When John opened the door and entered, he saw a man that was nothing like the man he had remembered. He saw a thinner, more tired, and possibly sick man, in prison uniform that were now slightly too big on him now. He seemed to have lost a lot of weight. "Hello, John. How's the investigation going?" he asked croakily, in a voice that clearly hadn't been used since their last visit. He got up slowly from the bed he was laying on, standing up in front of him. "Mycroft, are you alright?" John asked worriedly. He never cared for him, but now he looked so weak he couldn't ignore it. "Of course I am. How's the investigation going?" even as a powerless man, he insisted on pretending to be immune. "Sherlock…" the doctor started, but his voice trailed off. "He decided to stop investigating, didn't he?" he asked with the faintest of smiles. "May I know why?" "He was convinced that you worked together with Moriarty." Unlike John expected, Mycroft chuckled. "Well, I can't say it's unbelievable." "But it's a lie, right?" Mycroft's gaze moved to something behind John's left shoulder. "I don't know, Sherlock. Is it?" John turned around, surprised to see his flat mate standing right behind him. How did he not hear him enter? "No, it isn't." Mycroft nodded. "Thought so. You have every reason to believe I was working with Moriarty, so why wouldn't you? For God's sake, Sherlock, use your brain!" Mycroft started yelling. John had never seen him this furious. "I did use my brain!" the younger brother yelled back. "And everything led back to you!" "You are dumber than you seem, aren't you?" Sherlock moved quickly to the bars, putting both his hands on them, as if he's some sort of a beast trying to break them. Mycroft's expression changed. "You're using drugs again, aren't you?" Sherlock was shaking with anger. He wished there weren't any bars there, wished he could hit his brother. The brother than betrayed him, that made him lose everything he had, the brother that kept insulting him ever since he was born. God, he could kill him. "Sherlock, think about it – why would he do this? Maybe, if you'll stop being angry, you'll realize he's speaking the truth!" Sherlock turned to John and punched his face. He hit his nose. "Sherlock!" his brother called. But he had already stormed out.