Chapter 13
"You're going to have to be extremely careful about this. I'm not a physiotherapist, John".
Karen helped John sit up straight in the bed and hang his legs off the side. John had practically begged her to help him walk earlier than his physio appointment. Grimacing, he tried to ignore the pain that flared up in his leg.
"I'll be fine. Trust me. I need to get up and do something before I die of boredom," he reassured. Karen put one arm around his back and held onto his hand with the other. Slowly, she helped him onto his feet. The ex-army doctor yelped quietly when weight was placed on his leg. It was only the damaged calf muscles moving beneath his healing wound, and he knew full well it was only going to hurt more if he decided to continue. That was a chance he was willing to take.
Karen noted the yelp and held him up. "Are you going to be okay?" she asked, concerned. John nodded sharply. The nurse very slowly let go of John, letting him hold up his own weight, which he did with only a small groan. The chairs in the room were set up as a sort of railing for John to hold on to whilst he took his first steps.
"Now, hold on to the bed and the chairs, and try to take a step. I'll be here if you need me okay?" Karen let go of John entirely, leaving him to hold himself up. The first step was nearly excruciating, mostly because he could feel the muscles pulling on the ruined skin, tearing in places. Biting his lip hard, he took another step. The walking was surprisingly easy, and with each step, he became much more confident that it was going to work. Karen smiled and urged him on with words of praise. John walked to the bathroom and looked in the mirror. He was still covered in bandages, but the winning smile on his face was enough to distract from it. He walked back to the bed and sat down, smiling from ear to ear.
"Great work John! That was really good. We probably should have waited until your appointments first," Karen hooked him back up to the machines as he lay down in his bed.
"Pfft, they'll try and give me electrotherapy and force me into exercises that I'm not convinced will actually do anything for my leg. It's good to be up and about on my own terms. Thanks for helping me out," he grinned. There was no way he wasn't feeling better. He had the sudden urge to text Sherlock and tell him, but stopped himself before reaching his mobile. Business trip, remember? He though, and withdrew his arm from its outstretched position. Maybe he'd just wait for Sherlock to see for himself?
There was one room in the Holmes manor that Sherlock had never ventured in his life. He knew that Mycroft had been inside on more than one occasion. Now that the owner of the room was no longer around, it seemed a perfect opportunity to let curiosity get the better of him. Without a sound, the detective slipped out of the library and into the west corridor. Unseen, he strode efficiently to the staircase and up the stairs to the door he was looking for. It didn't take him very long at all to realise the door was locked, and that the lock was nearly unpickable. A heavy groan of annoyance escaped his pale lips, and he leaned his forehead on the door.
"Would you like the key?" Mycroft stood at the top of the stairs, smiling. Sherlock sighed.
"Am I being monitored in my own home?" he replied, turning to face his older brother.
Mycroft laughed, "Why would I need to do that? You're a big boy now. I was on my way up here anyway, but it seems I'm not the only one who had that idea. Now step aside, I'll unlock it".
Pulling a silver pocket watch from his vest pocket, he grasped the small key attached and swiftly opened the door. Sherlock entered the room after him and looked around. The room was very neat, with books lining one wall and paintings lining another. A brilliantly carved writing desk sat facing a stone fireplace on the opposite side of the room. The whole place smelled of cigar smoke and antique cologne. It all looked as if it were from the 1900's. There wasn't a page out of place anywhere. Mycroft walked straight to the desk and sat down. Sherlock walked around, taking in all the data he could.
"I assume there was a reason that Father didn't want us in here?" Sherlock said quietly, sitting down in the large armchair beside the fireplace.
Mycroft pulled a book off the shelf behind him and opened it. "Father never thought you would be interested," he spoke. Sherlock let out a small chuckle.
"It's not as interesting as I was expecting, to be honest," Sherlock remarked with a small smirk. He picked up a book from the small coffee table and opened the cover. In the name space, the words Siger Holmes were written in elegant writing. Mycroft looked up.
"Sherlock, I think it's about time we end this little feud, don't you think?" he sighed. Sherlock was silenced for a moment by the sincerity of the request.
"Why do you say that?" the younger sibling inquired.
"It's becoming tedious, Sherlock, and you know it too," Mycroft responded.
Sherlock looked his brother in the eye. "Why do you really want to?" he questioned. Mycroft smiled a little bit, then sighed.
"I worry about Mummy. You know she's not healthy, Sherlock. I know you've seen it too. We're all she has left, and we can't even be in the same room for five minutes together without causing a war. We can't upset her anymore," Mycroft said very quietly.
Sherlock knew Mycroft was telling the truth. "I wasn't the one who upset her," he retaliated.
Mycroft stood quickly. "We've both upset her, Sherlock! John was right, you are incredibly ignorant about some things!" the older man shouted, making Sherlock blink, stunned for a minute. He hadn't heard Mycroft shout like that for a very long time.
The detective stood. "Why don't you go ahead and tell me! Tell me everything I've missed in all of my years! Go ahead and tell me all the things I've done to upset Mummy, and why not everything I've done to upset you while you're at it! " he shouted in return.
Mycroft silenced, realising his mistake. "You're right," he announced softly. Sherlock raised an angry eyebrow at his brother.
"I'm sorry? Wasn't I wrong a moment ago?" he snapped.
"You weren't there when Sherrinford died. Mummy hasn't been the same since. Sherlock, we need to get over this childish war. We're the only boys Mummy has left, and we need to show her that we can look after each other. I don't know how long she'll be around for, but I don't want her to go to the grave with the knowledge that her sons are in some ridiculous vendetta. We're being selfish. Please, Sherlock," Mycroft stepped over to his brother, who stood wide eyed.
"Who's Sherrinford?" Sherlock asked quietly. Mycroft looked at him with sincere eyes.
"Sherrinford Holmes, eldest son of Siger Holmes. Our brother," he replied in a quiet, low voice.
Sherlock's mind went haywire, trying desperately to process the information he'd just taken in. Why hadn't he known about his oldest brother? Why did nobody tell him that he even had another brother? Mycroft put his hand on Sherlock's shoulder.
"Mummy never wanted to talk about it. Even the mention of his name made her walk out of the room to be alone. Please, Sherlock. We need to stop being so selfish," Mycroft explained.
Sherlock just nodded. "For Mummy," he accepted. His brain racing a hundred kilometres an hour, Sherlock exited the room and swiftly travelled back to his own. He flopped down onto his bed and stared at the ceiling. It was the first time since John's kidnapping that Sherlock's great mind had been chaotic to any extent. The only thing he wanted to do was speak to John. Reaching out to the bedside table for his phone, he suddenly decided it was a bad idea, and rolled over, clutching one of his many pillows. John's probably asleep. I shouldn't disturb him. What was the point of calling his friend when he was going to see him tomorrow?
A:N: I hope you guys don't mind, but I've played around a bit with what little research I've found on the Holmes family. I'm literally just making up ideas as I go along when it comes to Siger and Sherrinford Holmes. It's only really confirmed that Siger was the father and Sherrinford was the oldest brother. No other information is really confirmed by anybody, so what's written is merely head cannon.
Hope you enjoyed!