CHAPTER 41. FATHER and SON
"Harry had alcohol poisoning she's been here two days. John said they left a message on their answering machine. I don't know why he's so worried, I heard the nurses say it's not the first time. Obviously it wont be the last."
"Clearly." Mycroft nearly ran over his brother who came to a sudden stop, his small body tensed, the older Holmes still held a hand to his brother's shoulder, he realized what made his brother halt, it was a pleading voice. John's to be exact, and the way he spoke sounded so different from the usual easy going, cheerful John Watson.
"Please Harry, you have to go! Just go, please."
"Johnny I don't have a problem I'm not going away to some fucking rehab where they'll have me sit in a group and talk about my feelings! Let go!" Mycroft could deduce easily by the sound of her voice, by her words and the movement of squeaky trainers on a tile floor that John must be holding his sister's arm pleading.
"Harry you need-"
"Johnny stop it! Just stop! What do you know? Huh? You don't work? You just go off and spend your days with a head in a book, or playing dolls or whatever with your new friend! What do you know about anything!? Always acting better than you are! Playing the perfect little angel! You know what it didn't keep aunt what's her face around. And it sure as hell doesn't impress Dad. So drop this worried act! Huh, start looking out for yourself. Now let me go! I got to get out of here before he gets here, and you if you're smart you'll do the same! Goodbye John have a nice life."
Mycroft could see his younger brothers tiny fists clenched but Sherlock remained standing stiffly slightly tilted as if any moment he'd sprint towards his friend like a rocket, but some invisible force kept his feet glued to the floor.
"Maybe we should give them privacy Sherlock." Mycroft was pulling his brother by the arm when someone nearly ran them over heading down the hall not running but stalking really. The man was wearing green canvas jacket, and brown khakis, Mycroft thought he'd bathed in a tub of gin, cheap Gin from the the smell of it.
This stranger, shot a glare down the hall as that doctor Sherlock had insulted earlier called out at a near run. "Mr. Watson-wait."
"Fuck off!"
So that was John's father, he stood an average five foot seven, Mycroft was already taller than this man, and he wasn't even eighteen just yet.
"You little whore!" Mr. Watson had made it to the hospital room five doors away from where a stunned Mycroft and Sherlock were standing. There was a crash and Mycroft tightened his hold on Sherlock's shoulder the boy tried to pull away. Again Mycroft knew his brother was able to see what he did using their heightened senses and deductive minds.
"Fuck off!" Harry yelled. "You cant tell me what to do!"
"Stop! Dad! Wait. Just wait-" Mycroft flinched hearing the sound of a hand meeting skin this cut John's appeal short, the slap,echoed in the older Holmes's head even after the yelling continued.
"Shut it! Don't you talk!"
"I'm out of here!" Harry must have moved towards the door "Let go!" Mycroft could see security rushing down the hall. "Get off of me! I'm taking my worthless kids home!" And Harry made a break for it she ran full speed without looking scowling at the two brothers only in passing.
"Get off of me! I know the way out!" Mr. Watson pushed past the group of orderlies.
"Mr. Watson perhaps you would like some coffee or tea-" The resident doctor was trying to keep up with the stout man.
"I came in a cab don't preach at me." He growled. Holding the back of John's neck in a vice like grip, leading him forcefully towards the exit. "How you two kids turned out so disobedient and worthless, it would break your mother's heart. You're lucky she's gone. God bless her. She'd be here if it weren't for you. They said not to have anymore, and then you came along and killed her. And this is how you repay her." John didn't move he only allowed himself to be pushed out the exit, several onlookers just watching curiously.
All they could do was stand and watch, even Royce gripped his black hat twisting it in his hands, glaring at the bully of a man. What could Mycroft do? He wasn't a powerful government official, sure the Holmes had connections but to a degree, and father wouldn't use any of them to do anything to help someone else unless it benefited him in some way.
"Do something!" Sherlock begged his brother tugging at his big brother's hand.
"Come one Sherlock. Let's go home." he lead Sherlock out of the hospital, minutes after John and his father climbed into an older model car. Royce swore under his breath, holding their own car door open for the brother's to climb in, Mycroft told himself the reason he held his brother's hand was keep him from running off.
Later that night Mycroft received a call from a Doctor Bales.
"Hello is this Mycroft Holmes?"
"Yes. How can I help you." Mycroft held back a yawn.
"Mr. Holmes this is Doctor Bales we met earlier." Mycroft was on his feet now, nearly stumbling over his blankets that he'd thrown off of him. "I'm sorry to bother you, but it's your brother."
"My brother? Surely this is a mistake-"
"No, it's not anything life threatening. He's just here."
"What?" Mycroft pinched the bridge of his nose.
"Yes. At the hospital. I didn't know who he was other than having that brief run in with him earlier. "I got your number from John Watson. He said I should call you so you wouldn't worry."
"John?" Mycroft felt his stomach clench.
"Yes, he wanted to call you himself but he's um unable to. Are you family? I don't see you on the medical forms."
"I'm on my way." Mycroft resisted the urge to toss his flip phone across the room.
The roads weren't the best and it was snowing again, Mycroft ignored all the theories and emotions screaming to be acknowledged, instead he concentrated on the white of the snow.
Sherlock didn't get up to greet his brother he remained seated with his knees pulled to his chest. His face looked pale and Mycroft could see his brothers red rimmed eyes.
"Why are you here?" Sherlock grumbled into his knees.
"I could ask you the same." Mycroft snapped back, causing his brother to flinch. For reasons unbeknownst to him that reaction angered him even more so than being awoken in the middle of the night by a strange phone call.
"I only went back to return a book. I forgot I had it. It took longer to walk then I anticipated because of the snow. When I got there he was already leaving in his car. So I figured it would be just fine to go up to the house." Sherlock frowned still not meeting his brothers eyes, "The idiot didn't even lock the door behind him, then again what could anyone steal. He broke it all." Sherlock looked at his brother a question in the gray depths, one that neither Holmes knew the answer to because neither could find the word to form the question. It was so simple and yet too complex.
"Sherlock you know that you arent to walk anywhere let alone from the estate to town. You could have been injured or worse." The younger Holmes only scowled shrugging his tiny shoulders.
"I called his name and he didn't answer. I was-I was afraid. If that man John's father could break heavy things like the telly and their kitchen table what then could he do to John? Who is certainly no where near as heavy as the telly. I could see what happened Mycroft, it was worse then-then being there to witness it first hand. My mind could replay the events from the evidence of scuff marks and holes in the wall, broken glass-I couldn't shut it off so I panicked." Mycroft could see his brother clutching his knees now, small knuckles white. "And I found him in the bathroom trying to wash up."
"Sherlock." Mycroft was at a loss, he didn't know what to say or what kind of comfort to offer, this wasn't his area, and he didn't want to hear anymore.
"Mycroft there are eight carpal bones in the wrist divided equally in two rows. The row closer to the arm consists of four bones: scaphoid, lunate, triquetral and pisiform. The row closer to the hand consists of bones called trapezium, trapezoid, capitate and hamate. These bones provide a connection between the two bones of the forearm, ulna and radius, and the bones making up the hand. I thought our father was bad. At least he leaves us intact, even if his words are just as biting."
Mycroft lifted an eyebrow questioningly; worried his brother was in some kind of shock.
"Mr. Holmes." Doctor Bales smiled thinly.
"Poor John due to his station in life he is forced to receive less than adequate medical care."
Doctor Bales ignored the younger boys comment. "Would you like to see him? The bones been set and he's still mildly sedated. But he's asking if someone's come to collect his little friend here."
Sherlock was pushing past the Doctor without further words, Mycroft listened to what the Doctor was saying, she explained that the police had been called but most likely nothing would be done. After he felt that he had all the data possible Mycroft went to follow his brother excusing himself to the young Doctor.
"John, really there was no need to have Mycroft called in."
"It's late Sherlock you should be home. Not wondering the snow covered roads in the dark." John's voice was hoarse and eyes glassy but he still managed to chastise the dark haired boy who then started to fidget with his coats shiny black buttons. Mycroft was to busy taking inventory of the damage.
"It only looks worse than it is." John answered Mycroft's unspoken question. "I cant even feel a thing." John shrugged, his eyes growing heavy, a small plaster had been placed over a gash just near the hairline. "Stitches but only three of four."
"Five John, I saw her writing on the chart, although it's nearly impossible to read. But it said five, two fractured ribs, and lace-lazer-lacturations?" he scrunched his face.
"Lacerations." Mycroft corrected his brother and both boys jumped as if they'd forgotten he was even there.
"Lacerations, a split lip, and I do think your eye is going to turn an interesting aubergine, or eggplant for the layman."
"Sherlock please let Rodney know we will be out shortly." Sherlock looked ready to protest but John threw him a warning look.
"Fine. But don't badger him Mycroft."
"Go." John instructed and the young boy did just that.
"John where is your aunt."
"She went back to the city when my father finished rehab."
"How long ago?"
"He's been sober almost three months-I don't know what set him off, maybe it was the nearing of Christmas. Or the new year, but he started drinking just a few days ago. He'll be better-"
"John-"
"Do you think they'll take him away?" John's blue eyes blinked heavily.
"Perhaps." Mycroft replied coolly. "The Doctor said she has had someone in to speak to you. John, why wont you tell them what's happening?"
"Because he doesn't need jail. You wont understand."
"No, I don't."
"I want to go home." John sighed sadly. "I hate hospitals."
"Oh, I thought you were an aspiring doctor?"
"Well I'd rather help then be helped that's for sure."
"John I'll make the arrangements with your aunt for you to spend the rest of the winter holiday with us. By then she'll have uh, sorted out the house."
"You don't have to worry about me Mycroft, you have enough on your plate, I mean aspiring for world domination isn't easy when you have a genius younger brother as your officially declared arch nemesis. So don't worry about me." John's eyes were barely open. Mycroft didn't reply. "Mycroft." John called out before the older Holmes could leave. "Your umbrella, I hid it behind the book shelf in the upstairs sitting room, thought it would be safe from the uh planned experiment. Sorry about the tie."
Mycroft rolled his eyes, of course, he should have known.
He found Doctor Bales arguing with a rather stern looking older woman in long black skirt and gray cardigan.
"Goodnight Doctor Bales, if you could refrain from pulling me from my bed at such an hour in this bad weather for something that can wait till morning, I'd appreciate it."
"Good night Mrs. Harrington." The Doctor replied in a clipped tone watching the gray haired woman pull a heavy coat on and make her leave."
"Doctor Bales I do believe we need to talk." Mycroft smiled thinly.
A/N: Sorry for the rather long chapter. but thank you for all the wonderful reviews!