Mycroft knew he was treading on thin ice. "I need you to give this matter your full attention Sherlock. Is that quite clear?" He needed Sherlock on this case, but he couldn't let his little brother find out.

"What do you think of this shirt?"

Though it was quite hard with his brother acting this way. Still he couldn't let his agitation control him, or else all his carefully laid plans would be destroyed. But he couldn't quite hold in an exasperated, "Sherlock."

"I will find your underground terrorist cell Mycroft." The younger Holmes gave a sigh of irritation as he said this. "Just put me back in London. Need to get to know the place again, breathe it in. Feel every quiver of its beating heart." The aid standing in the room with the brothers began to talk after this, speaking of how an agent had died for their information. Mycroft had to withhold a scoff at this. Sherlock wouldn't care. He'd see the sacrifice as a useless waste. He snapped back to the conversation though at Sherlock's next words.

"And what about John Watson?"

Here came the part he had been dreading. He had to be careful. He schooled his expression.

"John?"

"Have you seen him?"

"Oh yes. We meet up every friday for fish and chips." Oops. May have layed on the sarcasm there too thick. "I've kept a weathered eye on him." Which wasn't true. He had promised Joh he would leave him be. Also, the fact that he couldn't access the cameras at John's location without an international incident may have played a part. But enough of that.

He gestured for the aid to give Sherlock the false file they had pulled together. This was the moment of truth. As sherlock opened the file, a picture of John was revealed. He had gotten it from the acquaintance that he had sent John to work under. He needed to maneuver Sherlock away from the doctor though. "But haven't you been in touch at all? To…prepare him?" He knew he hadn't,he would have know, but it was the thought that counted.

Sherlock didn't look up from the false file when he answered. "Hm.. No..but..I think, i'll surprise John. He'll be delighted."

Plastering a smug look on his face, Mycroft crossed his arms. "You think so?"

"Yes, go down to Baker street and jump out of a cake."

"Baker street? He isn't there anymore. Why would he be? Its been two years. He's gone on with his life."

The younger Holmes' face screwed up. "What life? I've been away…. Where is he going to be tonight?"

Mycroft felt like pulling out his hair in frustration, but didn't for two reasons. One: that would be a sure tell to Sherlock, and Two: he was already losing his hair, he didn't need to speed up the process. He had to salvage the situation. "I don't know." he bit out, only for Sherlock to shoot back, "You always know," while suspiciously staring at his older brother. Mycroft just sighed. Well he tried. "He's out of the country. On vacation I believe."

The consulting detective smirked at his triumph. "Well maybe i'll just…drop by."

Oh god, how emotionally ignorant could his brother be. "You know, it is just possible that you won't be welcome…"

"No there isn't. Now where is it."

Mycroft almost smiled. Almost. "Where's what?" he asked with false innocence.

"Oh you know what," replied the consulting detective with exasperation. At that time, the aid which had slipped out of the room earlier returned, Sherlock's signature long coat in her hands. With child-like glee, Sherlock pulled on the coat, fussing with it till it fit him just right.

"Welcome back, ."

Curtly muttering a 'thank-you' to the woman, Sherlock turned to his brother.

"Now. Where is John."

Tapping his umbrella lightly on the floor, Mycroft seemed to think about it for a moment. Considering all his plans had just fallen to pieces he seemed oddly calm. But he was a Holmes. And they always had plans. They could unravel a person with one look. John Watson though, he was a different story. Whenever you thought you finally understod him, he turns around and does something completely unexpected. Mycroft knew this first hand. He could recall an example of this right after Sherlock's 'death.'

2 Years Ago : 3 Days since Sherlock Holmes declared dead

Mycroft stared down at his phone, reading the text that confirmed Sherlock was out of Britain, before slipping it into his pocket. Standing up from his desk, and grabbing the umbrella that had been dutifully leaning against it, the older Holmes began to walk out his office, intending to leave for the day. Now that his younger brother had been safely hidden, his work was done for today. He stopped walking though when he felt his phone vibrate again in his pocket. Sighing, he looked at the caller ID, only to frown when he saw the words JOHN W. on the screen. He tapped the message to open it.

I need a favor. We need to meet.-J.W.

Quickly he typed a reply.

I'll send a car.-MH

line break

John Watson looked surprisingly normal all things considered. His clothes were clean, his face clean shaven, hair well kept to military standards. But if you looked closely you could see very clearly he was anything but normal. His once bright eyes were dark and troubled, grief and pain swirling in them, dimming their once bright blue color.

Mycroft could clearly see all this. A pang ran through his chest. He faintly realized it was regret before dismissing the emotion. He didn't have time for them. What had been done was done. There was no turning back, it if the destruction of Moriarty's web came at the cost of this man, then so be it. He had a duty to his country.

Silence filled the abandoned dock yards where they stood. John stood in front of Mycroft, shoulders pulled back and a determined set to his jaw.

' I want to-'

'No.' John glared at Mycroft for his interruption. He grit his teeth.

'You don't even know what I was going to-'

'On the contrary John, I know quite well what you have called me here for." Twirling his umbrella the Holmes watched, slightly amused, as his brother's partner fumed at his interruption, before sighing in resignation.

'And?'

Mycroft's face grew hard as he stopped spinning his umbrella. 'And, John, I refuse. I will not let you re-enlist only to be blown up in Afghanistan. I promised Sherlock,' John flinched at the name, 'to keep you from harm.' A grim frown pulled at Mycroft's lips as he said this. He had been waiting for John to try something like this. It was only a matter of time. He may not be able to stop him from wallowing in grief, but he would protect the Watson. He had promised Sherlock.

'HAhahaha!' Almost dropping his umbrella in shock, the older man watched as John Watson doubled over in laughter. A hollow, bitter sound that was filled with pain. Finally, the shorter man got himself under control, save a few giggles here and there, and straightened from his hunched position where he had been holding his stomach.

'You-you thought I was going to ask to return to that desert hole? HA! As if.' John's face then turned hard as he looked into Mycroft's shocked eyes. 'No. I have much bigger plans. I need you to help me take down what is left of Moriarty.'

On the outside, Mycroft appeared only mildly shocked, while inside he was, dare he think it, panicking. John wasn't supposed to do this. He was supposed to want to return to the military, he would say no, and send him home with a pat on the back. If John got involved with Moriarty's web, he would discover Sherlock never died, and all this would have been for nought. Looking down into the doctor's eyes he could see an iron determination. He would do this with or without Mycroft's help. He needed to bend to his demands now or else he would have no control over the situation. A million scenarios ran through his mind, till he came to the one with the best outcome. He then spoke.

'You are going to do this with or without me,aren't you?'

John didn't answer, but the will in his eyes said it all. Staring into them, Mycroft could see he would not be swayed. And hidden under all this was barely concealed grief. A darkness which had been shut away, but not forgotten. The Holmes looked away at this. He did not wish to see how much he and his brother's lies had broken this man.

'Very well. But know this. If you begin training, there will be no turning back. There will be no handicaps.' Mycroft let his eyes drift to john's shoulder and leg briefly to get the message across. 'And most important of all…'the taller man bent over so he was eye level with the man to drive the importance of what he was about to say home. 'NO ONE. Can know who you are.'

The doctor gulped, but nodded, never backing down.

Turning briskly, Mycroft walked a few paces while pulling out his phone. John jumped when he felt a hand on his arm. Anthea, or whatever her name was, was pulling him towards a black car, all the while staring down at her blackberry. Mycroft called over his shoulder as John slid into a cab that Anthea had called for him. The doctor looked back and saw Mycroft standing infront of a black car that had appeared out of no where with his assistant by his side. 'I'll send someone to pick you up in twenty four hours. I suggest you pack for a long trip.'

AN:/ So I decided to continue this. Thank you all for reviewing. Also, don't be mad, but I decided to make this a crossover. I hope none of you leave because of that. I made this chapter longer too. Over 1000 words, so..yay? Next chapter I will bring the Avengers into this. Anyway, R&R! Thanks.