Chapter 8: The boy can go home
John had a very long and tiring talk with his boss and an even more exhausting nightshift and then a fitful night of sleep because he was worrying about Sherlock. As he woke up and tried to sort his mind for the day he felt that something was wrong. He wasn't alone in his room. Finding his weapon under his cushion he turned around as fast as he could and aimed at the intruder. He stopped the second he saw who it was.
Sherlock Holmes was sleeping all rolled up on his chair in the corner, dark rings under his eyes and a distressed face even in his sleep. John took his weapon down and observed the boy. When he finally decided to get up Sherlock woke to the noise of John's blanket moving. John had to smile at the confused look in his eyes.
"Good morning sleepy head." Sherlock focused on him, not uttering a single word. "If you want you can sleep a bit more in the bed, you look like you need it." For that he at least got a head shake.
"Would you like to meet your brother or just stay here for a while?" John offered.
"Stay." Sherlock whispered. He pulled his legs even closer to his chest and hugged them as if he feared he would fall apart otherwise.
"I will get us breakfast and tea, okay?" Sherlock nodded and as John came back with tea and toast he hadn't move from his place on the chair.
Sherlock was tired, he hadn't slept well the night before but the thing he was feeling while waiting for John to get breakfast was a different kind of exhaustion. All he wanted to do was sleep and forget or stop thinking. Not sure which one was easier.
He had found John's room very easily. As he was alone in it, Sherlock took the liberty to let himself in and watch him sleep. The chair was not really comfortable but he had slept in far worse places. John's presence was comforting and his eyes fell closed bringing him back to his dream.
When he was woken by the noise of another person moving he was at first confused as to where he was and then how he could have fallen asleep in a stranger's room. Although he seemed to trust John more than anyone before in his life. Finding it very unsettling that he was giving his freedom and safety to a man he had met only once (twice if you counted the meeting they had had a few years back) in his life.
While John got tea and breakfast Sherlock had to think about his future, he had cut his bond with Moriarty and was now alone. Moriarty would never let him go, he knew too much. He could destroy his work and everything that he had ever created. And Sherlock had been Sherlock part of these things. He would destroy himself. He remembered one of the first sentence Moriarty had ever said to him (the memories were coming back slowly): that he would destroy Sherlock in order to rebuild him. Maybe he had to destroy himself so that he could be free again. Destroy and rebuild. But as what? Who was Sherlock without his work for Moriarty? He was nothing but a child that had learned nothing except how to destroy and hurt and kill.
That's what Sherlock was, what Moriarty had made out of him. Caught by that thought he nearly missed that John was back. He pushed a hot tea cup into his hand and sat down on the bed, as Sherlock was occupying the only chair in the room.
"Drink your tea before it gets cold. It tastes better warm." Listening to John's words Sherlock lifted his cup to his lips and let the hot liquid flow into his body warming him up. After what felt like hours of sitting in a comfortable silence Sherlock spoke up for the first time.
"I would like to see proof of my identity and meet my brother. But I should tell you that Moriarty won't be happy when he finds out I ran away and his version of 'consequences' are always a bit deadly, so if you don't mind I would also like to ask for your protection." Seeing the fear in Sherlock's eyes made the whole situation a lot more real but still he was trying to sound strong and like an adult.
"Of course you will get both, and your brother and me as your bodyguard." John stood up, opened the door and Sherlock followed him into the base to meet his 'brother'. John could feel the nervous force that followed him all the way. Sherlock had lost his identity, his home and the only family he had known all in one day. Now he had a last name and a brother but also an enemy, a dangerous one. Not a life you wished on someone who had lived as a prisoner under his abuser.
As they arrived in front of his boss' office, John checked with a last look at Sherlock how ready he was for the meeting. 'Not really ready' would be the answer but he knocked and opened the door anyway.
Mycroft had moved his workplace to this base, the closest point to his brother he could find. It had been surprisingly easy to move his office and the few meetings he had to attend could be covered via video conferences and phone calls. He was going to leave this place only together with his brother.
Someone knocked at the door, he called them in and his heart nearly stopped as he saw his visitor. There he was. His little brother. Shaken and nervous, tired and jumpy. All at the same time. They looked each other in the eyes but before something could happen Captain Watson spoke up.
"Sherlock this is Mycroft Holmes, your brother, Mr. Holmes here is your brother. Like I promised, he came to me on his own." Both looked at him for a second before turning back to the brother they hadn't seen with their own eyes for fifteen years. And to the surprise of the whole room the first one who spoke was Sherlock.
"Myc?" The old childish nickname Sherlock had given him when he had been too small to say his name properly caused tears to form in Mycroft's eyes. John smiled and wanted to leave the room to give them a bit of privacy as a hand caught at his sleeve and held him back.
"You said you would protect me. Don't leave me alone. Please." Sherlock could count the times he had used the word please and actually meant it on one hand but now he really meant it. He didn't feel safe. Moriarty could come back and he only trusted John. He had only just met Mycroft and wasn't able to place him in his mind as his brother but John. John was good, he needed John. John he would protect him.
After a look in Sherlock's eyes and one over to Mycroft John stayed. But he stood a bit in the background. During that short conversation Mycroft had come out of his shock and he now walked around his desk and held out a hand for Sherlock to shake. This time Sherlock moved and answered the greeting.
Both felt it. Sherlock remembered the safe feeling in his dreams, the feeling of being protected. Mycroft felt the hand that had slipped away and all the time he had waited to be able to hold it again. With only a second hesitation he pulled Sherlock closer and wrapped him into a one-arm hug. The other one did not let go of his hand. Both Holmes brothers let the tears they had kept inside for such a long time fall.
What followed were long days and nights with many hours of talking. John stayed with Sherlock the whole time. And most of the times Mycroft was there as well. In the beginning Sherlock didn't want to talk or couldn't. They weren't sure which it was but as they moved away from topics such as what his job was, what Moriarty had made him do, what Moriarty had taught him and other similar questions, and move on to things like, which locations were used, the names of groups and organizations that used Moriarty's Network and future plans of terror acts they could still stop, Sherlock talked. It was very helpful to have a genius as a witness. They hadn't and wouldn't have found but a thousandth of the information he gave them.
But Sherlock was afraid of Moriarty coming to get him and he wasn't ready to talk about himself. He liked talking to his brother and John but kept a great distance between him and other people.
The day the unavoidable happened, John was glad to be the one who was closest to Sherlock. They were having a walk through the village getting Sherlock to open up a bit with other people and thanks to John (the doctor) the people talked to him. Of course they were never alone. A few other soldiers had come with them. Sherlock stayed close to John all the time.
Now that he was no longer the right hand of a powerful man, with big powers himself, he was just a nine-teen year old boy. Shy and afraid of the world.
The first thing John noticed was Sherlock becoming white as a sheet. After that the world suddenly seemed to become empty. The street which had been full with life and people was now empty and dead. The only ones left were the soldiers, Sherlock and John. Moriarty stepped out of black car which had come down the street. John, who had never seen the man, was not impressed, but Sherlock was shaking. He was visibly terrorized.
The soldiers pulled their guns and aimed at Moriarty. "I wouldn't do that if I were you. The whole street is covered with bombs. I have my own little army of snipers pointing at all of you and I'm just here to talk to Sherlock. Right Sherlock? You will talk to me now. Because who knows when one of the snipers gets bored and decides to shoot someone." An evil smile appeared on the mad man's face."
"He can't talk to you but you can leave." John shouted over to Moriarty. Getting the attention of an insane criminal master mind was not the best way to start the morning but better than letting Sherlock drown in that situation.
"And who are you to decide what my boy can do?" He asked with a sneering voice that let the whole street freeze over and let the word 'danger' get a whole new meaning.
But John wasn't afraid of the coward in front of him who took little children and hurt them long enough until they would do everything for him just to avoid being hurt again. Having the image of that boy who had looked away secure in his heart and in his mind John answered. "Right now? I am the one standing between you and Sherlock. He is not yours, he does not belong to anybody. He is his own and you have no right to hurt him further. Do you understand this? Was I clear enough?"
Before Moriarty could say something Sherlock woke up from his shocked state. "I will never ever go with you again. Whatever you want from me, I am not interested and I don't care what you can offer me. You had me long enough to play with. I will stay with my brother, try to get my memories of him back. You took me from him, you hurt him too. I don't like hurting people like you. It was wrong to take me. You made a mistake with me. I told them everything I know and will help them to destroy your work." Taking a deep breath Sherlock continued. "You once told me you would have to destroy me first in order to create something big. Thanks for that, it is probably the only useful thing I learned from you. I destroyed myself and you with me so that I can be reborn without being the monster you made me to." Sherlock breathed heavily and had spoken more in the last minute then in the last days and weeks together. Moriarty's face was showing nothing but blind hatred.
"We will see about that. Don't forget, Sherlock: I made you, I am the only one with the ability to destroy you. And I will" With that he got into the car and drove away. Not a second too soon. Because the backup arrived to secure Moriarty's snipers, bombs and employees.
At that point Sherlock broke down crying like a little child and that was the reason John was thankful to be the one next to the boy. He caught him before he could fall to the ground and held him tight in his arms, rocking him until the last tear was shed and the last sob had died down in his throat.
There was still a very real threat in the air but Sherlock was finally free. He had cut the ropes binding him to Moriarty by himself. He had a long way to go but he was not alone or afraid anymore. John and Mycroft were by his side.
AN: Thanks for reading. It was a long story but surprise it´s not over. I will wright a sequel, a bit patient please. But I promise it will be ready soon. My beta is looking forwart for it too. So I will start it very soon. ^^
Thanks to you Sandra67 for your hard work with my many mistakes.