SHERLOCK POV
The tip of an umbrella taps in a steady rhythm against the ground. Sherlock is determined not to grind his teeth but is finding it hard not to.
"Brother. Is it true, what my sources say?" Mycroft asks slowly in a disinterested tone. He isn't fooling anyone. Sherlock is perfectly aware that Mycroft does indeed have a heart that cares, in a twisted manner, about his younger brother.
"It would probably depend on what your sources say." Sherlock mutters because he doesn't like where this conversation is going.
Mycroft sighs and the tapping stills.
"You attempted to take your life." Mycroft says blatantly.
"I suppose so." Sherlock replies not even attempting to find out how Mycroft knows that. Did John tell him?
"If it weren't for Mr. Watson—" Mycroft begins.
"If it weren't for Doctor Watson, I might not have been in the situation to begin with." Sherlock says deliberately emphasizing John's title.
Mycroft's eyebrow rises much higher than it should.
"It all comes back to John. You said it yourself." Sherlock says rolling his eyes as if he were talking to a little child.
"Sherlock. That is how the world works. Haven't you figured that out yet? There are such things as consequences." It's Mycroft's turn to roll his eyes.
"Was there anything else, brother?" Sherlock asks.
"I will be keeping closer eye on you. And your package is here. It's your last one so use it wisely. I'm cutting you off." Mycroft says and heads out the door.
Sherlock walks over to the box filled with his favourite drugs, one might say.
JOHN POV
John, against his better judgment, decides to check on Sherlock.
Sherlock is working on some experiment in his home-lab in the kitchen. The sight takes John to the old days. The so-called simple days. Of course nothing was ever simple with that man.
"John! There's a robbery I am working on so I will be quite busy but I have a number for a really good babysitter if you ever needed one." Sherlock says. John takes in his appearance and if his heart wasn't telling him otherwise he would have thought the past couple of weeks had not happened. He was wearing suit pants, a blue dress shirt and his hair was tamed. John couldn't help but gape.
"I know that the next few months will be difficult but if you need help I will do my best." Sherlock says. John doesn't bother telling Sherlock that the next few months won't be the only difficult ones. Try next years, maybe even life.
"What is that?" John points to Sherlock's arm.
"Hm?" Sherlock hums but hides his arm out of John's view.
The doctor stomps over to the kitchen and forcefully pulls Sherlock's arm to himself.
"First the cigarette at the hospital, now patches. And these? These are what exactly Sherlock?" John points to small spots where needles had definitely made their way before. They were quite new.
Sherlock doesn't reply.
"And the scars on your body? What are those?" John asks.
"Occupational hazard." Sherlock replies simply and continues tinkering with his experiment tools.
"What happened to you in the time that you were…dead?" Both of them wince as John calls Sherlock 'dead'.
"Nothing that I couldn't handle." Sherlock replies not looking at John.
"That's not what I asked." John stands and waits.
"Why does it matter John? There's new case, gotta hurry." Sherlock is about to leave but John's hand on Sherlock's chest stops him.
"You aren't going anywhere until you tell me."
Sherlock sighs.
"I told you. I had to dismantle Moriarty's network. That meant dealing with a lot of…aggressive people."
"You could have sent a bloody army and instead you go out there yourself? Are you still that high and mighty Sherlock? You could have died! Proper died!" John yells arms in the air in disbelief.
"And you're using." John says.
Sherlock doesn't reply.
"How are you getting your supply?"
"Are you asking so that you can cut me off? It doesn't matter, that was my last supply, I already got cut off." Sherlock mutters annoyed.
John frowns and then realization dawns on him.
"Your brother is your bloody supplier? Your brother?" John asks.
Sherlock smiles.
John hangs his head.
"I can't do this Sherlock. I…I just can't. I thought I could but I can't. For so long I had wished that somehow you would be alive. But I'm an only father Sherlock. I have a daughter that I have to take care of. I can't take care of you like I used to, that's a 24 hour job. I have to protect her." John says.
Sherlock frowns.
"Protect her?" He asks confused.
John looks away.
"Protect her…from you…" John says and closes his eyes.
"John, wait…" Sherlock begins but John is already on his way out, his heart heavy in his chest.