Chapter 15
Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock or anything.
Sherlock reached John's bedroom and opened the door. John sat facing away from him, sat on the edge of his bad. Sherlock sighed and sat next to his brother.
"I do think that it is a shame that we never got to grow up together." Sherlock said.
John looked over at Sherlock.
"We probably would have caused lots of trouble." John said with a smile.
"Of course. Listen, John, We can't change what has happened, but we can move on. Moriarty is trying to toy with us, you're right. So let's take this in our stride, we have to deal with it. This is what he wants, he wants to break us. So let's not give him what he wants. Let's deny him that." Sherlock said.
"Fight back." John stated.
Sherlock nodded with a smile.
"At least we know the truth now." Sherlock reasoned.
"Yeah, we could have gone on for years and never known." John said.
"C'mon, let's finish off this test. I want to know how I got out of dying." Sherlock said.
John nodded and the two walked down the stairs.
"You okay now, sweetheart?" Rose asked John as the twins sat down.
"Yep." John said.
"Well, after that little domestic, let's get back to the story, boys and girls." Moriarty said.
The recording continued.
John was screaming and crying, rocking Sherlock as he did so.
The guard with the syringe scraped his foot against the ground.
John suddenly stopped screaming and took his face out of Sherlock's shoulder.
He looked up at the man and then looked at the syringe in his hand.
Then John's gaze went back to Sherlock, then slowly over to the gun on the floor.
"NO!" Sherlock, Hamish, Rose, Mycroft and Harry shouted.
John looked back at Sherlock. He kissed Sherlock's forehead and lowered him gently to the floor.
John stood up. He was crying, silently. John walked over to the gun and picked it up. It was already loaded and ready. All John had to do was pull the trigger.
John stood in front of Sherlock's body and pointed the gun at the man.
"You... murdered... my little brother. My. Sherlock." John said, his voice shaking. "He's DEAD!" John shouted.
The man dropped the syringe.
"I'm going to kill you. So run." John whispered.
The guard turned and ran for the door.
John pulled the trigger BANG! The enormous sound echoed and the guard fell instantly.
John lowered the gun and breathing harshly he knelt back next to Sherlock.
"There we go. Nobody can hurt you now. Don't be sad, Sherlock, you won't be alone for long." John said.
"No... not my baby." Rose whispered and began crying.
"What?" Anderson asked.
"John is going to kill himself." Donavon said, looking like she wanted to be sick.
John put the gun against his temple and closed his eyes.
"NO! John!" Jack ran in.
John stood and backed away.
"No! Leave me alone!" John said and pointed the gun at Jack.
Jack put his arms up and took slow steps forward.
"John, I know you're scared, I know you're sad. But you need to listen to me. Now, Sherlock isn't dead." Jack said.
"YES HE IS! He isn't breathing!" John shouted.
"Listen, John. They injected him with a substance that made his heartbeat and breathing slow down so it is almost non-existent. Give him the antidote and he'll be fine within an hour. It is just a nasty trick. They wanted to see what you would do. What you would do if you suddenly lost him. They want to find out how dangerous you both are, so they are testing your limits. They want to see what would make you a bad person. John, let me help Sherlock. I have the antidote with me, I can bring him back. Now give me the gun." Jack said as he came to stand in front of John and held out his hand for the gun.
John's grip loosened and Jack quickly pulled it out of the boy's grip and put it in his own pocket. John turned back to Sherlock and then looked up to the man.
"Please." John said.
Jack got another syringe out and rolled up Sherlock's sleeve. He jabbed the needle in and gave Sherlock the antidote.
"I need to leave. He'll be fine. Just wait." Jack said.
Before Jack could leave the room John said "Wait. What about the man I... killed?" John asked.
Jack walked over to the man and crouched next to him.
"You can stop pretending, Jones." Jack said.
The guard sprang up and said "You're helping them. I've heard everything. I'm going to Frederick with this." The guard made to leave, but Jack pulled a gun out and shot the man in the head.
Jack turned back to a stunned John.
"They anticipated this as one of your possible reactions. So he wore a shot vest. But I can't have anyone know that I help you, not yet... I'm a soldier, John. I've killed many, but never without a reason." Jack explained.
John nodded and Jack dragged the body out of the room.
John turned back to Sherlock and sat next to him, putting Sherlock's head in his lap.
The recording faded and Moriarty reappeared.
"Well that was clever. How are we all, enjoying this?" Moriarty asked.
Sherlock scowled and said "No, but thank you for asking."
"So, Sherlock, listen to this... I think it is quite interesting." Moriarty said.
The screen changed to a recording of an adult Sherlock and John, the recording was set in their flat during a drugs bust.
But all the officers were quiet as Sherlock stood there.
Sherlock leant over to look John in the eye "But if you were dying, if you were being murdered in your very last few seconds, what would you say?" Sherlock asked.
The television switched to Sherlock saying "Goodbye, John." Then it changed again to an adult John, he was being carried by a soldier, blood was everywhere as the soldier ran. John was barely conscious shouted "Sherlock!" Then the screen went to Sherlock stood opposite Irene Adler, he said "Sentiment is a chemical defect found in the losing side."
Moriarty reappeared.
"You two are so very sentimental. Your last words, the seconds before you die and you call for each other. There's nobody like you two. You really are quite extra ordinary." Moriarty complimented.
Everyone remained silent.
"Sherlock is always right. So are you on the losing side?" Moriarty asked.
Sherlock looked at his hands in his lap.
"What is wrong with sentimentality?" John asked.
"To Sherlock... everything." Moriarty said.
The screen changed to Hamish leading a five year old Sherlock down a corridor. He opened a door and lead Sherlock into a room. It was Mycroft's bedroom. The twelve year old sat on his bed reading a thick book.
"Mycroft, I need to go out. Can you look after Sherlock?" Hamish asked.
Mycroft marked his page, put his book down, and nodded.
"Daddy, please don't go." Sherlock said with tears in his eyes.
"I won't be gone for long. I promise, just half an hour. And, hey, Mycroft will look after you, he's good at that! I'll come straight back." Hamish said and picked Sherlock up.
"Remember, Mycroft, I'll come back soon, but if he gets hungry no sweets. Try to keep him occupied." Hamish said.
The tall twelve year old stood up. Hamish kissed Sherlock's temple and put him on the ground.
Mycroft took Sherlock's hand.
"Daddy, I want you to stay, please." Sherlock pleaded as tears filled his eyes.
"Son," Hamish knelt in front of Sherlock and put his hands on Sherlock's shoulders "You need to know that nothing bad will happen. You can't spend the rest of your life attached to me. You need to start being a brave boy, can you do that?" Hamish asked.
Sherlock burst into tears.
"No... b-because that w-was J-j-john!" Sherlock cried.
Hamish pulled his youngest into a hug and rubbed his back.
"I know you miss him... it's going to be alright." Hamish soothed. Sherlock calmed down and Hamish stood.
"Sherlock, everything will be fine, I promise." Hamish said and with a kiss to both his sons forehead's he left.
Sherlock stood there looking up at Mycroft.
"My?" Sherlock asked.
"Yes, Sherlock?" Mycroft asked.
Sherlock just stood there in silence.
Mycroft lead Sherlock over to his desk and pulled Sherlock up to sit on his chair.
"Look at this!" Mycroft said, attempting to distract Sherlock by showing him a calculator.
"What is it?" Sherlock asked as he turned it over in his hands.
"It's a calculator. You can do maths on it. It makes it quicker than doing it on paper or in your head." Mycroft explained.
"That's pointless. It is just another thing somebody has made to make everyone lazier." Sherlock said, placing it back on the desk.
Mycroft sighed.
"You can read your book now." Sherlock said.
"No, it's okay; I'll do something with you till dad gets back. What do you want to do?" Mycroft asked.
"What I want, I can't have, so why don't you read your book?" Sherlock asked.
Mycroft looked down at his shoes. "Sherlock, you can't spend the rest of your life crying over John. He's alive. He's safe. You both are." Mycroft said.
"But we aren't together." Sherlock said.
"We can't do anything about that, Sherlock. Look, John would want you to live." Mycroft said.
"How would you know?" Sherlock asked.
"Because he was my brother too." Mycroft said.
Sherlock looked into Mycroft's eyes. "He is. Is, Mycroft. Not was. He will always be my brother. That will never change. I won't let them have that." Sherlock said.
"Yes, your right, Sherlock. But you need to move on." Mycroft went back to his bed and began reading again. The two sat in silence for a few minutes.
"My... can I ask you a question?" Sherlock said.
"Yes." Mycroft said.
"I don't think I ever want to love anyone again. Is that wrong?" Sherlock asked.
Mycroft put his book down. "Why don't you want to love anyone?" Mycroft asked.
"Because it hurts." Sherlock said.
The screen faded.
Moriarty reappeared "Aawww, Sherlock used to have feelings. Such a sentimental boy. Oh, so sad, 'where's my John? Bring him back.' But Sherlock didn't like having feelings, so he pushed them away, till he ended up a cold genius. No friends. Just him." Moriarty said.
"He has friends now." John said defiantly.
"Well of course, he got you back." Moriarty said.
"Let us go back to the past." Moriarty said and he disappeared.
Author's note: Please review!