Three years and four months since the great detective, and John Watson is running very late indeed.
He's meant to have left the house 45 minutes ago but both Mary and Thomas are ridiculously ill with the flu and the atmosphere in the house is... rather tense... so John spends his morning making them as comfortable as he can with tea and blankets and running out early to the chemist to buy medicine. He has to go back out to the chemist a little bit later and buy some more because Thomas has an allergy to something in the first stuff. Something which he'd forgotten until Mary had gently reminded him. John's extremely thankful that he ducked. Those medicine bottles are heavy and he likes things better when there's no blood oozing out of his head.
Then he has to call Mary's sister, hoping against hope that she could come and look after Ewan. She eventually says yes, but Ewan must come to her. John Absolutely Does Not Swear, takes a deep breath, thanks her very much and says he'll be there soon. He grabs the second born, kisses the first born on his head, tells his wife were he's going and rushes out the door. Ten minutes go by til he rushes back in, picks up Ewan's nappies, food and favourite toys, hits his head on a cupboard, swears and fuck's off out the door as fast as he possibly can. He gets to his sister in-law's in record, law-breaking time, dumps the child as fast as he can without hurting anyone and is in the hallway when he realises he didn't call work to tell them he'd be late. He pauses for a second to beat his head quietly but viciously against the door, before taking a deep breath and heading to the car. Fully prepared to call his boss Nina as soon he's in the driver's seat and grovel shamelessly.
John Watson walks out of his sister in-law's house. He sighs long and he sighs hard. Then, quiet, calm, and collected, he gets into the back of the black car that's sitting on the road, staring intensely at Mycroft Holmes as he does. Mycroft Holmes stares back.
John doesn't say anything as they drive off. He doesn't think there's much point, they're going where they're going. Nothing John says will change that, so he decides to save his breath for later. He's sure they'll be plenty of time for yelling, swearing and other assorted heavy-breathing-inducing activities. Like punching Mycroft in the face. John's content to wait.
When it's clear they're heading for as far away as it's possible to be from his house, John decides it's probably time to text his wife and tell her he's been kidnapped. She needs to know in case he's not home in time to cook dinner. He tells Mycroft the same thing. Mycroft tells him that's a good idea, as this could take a while. John's head snaps up so fast he almost gets whiplash. He knows that tone. That's Mycroft's 'I Am Immensely Worried About A Certain Consulting Detective That We Both Know And Love' tone. John knows that tone intimately. And Holmes has absolutely no business using it. Not anymore. It makes John a bit angry, so he abruptly demands to know where they are going and why the fuck are they going there in the first place for chrissake? He stops as he realises that he is swearing far too much and reigns himself in. He shouldn't be swearing at all really, he and Mary agreed to set a good example for the kids... his mental monologue stops when Mycroft sighs. John's never heard Mycroft sigh like that before. It worries him.
Mycroft says it's better for John to see for himself. At least he thinks it is, anyway. He doesn't know at this point. Mycroft guesses that they'll know soon enough so why worry. John's never heard Mycroft admit fallibility like that before. It worries him... almost to the point of vomiting.
They eventually hit a small estate in the East End. John has a feeling that the small estate is about to hit back. Hard. In delicate areas.
When they get to the flat on the fifth floor John's adrenalin is pumping and his hands are perfectly steady. Before they go in, Mycroft places a hand on John's shoulder, stopping him for a moment. The gentle hand on John's shoulder makes his stomach clench, Mycroft has never touched him before. The look in Mycroft's eyes makes his heart skip a beat, John's never seen that look, not in Mycroft's eyes. The soft voice telling him to 'Be strong, John Watson, and try and understand. Please.' makes him want to cry, it makes him want to run. John Watson wants to run, so far and so very fast to a place that is Anywhere but Here, this place that can make Mycroft Holmes beg. John asks if Mycroft is coming in with him. He is not surprised when the other man shakes his head, convulsively tightens his grip on his umbrella and then walks away. There's really nothing surprising in it, here in this place that make the British Government beg.
John nods, turns around, and opens the door. And is greeted by a ghost.
Frozen, with his mouth hanging open and his heart beating fast enough to escape his chest, John hears the voice. A voice that he should never have been able to hear again, because Those Are The Rules God damn Him...
The voice is filled with anxiety to explain, gentleness and absolute warmth. The tone of voice that has, to John, always meant love, safety and friendship, when the tone comes from a certain dead man.
John knows that tone intimately. And Holmes has absolutely no business using it. Not anymore.
