Fifty Shades of Holmes Brothers

by somanyhands

A series of 50 short fics about the changing relationship and dynamics between the Holmes brothers, from Sherlock's birth through to adulthood. No slash but there will be some brother love and tenderness as well as an amount of hatred and bitterness too. Contains mention of drug use. Not one fic per year, just 50 short glimpses, in chronological order. NOW COMPLETE

29. Relapse

"Victor sent me."

Sherlock stood in the doorway of the dingy backstreet terrace, his coat collar turned up against the cold and the wind, offering him some degree of disguise and anonymity.

"In." The guy on the door uttered the single word with a look of contempt. "He's back there." he tipped his head towards a grey doorway before returning back to his position by the front door, leaving Sherlock to enter the room alone.

Suddenly, he felt anxious and very conspicuous. He hadn't done this... buying his own coke, since... before. Before university. Before Mycroft... he pushed away thoughts of his brother and knocked confidently on the door as he turned the handle.

"Victor sent me." he repeated to the two men sitting in the corner whose eyes turned to him as he entered. They were sitting either side of an old wooden table, a deck of card between them.

The taller of the men nodded. Victor was a good customer. He had been selling to Victor for several years now. Victor's family came from money, and they were the best clients to have: rich ones. He knew Victor was currently away though, and he'd been warned to expect a few of the 'more affluent' clients to approach him directly. Sherlock was the first who had actually come around though, and he recognised him instantly from Victor's description.

"Money?" he frowned, eyeing Sherlock's demeanour as the young Holmes scanned the room, taking in details. It made him uncomfortable to be under such scrutiny.

"Money up front or no gear."

Sherlock nodded and removed a roll of twenties from his coat pocket. The second man stood up and took the money, passing it back to the first before heading through to another room and retrieving a packet. He thrust the packet into Sherlock's hand, his eyes darting between Sherlock and the man who was clearly his boss.

"This is the good stuff. Victor said you liked the good stuff. Plenty more where that came from." he continued, taking his seat at the table again and picking up his poker hand, "if you got the money for it, that is."

It wasn't a question, but Sherlock felt compelled to answer anyway.

"Of course." he scoffed, running his fingers over the packet of white power before stuffing it into his inside coat pocket and turning to leave.

"Of course."