10th September, 2017
Diogenes Club
"You are aware of what will happen tomorrow?"
Mycroft watched his brother closely. It had been some time since he had last seen Sherlock in person, though he still followed most of his steps on CCTV. He wondered if he would ever consider Sherlock grown up enough to stop checking on him, but the duty of an older brother was not easily omitted.
Sherlock returned his look unblinkingly, his expression not giving away any emotion.
"Sherlock, I know I should feel honoured that you bothered to attend this meeting at all, but just the tiniest bit of cooperation would be helpful to get it over with more quickly!"
Mycroft knew his voice was slightly angered. There were more important matters to attend to; the Foreign Secretary of Germany had been waiting for his call for almost two days now.
The younger Holmes rolled his eyes. "Of course. I am fully aware of the fact that John Watson is going to be released from prison tomorrow. I just don't see the point in discussing the matter with you."
Mycroft leaned back in his armchair, pleased that his brother had finally chosen to talk.
Maybe they would be able to settle the matter quickly after all, even though Sherlock did not seem too adept to talk to him. He was used to it though: they hadn't had a real conversation for decades. He sighed, fighting the urge to glance as his clock as he knew, Sherlock would notice. Maybe he could phone Steinmeier from the car... His eyes focused back on Sherlock. He needed to determine something first, though.
"You're not planning on doing anything... stupid, are you?"
Now that he'd reached the actual purpose of this appointment, Mycroft eyed his brother warily, looking for any twitching muscles or change in his rhythm of breathing, the only signs that could possibly give Sherlock's feelings away .
"The term 'stupid' doesn't suggest I'm planning it, does it?"
Mycroft sighed. "You know very well what I mean. Any new attempts to clear his name, investigations... I don't want to be confronted with a commissioner telling me you were manipulating testimonies and witnesses again, Sherlock!"
Sherlock scoffed. "I hardly manipulated anything. I just pointed out that it is impossible to see the river from where she claimed to have been standing. But why would I try such things anyway? I don't care about any of this. And if I did, don't you think I would have acted earlier?"
Mycroft's eyes rested on Sherlock for a while. Back when Sherlock was a teenager, Mycroft had been superb at reading Sherlock, had known the black haired boy's emotions even better than Sherlock had known them himself, but that had changed. Sherlock had gotten better at concealing his emotions and Mycroft had not spend enough time with him to be able to read his body language flawlessly. He could guess though.
"I know that you think you wouldn't care. You're even convinced so. But emotions are quite tricky, Sherlock. They can easily take the better of you... Besides, didn't you once say that John Watson was your only friend?"
"No", Sherlock said. "No, I think I put it differently."
Mycroft rolled his eyes. "Yes, of course. You said you didn't have FRIENDS but just had one. I suppose you weren't referring to me?"
Sherlock raised an eyebrow. "Not that I'd put spying on your own brother beyond you, Mycroft, but I wouldn't have thought it was a 24/7 observation..."
Some years ago, Sherlock's accusing tone would have hurt him, but he was long past it. Now Mycroft wasn't even annoyed anymore. It had become part of their relationship, just as Mycroft searching for Sherlock's face on CCTV had become part of it.
"It wasn't. That's just something we found on Moriarty's records."
"Which you trust to be reliable?"
Mycroft ignored the remark as well as the raised eyebrow.
"Just make sure you stay focused, Sherlock. I suppose I could find some interesting case to distract you..."
Sherlock gave a curt nod, but Mycroft knew he wasn't expressing his agreement.
Then, the Younger Holmes rose to his feet.
He had already reached the door, when Mycroft called him back: "Are you going to contact him?"
Sherlock hesitated. "I haven't in the last twelve years. Why would I do it now?"
But Mycroft took this as a 'yes'. There were hundreds of reasons why his brother would contact John Watson, and it wasn't just that he had been the only one Sherlock had ever cared about. No. He had also been the one case his brother hadn't been able to solve.