mycroft sighed.
"That is the downside," Mycroft replied.
"I know you are unhappy that John is trying to keep you away but maybe it is time that you stepped back and let someone else handle it. You have done so much for Sherlock over the years and for the first time, there is someone who is willing to carry a little of that weight. John cares deeply for your brother and I know that Sherlock feels the same way. Only, he doesn't know how to handle it. Instead of allowing himself to show his feelings, he is desperately trying to push John away and if I know John he isn't going to let that happen. He is going to fight for Sherlock. We just need to step back and allow them to figure it out," Greg explained. Mycroft knew his lover was right but it didn't change his mind about stopping into the flat. He needed to see for himself that Sherlock was alright and to check for any drugs that he may have hidden in the flat. Only then would he go back home to Greg.
"John has never dealt with a danger night before. I will show him where Sherlock's favorite hiding spots are and make sure he has everything under control then come home for the night. Perhaps we could even go to that little French restaurant you like," Mycroft offered. Lestrade smiled to himself.
"I would love to but I have to work late tonight. Tomorrow?" He questioned.
"I have to fly to Belgium tomorrow for a week," Mycroft replied.
"Then we will go when you get back and I will see you when I get home later," Lestrade answered.
"Of course," Mycroft responded as he made mental plans to surprise Greg at work with his favorite dish from the restaurant. They said their goodbyes hanging up as the car pulled up in front of Baker street. Getting out he let himself into the building heading up the stairs to the flat his brother resided in.
Upstairs John sighed. Despite him wanting to give Sherlock a minute to calm down, they barely made it thirty seconds before the sound of the downstairs door opening followed by the steady steps of Mycroft on the stairs. John realized that his plans to help Sherlock on his own had failed. Sherlock had retreated into his mind wasting the little bit of precious time they had and now with Mycroft's arrival, it would be impossible for them to talk in peace. He glanced towards the door as the man made it to the landing before entering their flat.
"I thought I told you that I had it under control," John snipped as Mycroft entered the room.
"So it would seem, Doctor Watson," Mycroft replied. He nodded towards his brother and John turned to see that in the brief moment that his eyes were off of Sherlock he had switched positions. He was no longer sitting staring towards the fireplace but had pulled his legs up to his chest. His elbows were against his knees as his hands covered his ears while he had his eyes squeezed tightly closed. "Tell me, do you consider patients having a meltdown in your presence a success?"
"He isn't my patient," John snapped.
"Indeed," Mycroft responded. He turned away and just for a moment John had hope that Mycroft would leave. That wasn't the case as he headed down the hall towards Sherlock's room disappearing inside for just a moment. He returned just as quickly holding a small bottle of pills along with a ratty old-looking stuffed rabbit. It may have once been white but now was yellowing with age and had several dark stains on it. It was clear that it had been someone's beloved childhood toy but it didn't make sense to John that it had been hidden inside Sherlock's room. It made even less sense when Mycroft shoved the rabbit between Sherlock's legs and chest before opening the bottle of pills. He was anything but gentle as he forced Sherlock's hand away from his ear and decanted two of the little white pills in his palm. Sherlock glared at him as he placed the pills in his mouth swallowing them dry.
"What did you give him?" John wondered stepping forward.
"I thought he wasn't your patient," Mycroft stated. John reached for the pills and Mycroft slipped them into his pocket taking a step back. "Which is it Doctor Watson, is my brother your patient and therefore safe to leave in your care, or is he just someone's footsteps that you follow in for the sake of the adrenaline rush?"
"He is my friend," John responded.
"So it would come as a surprise to find out that Sherlock doesn't have friends," Mycroft answered. John wanted to punch the man. He flexed his hand as he turned back to look at Sherlock. Sherlock was watching them, the interest clear in his eyes as he cuddled the rabbit close to his chest. John dug a fingernail into the palm of his hand feeling a sharp pain. Nope, he wasn't dreaming even if nothing about the scene in front of him made sense. Deciding to ignore Mycroft for the moment, John turned his complete attention to Sherlock.
"You have a stuffed rabbit," John told him. Rather than tell him off for stating the obvious, Sherlock nodded.
"A gift from our Uncle Rudy when Sherlock was three. It was the only toy that survived the fire causing Sherlock to form an unhealthy psychological dependency on the inanimate object. I informed my parents on several occasions that they should toss it in the rubbish bin but they insisted that he would be lost without it and be allowed to keep it," Mycroft explained. He had grown up with Sherlock dragging the rabbit around the house and it had been returned to him during his stay in the hospital when he finally decided to get clean. Mycroft himself had tried on several occasions to get Sherlock to relinquish the silly toy but the only time he actually agreed was the first year he started to take drugs. Since then, Mycroft had allowed him the silly toy as a reminder of when his brother was clean. It normally sat on the bookshelf in Sherlock's room but Mycroft noticed that he kept it near whenever a danger night was imminent.
"Right," John drew out the word. The rabbit made no sense to him but he would get answers once Mycroft was gone.
"Now, to business. This box is one of only three places that my brother likes to hide drugs. I will show you his other favorite hiding spots so that on future danger nights you will be able to guarantee that he will be safe without my interference. I can guarantee you, though, that if you fail him, Doctor Watson, I will make sure that not even Sherlock can find all the pieces of your body," Mycroft threatened. John rolled his eyes at Mycroft and Sherlock chuckled.
"Well, I think we both found that embarrassing. So how about you show me the hiding places so that we can both get on with our night," John stated. Mycroft's eyes narrowed but he led John around the flat showing him the hiding places that Sherlock had made over the years. There was the skull on the wall with the headphones, Sherlock's sock drawer, a loose floorboard near his bed and a hidden compartment in his wardrobe among several others. They found small amounts of cocaine in two of them bringing the total of stashes to three. Satisfied, Mycroft pocketed the drugs for disposal and returned the small bottle of pills to the drawer in the bedside table where Sherlock kept all his prescriptions. The entire time Sherlock sat on the couch holding the rabbit as there was no point in trying to leave. Mycroft's men would stop him immediately and force him back into the flat. It was better to pretend that he was cooperative until they let their guard down. Only then would he make his escape and replenish the stashes that Mycroft had emptied.
"Is this all of it?" Mycroft wondered as he showed Sherlock the additional bags. Sherlock glared at him turning towards the window. There was something comforting about the number three and even Mycroft tended to stop looking after discovering three stashes of drugs when Sherlock wasn't using, leaving him to create several others in new locations. This flat was relatively clean, though, with only two additional stashes of drugs and one of a very powerful poison.
"Piss off," Sherlock swore as he made his face as blank as possible. Mycroft pulled out his phone letting out a loud sigh.
"I have to take this. I expect you to keep an eye on him, Doctor Watson," Mycroft told them as he put his phone to his ear and left the flat. John waited until he heard the sound of the front door closing before turning back to Sherlock.
"Give me the rabbit," John demanded. Sherlock held it out to him. He watched with a small smile on his face as John examined the rabbit. It wasn't the first time that someone had grown suspicious of the stuffed toy but after examining it they had all deemed it safe and returned it to his possession. He should have realized that John was different as it only took a couple of minutes before finding the false stitching near the bottom that opened into a pouch. John put his hand in it and dug around before pulling out three little bags. "I'm flushing these and binning this rabbit."
"Don't," Sherlock nearly panicked as he reached for the toy. Mycroft hadn't been lying when he said that Sherlock had the toy since he was three. That rabbit had been in his arms when Mycroft saved him from the burning home and stayed by his side during his time in the hospital. He had discovered the pouch at some point before that and used it to hide things in it he didn't want Mycroft or his parents to know about. He had left the rabbit in his old room when he went off to college but had found comfort when it was returned to him during his long stay in the hospital. The thought of it being tossed in the bin made him feel physically ill. He almost breathed a sigh of relief when John let him grab it and pull it back to his chest.
"I won't bin it, but I will be subjecting to a search periodically," John told him. Sherlock nodded in relief as he stood moving to his room with the toy. He placed it back on his bookshelf. Turning around he saw that John had followed him. He was standing in the doorway but as Sherlock stood there John walked over to him. He took Sherlock's hand in his own leading him toward the bed. Sherlock's whole body tensed even as he followed John's footsteps. "Don't worry, I am not going to try anything. I just want to hold you for a while."
"Alright," Sherlock whispered his voice breaking.
"Trust me," John responded just as softly. Sherlock nodded. John sat down on the bed pulling Sherlock down with him. From there it only took a little bit of moving Sherlock around to get him laying on his side facing John. His head was against John's chest with their legs tangled together. Sherlock's arms were tucked between them as John held him running one hand slowly along Sherlock's spine. It was the first time anyone had ever held him like this and he relaxed into the comforting touch. A soft shudder went through his body as he felt John press a soft kiss to the top of his head before turning so his cheek was resting there. Sherlock had almost lost the chance to feel this and while he was still apprehensive to allow this to continue, he couldn't deny the fact that he enjoyed being held by John. And maybe just maybe one day he would take it further. For now, he closed his eyes storing this moment in his mind palace in John's wing. He was so focused on making sure that he had the feeling of John stroking his spine correct that he didn't notice the shadow receding leaving a small light in the corner that wasn't there before.