CHAPTER 40. Father and Sons

Father had very much wanted to hold a meeting with John Watson, Mycroft was the one in charge of making this happen without his younger brother's knowledge. He decided it would be best to do so towards the end of the winter holiday. Of course all well laid out plans were horribly smashed to unrecognizable pieces when dealing with one Sherlock Holmes.

Mycroft was searching unsuccessfully for his favorite black umbrella, he had sworn he'd left it in the hall, where all the other umbrella's and canes had been kept. He'd searched the hall and nothing, now he was in the study thinking he may have left it near his favorite chair by the fire.

One of the maids looked nervously from the step ladder she perched on to dust the corners above one of the windows in the study.

"Oh dear Master Mycroft, better see what's going on outside by the garden wall. Looks like your father is liable to have a heart attack."

"When did father return I thought he was going to London until the new year?" Mycroft went straight to the window.

"I'm sorry sir, I don't know anything about that but I do know he left yesterday and returned early this morning. He's been on the phone with a Doctor Muller most of the morning."

Mycroft winced, that was the head of the Muller Clinic in Switzerland, where mummy was resting. Mycroft deduced the call would be because mummy was refusing her medication again. This would mean she wouldn't be home for Christmas let alone new years. Father would have expected her to accompany him to the Christmas ball, and all the social engagements that one in his position was expected to attend.

The older Holmes brother deduced that father would most likely be in a dark mood, conclusion, keep Sherlock out of father's way. From the sound of it Mycroft already failed horribly, he sighed heavily. He really hadn't really wanted to go sledding with the others but it was the opportune time to get to know Magnus Blair, Magnus had a cousin going into politics, and he was going to be sledding.

Instead the older Holmes brother found himself running down the hall for the nearest exit. Once outside Mycroft hurried to the garden wall where he could hear Sherlock shouting angrily.

"You don't care! Why are you even here?" Sherlock nearly squeaked, the veins on his neck and forehead straining, he gave a little hop when he spoke, trying to put every ounce of his anger behind those words.

Mycroft could see John Watson standing uncomfortably to the side nearest the wall, the snow was deeper here away from the walk way, so it came up to his knees, he wore a thin jacket with a brown hoodie under for added insulation. The older Holmes could see his brother's friend was nervously watching father and Sherlock, it wasn't until father took a step dangerously close to the younger Holmes that John was suddenly beside his dark haired friend, positioning himself between Sherlock and father.

"Uh, Mr. Holmes Sir-" John straightened up, as he was taught to respect his elders. "Excuse me for interrupting." Father's cold eyes bore down on the younger man, his lips curled in a sneer, an expression of disgust. "He's sorry. He wont do it again. Right Sherlock." John elbowed the younger boy. Who now shared a sudden look of shock that his father and brother were wearing. "I said right Sherlock." John was squeezing his friends arm, but keeping his eyes focused on the taller man who shared Mycroft's hair color and though the oldest Holmes brother did have the same shade of gray-green eyes, Mr. Holmes Senior's were harder, cynical and cold so very cold, that the young blond shivered.

Mycroft identify the exact moment when Sherlock realized that John and father were in close proximity. The dark haired boy had been trying to avoid this kind of meeting or any. Sherlock thought he'd managed to keep John's presence a secret.

He didn't know that Mycroft already had spoken to father about the blond boy. So acknowledging that father could say something to John, or maybe even order him off the property, sent the younger brother into a panic. Outwardly he remained defiant, but Mycroft could see the subtle changes in his brother's posture, the flushing of red from his neck to the tips of his ears had nothing to do with the cold. Even Sherlock's breathing was a little deeper.

"Sorry." Sherlock ground out through gritted teeth. Mycroft could see father was even more astonished. Then he snapped out of whatever small shock he'd momentarily experienced.

"No! I'm sorry! You're right Sherlock I don't care. I told your mother we should have stopped at one. But she wanted more-look what it's done to her. She's in a hospital refusing to eat or see anyone. And you nearly break your neck, I could careless. But your mother would surely die from that kind of news! She's already in there because of you! You ungrateful little monster! You! She was fine after Mycroft but she had you! I told her to be rid of you and she wouldn't! She's the only reason I allow you home from school on holidays!" Sherlock flinched from these words but didn't say anything. John closed his eyes grimacing as if he'd just seen his friend struck.

Sherlock had already turned without another word his father yelling. "I'm not done!"

John shot an angry look at Mycroft like he was at fault for not stepping in, and Mycroft felt guilty. He shoved the feeling away, John didn't know the tight rope he had to walk to keep the situation between father and Sherlock under control. Father meant it he could have Sherlock shipped off to a boarding school far off in Switzerland he'd pay the extra for the boy to never come home. And Mycroft would run the risk of disinheritance if he went against father's orders and visited. Or had any contact, didn't Sherlock understand this. Someday he would have power enough to keep his brother safe, to minimize threats and have a life of his own. Out from father's threat and the constant worry for his younger wayward brother.

This day, all he could do was watch his father clinch his fists and start back towards his running car in the drive. Sherlock and John were moving towards the house in the opposite direction, and Mycroft knew John would calm his brother down, as he would have to calm father. The aspiring government official so desperately wished he was back at school, or that he'd gone sledding.

He looked over his shoulder to see that John had caught up with the dark haired figure with a blue scarf. The blond boy had an arm around the younger Holmes shoulders and the two stood for a moment, then Mycroft blinked twice thinking he was seeing things. John Watson had Sherlock in a headlock, tucked under his right arm he was rubbing the boys head playfully. Mycroft knew it was playfully because he could hear their laughter, an odd feeling caused him to frown as he followed in fathers cold footsteps he made in the snow. Jealousy, it may have been Jealousy. He would need to reexamine this emotion later, for now he needed to deal with Holmes Senior.

~0~

It was later that day after father had left the house for London, and Mycroft deduced it would be his pretty blond secretary that would escort father to the social engagements. This bothered the older boy, but he as usual kept his emotions and thoughts to himself. Sentiment was viewed as a weakness.

He received a call from Royce who had driven John home after dinner. All Royce said was John's sister was in the hospital and he would be dropping the young boy off at the hospital instead of home, as John had requested, the problem being that Sherlock didn't want to leave John at the hospital.

Mycroft suspected it was an excuse to go through the cupboards and cabinets at the small town hospital. He called for Ronald to drop him off so he could help Royce collect his brother. He arrived to quiet a scene, Royce was arguing with Sherlock and John was nowhere to be seen.

"Excuse me! The hospital corridor is not the place for you and your son to be arguing people are trying to rest." The young doctor with black hair and horn rimmed glasses had her hands on her hips.

"Don't you have bed sores to treat, or bedpans to collect?" The dark haired boy no older than five or six snapped looking the woman over just as irritably.

"Pardon us Doctor." Royce frowned but the young master was only getting started.

"She's not a doctor Royce not yet at least she still has a residency to finish-" "Sherlock Holmes that is quite enough!" Mycroft cut his brother off before he could gain speed.

"We will be going." Mycroft put a firm hand on his brother's shoulder the Doctor sighed

"Good."

"Have fun cleaning-"

"Sherlock!" Mycroft gave his brothers shoulder a jolt. "We are going." Mycroft growled.

"I want to say goodbye first."

"Sherlock-"

"Manners dear brother, mummy said one shouldn't be rude."

"Indeed good advice, that I see you so selectively use at your convenience."

"Don't be so over dramatic Mycroft." Sherlock shrugged his brother's hand off his shoulder.