The doctors informed John that Harriet was going to be fine as long as she got her self off the drink, which both John and Harry knew was never going to happen. With the promise of AA meetings and lifestyle changes John left Harry. Even though he should of been focusing on her, his thoughts keep swirling around Sherlock. He hadn't meant what he had said, it was all heat of the moment. He wasn't angry at Sherlock it was all just bad timing. But there was a part of John that felt he should stay away just to let things cool off. It seemed the acceptable thing to do as both men certainly needed to re-evaluate what they meant to each other. Sherlock still had his cases to think about and John had his profession to consider. John was tempted to throw in the towel in relation to his 'job'. All though he still desperately needed the money he didn't want to feel an overwhelming sense of disgustingness every time he was with a client. Every touch, sound and smell of his work left him feeling sick and odious. It was only a matter time before John would have to give up his profession and look somewhere else to make a living. As for Sherlock although his cases were important in keeping his brain active he would certainly give it all up for John.
There had been no contact between the men for weeks now. Every day Sherlock refrained from texting John. Sherlock just needed to see him one more time even if it meant that John didn't want to see him any more after it. Cases began to dry up as London's criminal classes stop committing offences but also as the police force were actually using common sense; much to Sherlock's dismay. During these weeks Sherlock often sat just staring at the walls of Baker Street, he ignored Mrs. Hudson's attempts to clean around him and the flat and also ignored her attempts to give him food. What's the point of eating when it wasn't John trying to make him eat? Sherlock was acting as if had gone though a dramatic relationship break up, but in one way he had. He had lost the one thing that had been keeping him sane. After another day of observing the patterns in the wallpaper, Mrs. Hudson was at the end of her tether. She crept downstairs to her flat, picked up her house phone and dialed the number of Mycroft's personal mobile. Sherlock was going to resent her for that. She whispered down the line informing Mycroft that Sherlock was not psychologically well. She also made clear to Mycroft that she couldn't find any drugs in his flat but did mention what she believed the cause of Sherlock's behavior was; a man called John Watson.
Oblivious to both Sherlock and John, the wrath of Mycroft meant that the secret service of the British Empire (mostly Mycroft's minions) were now researching and looking for John for upsetting Sherlock. Mycroft's people worked day and night to track down every available piece of information about John. Every dental record, school report and even coffee order was found and sent straight to Mycroft. A file had been formed on John Watson the only piece missing was what John did for a living. After he was honorably discharged from army, there was no new information. This was strange. Everybody had to do something in order to survive; be it a job, crime or benefits. So what the hell was John doing? Mycroft observed CCTV images for John's flat. He observed many people going in and out of John's flat; Mycroft's first thought was drugs but that seemed to mundane for a Doctor that did his best to save lives. He almost missed the true nature of what was going on. He zoomed in the to image, although John's flat had a form of net curtains over the windows it didn't totally block the view. He watched as each one of these people were lead up to John's room for sex. Afterwards they would had over wads of cash to John. Putting the pieces together Mycroft realized that John was a male prostitute. The worst part about it was that Mycroft sat at his desk for a moment as he contemplated that his little brother had fallen in love with a prostitute. He didn't know whether to feel ashamed or bewildered at this thought.
Mycroft needed to see this John Watson in person, and he wouldn't be responsible for his actions.
A meeting was arranged. By arranged it meant that Mycroft was going to John's flat uninvited, of course he was the British Government he could do what ever he wanted.
As the slim black car with darken windows pulled up to John's flat, Mycroft readied himself for this meeting. It could go either way; Mycroft could want to destroy this man for hurting his brother or beg him to fix his brother. Umbrella in hand, Mycroft stepped out of the car and walked towards the entrance. He pushed though the door in order to search for the flat which belonged to John. Flat 5, he was here. Mycroft rapped his knuckles three times quickly on the door. There was shuffling to he heard as John inside made his way to the door.
As John wrenched open the door he was greeted by a posh man in a well tailored suit, clutching a umbrella as if ready to use it as a weapon.
"Hello Dr. Watson. My name is Mycroft Holmes, may I come in please?"
"Hold on. Holmes as in relation to Sherlock Holmes?" directly asked John. As he began to worry that something had happened to the curly haired detective.
"Yes, I am his brother. I need to speak to you. I'd much rather we talk inside than though a door way" hissed Mycroft. John let him in, not bothering to ask if he wanted tea or coffee.
"It's to do with Sherlock, isn't it? What's happened? Is he okay?" demanded John frantically.
"To be quite honest Mr. Watson you don't really have a right to know if Sherlock is okay, seeing as you are the cause of his problems" barked Mycroft while trying to look intimidating to the other man.
"What the hell are you talking about?" John was beginning to get angry now, why would this man just tell him is Sherlock was alright or not?
"My brother is a crushed man because of you Dr. Watson. All because you have broken his heart. It doesn't do emotions well and you have tipped him over the edge. His landlady says he wont move, wont eat and certainly doesn't sleep because of one thing; you" exclaimed Mycroft brandishing his umbrella round in front of John.
John stared at Mycroft dumbfounded. He never realised the true extent of what Sherlock felt about him. It always assumed it was one-sided, mostly.
"I suggest you fix this or leave Sherlock for good" implored Mycroft pleaded with his eyes towards John.
Mentally tossing up the pros and cons in his head, John finally came to his decision. He grabbed his coat, barged past Mycroft and ran in the direction of Sherlock's flat.
"Please God don't let Sherlock mess this up" whispered Mycroft in the now empty flat.
Here is your next instalment. Hope you guys like it! Once again feel free to comment, review, etc. If I have missed any mistakes, I apologise!
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