Sherlock story
Deleted Memories, Chapter eleven
Warning: post Reichenbach spoilers. Hope you enjoy
Late afternoon
Two Holmes in the same flat had been interesting. One was extraordinarily stubborn, the other just extraordinary. John sighed as he observed the two.
"I can do it myself Mycroft I'm not helpless," Sherlock managed in between grunts and grimaces, pain etched on his features.
"Of course you can Sherlock, but since I 'm here anyway…."
"Don't you have a government to run, dictator to overthrow or something?" Sherlock shot back weakly, legs wobbling.
"I have my phone and laptop, Anthea can run my errands, besides…," with a slight hesitation, "… some things are priority." Mycroft stated, arms around Sherlock while helping him to the couch.
Mycroft ignored the rude tone to his brother's voice; this was Sherlock's after all who could be discourteous and arrogant on his best days.
This was not his best days. He has good reason to be distressed, Mycroft admitted to himself.
Sherlock adjusted on the couch and looked into Mycroft's eyes, searching. Mycroft allowed him to look, and looked back, his usual guards were fully down. It was the first and only time John noticed Mycroft vulnerable.
Sherlock suddenly looked away, satisfied; then gave only a slight nod. Mycroft exhaled, not realizing he was holding his breath.
John felt a little uncomfortable witnessing the exchange. The Holmes brother's relationship has always been a mystery. Maybe, this was as close as they came to saying:
'I'm a git and I'm sorry Sherlock.'
'You are a git but I forgive you Mycroft.'
John did not blame Sherlock's hesitancy. Mycroft in reality had two people he had to prove himself too. Nevertheless, John had to admit that Mycroft had come through for them both. He had rolled up his designer sleeves and helped to change bandages, helped Sherlock take showers and get dressed.
It was surreal to see Mycroft actually being "hands on ". Surprisingly Sherlock, although begrudgingly, allowed it.
For now, John stayed in the shadows and watch. He did not completely trust Mycroft unsupervised with menial tasks. These are the type of things Mycroft usually ordered someone else to do.
Sure, Mycroft behind the scene practically ran the British government, but could he make a decent cup of tea? John knew Sherlock needed time to heal, and not just physically. He needed time to heal his relationship with his brother.
Mycroft busied himself by putting tea within Sherlock's reach and helping him adjust himself on the sofa. Satisfied that Sherlock's immediate needs were met, he walked some distance away.
After making a few phone calls, he walked to the window. He contemplated how the past few days seemed to have blurred by.
He marveled at how much paperwork was needed to legally bring one back to life.
It should have taken thirty days for the paperwork to clear. Mycroft had it done in hours. Well, there was some advantage of his position, Mycroft thought. Mycroft retreated into his mind where he categorized agenda items in order of importance.
There was the media; that had been taken care of.
John was not happy with the timing but Mycroft knew what had to be done.
This time Mycroft had not waited for the media to speculate. He controlled the press release that announced the resurrection of Sherlock Holmes. Luckily, the name of the late Sherlock Holmes was cleared a month earlier.
Sherlock was a hero again.
The hero that fake death allowed him to secretly work with the government.
The hero that heroically prevented a terrorist bombing, despite receiving minor injuries in the process.
Well, it was mostly the truth; apart from Sherlock somehow managing to do it alone, and being more than a little injured.
It was sickening how easily people were swayed with just a few words, to hate one minute to love the next.
Mycroft shifted his weight and exhaled heavily. He was standing with one hand leaning on the wall supporting his weight. He appeared to look out the window, but in truth, Mycroft was lost in his mind.
Mycroft's final consideration was to make sure that John and Sherlock were looked after. He glanced down at the street.
Satisfied that the detail he assign was still outside the flat, he retired to a chair and sat.
He had custody of two of Ayyad's men and one woman. They had hands on involvement in Sherlock's torture.
They would come to know why some called him the "ice man".