Sherlock story
Deleted Memories, Chapter 134
Warning: post Reichenbach spoilers. Hope you enjoy
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A/N: conclusion DU problème means conclusion of the problem
If there is anyone out the that is fluent in french can you please check the grammar of the above statement? I wanted to say conclusion to the problem, conclusion of the problem, or the problems conclusion. Whichever is the most appropriate and correct to end a statement. Thanks.
"The ultimate measure of a man is not where he stands in moments of comfort and
convenience, but where he stands at times of challenge and controversy."~ Martin Luther King, Jr.
Mycroft ended a call and spoke quietly with Anthea. He then said something to Thomas who left quickly.
He glanced at the table where the pictures of a bleeding John and the bloodied lock of John's hair were. There was a promise to next time send a fingernail with a finger attached.
Both were a gift from Ayyad.
Sherlock had not contained his rage. Mycroft tried to use logic to assure Sherlock calmly that head wounds bleed profusely and always look worse than they actually are.
It had been the wrong thing to say.
No matter how much they argued the brothers never once physically laid a hand on each other. However, at that moment when Mycroft made the comment about head wounds and looked into Sherlock's eyes, he saw wrath in its purest form.
Mycroft was not accustomed to open displays of emotion from Sherlock, particularly in public. He almost subconsciously took a step back.
Almost.
Mycroft Holmes in reality backed up to no one.
The elder Holmes had to admit privately, now that Moriarty was dead; no one concerned him because no one could match him in any way. No one that is except Sherlock, a now angry and irrational Sherlock.
He did not want to think about what his brother went through this last go around that caused Sherlock to be so explosive and highly emotional.
Thomas had talked to Mycroft. His private physician was on the way. Sherlock would be examined and treated whether he agreed or not.
Mycroft paused briefly.
The idea of forcing Sherlock to be examined brought an unfamiliar sensation knocking at the door of his heart. Mycroft did what he always did when all unpleasant and inconvenient things such as emotions tried to enter. He did not answer the knock; he kept that door closed.
His mind took over easily.
It was necessary. Sherlock would be examined and treated and that was that.
His mind turned to Ayyad.
Ayyad being back in England was a mistake. Was the man really that arrogant and that use to getting away with his every whim, that he believed he could come to England twice with the intention of blowing up something British, and tormenting his little brother?
Ayyad wanted to hear Sherlock finally scream.
Mycroft swore to himself that if he ever got Ayyad into his custody, he would be the one to scream.
Repeatedly.
Mycroft was eager to welcome Ayyad to England.
He looked at the picture again.
The message that accompanies the picture was simple. It was to be a simple exchange, Sherlock for John. The next souvenir promised to be an e-mail video with sound, so that Sherlock Holmes could enjoy seeing and hearing Doctor Watson as he was broken by Ayyad, personally.
Mycroft sighed, pinched the bridge of his nose, and then walked over to Sherlock.
Sherlock, without looking, knew it was Mycroft and said when Mycroft approached, "It's my decision Mycroft."
"No!" The room went quiet at Mycroft's angry outburst.
It surprised and annoyed Mycroft that he had raised his voice, again.
No one ever witnessed their boss even in the most critical situations, lose his composure, now twice in less than an hour, Mycroft had raised his voice.
Mrs. Hudson and Lestrade looked at the floor, uncomfortable by the exchange, but unwilling to leave Sherlock's side.
Mycroft lowered his eyes and regulated his breathing, when he opened them again, the "ice man" was back.
"Sherlock I care for John as well, but we both know that they're not complete idiots, they will simply use John against you, Find out if you know about the last intended target, get the location of Mrs. Adler, yes Sherlock I did figure it out , and then kill you both. They would probably throw in a little group torture for fun."
Mycroft eyes narrowed before he continued.
"What do you think they would do for a final, Sherlock? Let us see dear brother, as a conclusion DU problème, the both of you could be…say… blown up. But not to worry, that's only after you've both been completely humiliated, broken, and scarred!" He was close to Sherlock and not trying to hide his anger now.
He lowered his voice now and moved even closer so that only his brother and the two standing beside him could hear.
"I don't think you need any more scars Sherlock, do you?"
Sherlock face betrayed both fear and anger. Sherlock rose, he knew it was now or never. He had to risk Mycroft's anger; he had to risk his own.
He rose slowly and got directly in Mycroft's face.
"I have … dealt… with these men, they do not exaggerate. If they say they will send him back to me piece by piece starting with his fingers, they… mean… it!" Sherlock breathing was increasing.
Mycroft folded his arms now and had a grim expression "So… I hand you over so that they can kill you both, it that you're emotional, yet secretly brilliant plan."
Mycroft meant the word, emotion to be an insult.
Sherlock thought for a moment. He knew his brother and how far he could push him. He knew in all likelihood, either he would be locked in his room in the next fifteen minutes or Mycroft would yield.
"Use me. I know you have some kind of tracking system on me, probably my coat. That's how Thomas was able to find me when he took the batteries out of my phone. Use me as a decoy Mycroft. Have one of your best men follow me, discreetly of course, Have him call in the location."
Sherlock continued, encouraged by Mycroft's lack of interruption.
"If something should go wrong, activate the tracking system. It would take longer but at least you would have a general idea of which area I was in. Then do what you do best Mycroft, rescue me." Sherlock said this quiet enough for just Mycroft, Mrs. Hudson, and Lestrade to hear.
All eyes were on Mycroft who frowned and thought. In reality, his brother had a point. It was a good plan. If Mycroft were completely honest with himself, if it was anyone other than Sherlock he would have come up with the plan himself, without a shred of guilt and remorse.
Mycroft now fought his logical mind to understand why he was unable to admit that this was indeed the best, although admittedly risky, chance of resolving the dilemma. He decided that he did not care how illogical it was, he would not risk his little brother.
Mycroft became like steel.
"This discussion is over, Sherlock." Mycroft smiled dangerously. "By the way, it's in your shoes not coat."
"No Mycroft, the discussion is… not over…, do you… intend… to… just… l… l… lock…," Sherlock was breathing too fast, still angry.
Mycroft eyed Sherlock suspiciously then his ice melted and he cleared his throat.
Lestrade put one hand under Sherlock's arm quickly.
"B...Bedroom," Sherlock whispered, while looking at Lestrade and while blinking rapidly.
Lestrade smiled supportively, and escorted Sherlock to his room.
Mrs. Hudson watched him leave with a curious look on her face.
Lestrade came back, "He's asking for you Mrs. H."
"Poor dear," Mrs. Hudson said, "I'd better get his sedative, it's in Johns ro…" Mrs. Hudson allowed one tear to fall. She wiped it away quickly then put on a brave smile walking quickly toward John's room.
Mycroft tilted his head and looked at Mrs. Hudson's retreating form. He then looked at Sherlock's door. He then looked at Lestrade who had joined the other group and was on his phone again.
"Hum," Mycroft said to himself.
Mrs. Hudson came out quickly with a bag going into Sherlock's room now.
Both she and Sherlock emerged ten minutes later. Sherlock was breathing more normally, but was looking down, refusing to look at anyone. He seemed to have deflated, all anger gone.
"I'm taking him downstairs, he needs to get out of this place for a minute; I'll have him lay down for a bit. The pills usual work fast." Mrs. Hudson explained to Mycroft quietly.
"Need help Mrs. H.?" Lestrade pulled the phone from his ear and cover it with one hand.
Mrs. Hudson looked at Sherlock then replied.
"No dear, everything is sorted." She then proceeded to slowly help Sherlock down the stair; his arms were on the shoulders of the smaller woman.
Mycroft frowned then opened his mouth to say something. He never got a chance he was interrupted.
"Mr. Holmes we may have something sir." Anthea called while waving her phone.
Mycroft walked away hurriedly.
A/N: I tried to get extra chapters up before the work/school week started. I know everyone is use to an update almost every 24 hours, but I may not be able to update per regular, sorry. However, I will as soon as possible.
****Please comment and review, whenever I am tired I read some comments and it motivates me to push a little harder. Stay safe. ****
Lots of Love to all.