The world's only consulting detective walked in the corridors of a prison, alongside with his blogger friend. He looked around him in disgust. He had received a phone call saying that his brother had asked him to come, in order to help him solve a problem. Usually, Sherlock would have ignored such a request. But Mycroft never asked for Sherlock's help. He demanded it, or he asked for it indirectly. This request was rather peculiar, which was why Sherlock Holmes was walking towards the cell he was asked to come to. It was at the end of the corridor, but it was different than the rest of them larger than the rest, and isolated from them as well. A man in prison uniform sat on a wooden bench and read a boring-looking book. He lifted his gaze from the book as the men entered.
John frowned immediately. Sherlock stared at his brother for a moment, and then let out a loud gloating laughter.
"Yes, very funny. Now would you calm down and behave like a grownup?" the older brother said in irritation.
"You do not look well in orange." the younger said, still laughing.
"Thank you for that important information." the older said sarcastically.
John scanned his best friend's older brother. He looked strong and confident, even like this, but something about him was different. He didn't seem immune anymore, and his blank eyes were trying to conceal an emotion john had never seen in this man's expression he was used to it.
"Why would you kill her?" the detective asked in confusion. His brother may not like working with people, but Anthea had been his assistant for such a long time this time he wanted to make it different he's your brother!" John burst, but Sherlock didn't care. He had conditions.
Mycroft walked closer to his brother, until he was standing right in front of him, as close as the bars allow him to. He knew the detective wouldn't help him unless he'll make him want to help him. He didn't actually want him to say 'please'. He wanted him to show how desperate he really was.
And he was desperate.
"Please, help me," he said, allowing his eyes and tone to expose his feelings, "Sherlock."
John was astonished he had put on the emotionless mask again, not revealing his feelings and thoughts.
Sherlock Holmes headed to the door without saying a word, and his friend followed. Just as he closed the door behind them, he could hear Mycroft say: "Thank you."