Sherrinford didn't rise from the comfortable chair he sat in, he attempted to take a drink from the expensive tumbler but halted his actions. He had given up drinking for her, given up a lot of things, all for her and now she was gone.
He'd come to understand three years ago he just wasn't allowed to be happy, he was a monster trying to live among the angels. And goddammit all!
He had for a few years managed to beat back his darkness, managed to be a man she wanted and a father. Only for it all to be snatched away, and here he was again in his native land among the people that hated him and the brothers who would never know him.
He knew them well enough to wonder if he ever truly had known them. If that made any sense. The Holmes brothers were never really close.
He knew that Mycroft was once shy and he used the guise of disinterest and smug superiority to keep himself separated from the rest of he tried and failed so many times to gain father's approval.
Sentiment was not an advantage, Sherrinford had taught his brother that hard lesson too long ago. Probobly the last lesson he ever taught his brother, a rule that Sherrinford Holmes had thought he would never betray.
Then there was the spoiled baby brother, so entitled and used to having his damn way. He was a genius for sure, so curious and without a filter. This made him an easy target for bullies, the youngest Holmes wasn't able to hold back when he spoke.
If only mother would have stopped indulging the little brat perhaps he could have been saved. Although looking at him now he almost seemed healthy, he was lean but not thin, and the color to him wasn't sickly. For a moment Sherrinford could see a little of what John had described.
Doctor Watson wasn't a fool, no Sherrinford had come to admire the younger man. He had entertained some of the volunteers and missionaries with stories and the ever vexing antics of his flatmate and friend. Sherrinford of course hadn't believed it at the time and refused to sit and listen to Doctor Watson's skewed perception.
Looking at the youngest Holmes now, Sherrinford wondered if he had been wrong about that. Then he remembered Mycroft's words from all those years earlier, perhaps they had some truth to them. Maybe all Sherlock needed was someone to relate to.
Speaking of the youngest Holmes, the graying older brother held back a laugh. The curly haired brother was looking like an idiot with his mouth open.
Then there were the dark rings under those gray eyes, rings that didn't speak of nights shooting up but rather sleeplessness.
The last time Sherrinford had seen his little brother was when the kid was fifteen detoxing after a particularly bad overdose. Mycroft had made excuses, always being the go between trying to translate Sherlock's eccentricities to their parents.
Sherrinford had come off a particularly long mission and wasn't in the mood, the kid needed a damn thrashing. Father was at his end, and Sherrinford suggested as much, as well as cutting the little bastard off from any funds. Mycroft argued that wouldn't help, that their little brother needed rehab.
The elder Holmes brother knew a lost cause, and Sherlock had already broken out of three and the other two he had pretended treatment was working only to go right back to shooting up. Sherrinford was young and dealing with the pressures of being a double o, it had made him hard in a way that Mycroft didn't understand.
"If he could just make some friends." Mycroft had cringed when his voice had shaken.
Sherrinford laughed as did father, "He's a damn Holmes we don't need friends, we need assets! We need resources, people aren't meant to be confidants, they are pawns. Goldfish in a damn bowl are pets, no more." Sherrinford scoffed at his ginger haired brother.
Mycroft had slapped the glass of Scottish whiskey from his brother's hands. "You don't understand Sherlock."
"What's there to understand Mykie? Both of you are soft, how do you expect to get anywhere in a political arena when your damn little brother is a drug addict. He'll fail out of school. He needs to learn to assimilate, and at least act normal. And you do that again to my drink and I'll break your arm. I'm not in the mood." The eldest Holmes took a dangerous step closer to his brother not yet as tall as him but almost. He expected Mycroft to take a step back but to his surprise the ginger haired brother did no such thing.
"He's an embarrassment. Mycroft. I agree with Sherrinford. He'll ruin us all."
"Father, he's sick-" The middle Holmes turned from the challenging glare of his brother to his father. The younger man wore a grey suit and blue silk tie, he pulled on the sides of the jacket.
"Mycroft always the diplomat." Sherrinford laughed. "Going to fix him then little brother?"
"Mummy will be upset." Now that was a low blow, he was getting desperate.
"Mummy will be upset." Sherrinford mimicked his brother rolling his eyes moving to stand next to his father. "She's out of the country on some book tour."
"He'll have one last chance. He finishes this rehab and then a year of counseling if he relapses that's it. He's cut off. I wont have a son of mine wasting his genius on drugs and whatever it is that he's up to."
"He'll fail." Sherrinford poured a healthy glass of scotch.
"Yes, that he will. But at least we can tell your mother we tried. And we'll wait to give her news of this recent relapse when she returns."
Mycroft remained still turning his back on the two men discussing the younger Holmes as if he were a dog needing to be put down.
"You're too soft Mycroft. One day you'll learn that sentiment isn't an advantage." Father's words were spoken with his usual cold condescension. A tone that Mycroft would come to perfect years later.
Sherrinford pulled out of his memories, taking in the sight of his two brothers. Of course the middle Holmes was first to recover from the shock of seeing Sherrinford.
"Surprise, not dead." The elder Holmes put the glass down on the table next to his chair not bothering with a coaster. Scotch hadn't been his thing anyway, he could give in to that particular demon after this meeting.
"Don't do it brother. The moment you hit the silent alarm, you'll find me less cooperative."
"So why are you here Sherrinford? Come to finish the job you failed at so long ago?"
The eldest Holmes didn't miss the way Sherlock moved closer to the British Government. Well that was a turn up? These two had grown close over the years? Of course, Mycroft was always babying the youngest brat.
There was something else in the way Sherlock was looking at him, his familiar gray eyes ran over Sherrinford with an uncomfortable intensity he had to bite back the urge to squirm.
Still there was a coldness in those gray eyes, and Sherrinford knew it well, it was the same he found in himself when looking in the mirror.
"Oh, Mykie, little brother, you think to much of yourself. You were the first contract I ever failed at." Elise was the second.
"Then what do you want? Why are you back? "
"And why aren't you dead?" Sherlock added.
"I need some information and you're going to give it to me." Sherrinford stood now ignoring his youngest brother and the signature eye roll.
"You seem confident in your beliefs." Mycroft lifted an eye brow.
"Yes, well. I have some information that you will find useful. We could trade. Besides it's nothing of importance. I just wish to reconnect with someone. And I cant seem to get him on the phone. I was wondering if you could just dial up to MI6 and have him delivered here for a family reunion. I would do it myself but it seems being dead and all it would cause quite the stir among my old colleagues."
"That and the fact that you are a traitor that went rouge and tried to kill your own brother, wouldn't make them a bit apprehensive either."
"Oh, please Sherlock you're just jealous. I actually managed to get close and nearly did what you've only ever dreamed of." Sherlock took an angry step forward but Mycroft halted him with a mere lifting of his hand.
Interesting again. "I'm in no mood for this! We have work to do Mycroft. I cant just sit around. Have your men arrest and torture him so we can get on with more important matters."
"Come on now. Don't be that way. And don't you have somewhere to be some little crime to solve? Or some back alley to OD in? Let the adults talk Sherly."
Mycroft stepped between his brothers, "He's right." Mycroft snapped. "We don't have the patience or the time. So tell me what it is you want, I'll politely decline and I'll have my men escort you to a very comfortable cell."
"Why not just have them shoot him right here. Any intel he has would be compromised. Let me shoot him Mycroft."
"Sherlock, the carpet. We've had this discussion. Besides what would Doctor Watson say if he returned and finds that I've let you murder another man, let alone your own brother-"
"You wouldn't tell him. Because then you would explain to him why you neglected to inform him of the existence of another Holmes brother. He gets so touchy about these kinds of things."
"Yes, that he does." Mycroft sighed.
"We are wasting time! John can be anywhere by now. Just kill him and be done. I'll buy you a new carpet."
Sherrinford didn't know how he felt about the two discussing his death as if he were a dog to be put down. However he had an opening and decided to run with it.
"Ah, the good Doctor Watson. He does have a firm right hook doesn't he. For a man who dresses in brown jumpers I wouldn't expect him to have such a temper." Sherrinford caught the change in both his brothers, Mycroft's face was expressionless but there was a slight hardening to his jaw, Sherlock on the other hand didn't hide his sudden anger/worry at the mention of John's name.
"Where is he?" Sherlock growled stepping closer hands in the pockets of his ridiculous bellstaff coat. When did he exchange the leather jacket and hoodie for this over dramatic monstrosity? At least he had taken to wearing the expensive suits.
"He's in a safe place. Now-"
"Prove it." Sherrlock snapped. "I want proof of life."
"Oh, Sherlock. Sentiment? I thought Mycroft would have taught you better by now."
"Sherlock." Mycroft warned.
"Listen to your big brother. He knows how to negotiate. Why don't you go get yourself some warm milk and-"
Sherrinford knew he was pressing buttons but he wanted to see everyone's cards. And though he expected a reaction he didn't expect his youngest brother to pull out a service pistol, a browning of all things.
"Show me proof of life. I am not in the mood."
Mycroft sighed heavily and pinched the bridge of his nose.
"Little help here." Sherrinford crossed his arms over his chest, Mycroft didn't reply instead he went to pour himself a drink.
"Alright, fine, here." Sherrinford slowly reached into his pocket and withdrew his mobile he clicked on the live feed of John Watson still slumbering away peacefully in the room he had him locked safely away in.
His brother held the gun steadily and continued but his eyes went to the screen. The eldest Holmes read something in that quick glance, he filed it away for later contemplation.
"It's a live feed. He's fine. Just a little jet lagged or drugged who's to say. Now that we have our hands out on the table, here's what I want. I need to speak to our dear cousin Alcott, I figure he's busy and I cant reach him so I would appreciate it-"
"What do you want with him?" Mycroft asked in his unconcerned tone.
"That's my business."
"It will take a bit of time to-"
"Don't bullshit me. Just ring up the damn Quartermaster. I'm sure you have him on speed dial. I need to talk to him and I need to do it without the suspicion of my former colleagues."
"Why are you so certain he'll wish to speak to you. I doubt he even knows who you are."
"Again that's my business Mycroft. Just get on the phone-"
"And if I don't?" Mycroft downed the last bit of his drink.
"Then I guess the loyal dog wont make it home after all. Tragic, I guess I can put him down humanly."
"I'll kill you."
"You don't have it in you brother." Sherrinford narrowed his eyes on the younger brother.
"You have no idea of what I'm capable of. I will not make this quick and I wont go easy on you. Now, where is he?"
" Who are you working for this time Sherry?"
"Let's just say a very pissed off party. Now. I wont ask again. I'll have him terminated right now. The men I have guarding-"
"Shut up." Sherlock hissed, still holding the browning directly on his eldest brother. "You're lying. "You're working alone."
"Am I? I'll give you some time to think on this. Four hours I'll contact you and we can make a trade off. I don't expect to see Q in person but I do expect a number to reach him on a secure line. Wouldn't want MI6 to catch wind that he's talking to a criminal. It'll look bad on us all I'm sure."
"Sherlock let him go. I'm sure our brother can be true to his word. We'll in fact have the information exchanged at a place of Sherrinford's choosing. I'll have one of my most trusted operatives deliver the message.
Sherrinford narrowed his eyes, that was almost too easy, "Don't follow me or I'll have to do something you would regret." The ex double O left the room leaving his drink untouched.
"Mycroft?" Sherlock tried to pull out of his brother's grip.
"Let him go. We'll handle this. We know John's in London, and in a safe location. It's better than the inside of a trunk we originally saw him in. Besides I know just the man to deliver our message. "
"Q is missing." Sherlock hissed.
"Yes and he doesn't know that. But what bothers me is he knows that our cousin works for MI6, something that not even you knew until three years ago. I want to know how he has obtained this knowledge and why he wants so badly to speak to our cousin. I know just the double O who would also be interested in acquiring this information."