Chapter 2

It was cold out, the wind biting at his neck as he stood, waiting for him to show up. Mycroft tucked his hands deep into his coat in an attempt to stay warm, flipping up the collar of the coat he had on like Sherlock would have done...

Like Sherlock would have done...

He desperately wanted to save his brother. He cared about his brother way too much, and that was the danger. He cared too much.

He had managed to convince the Yard to allow Sherlock to go into exile, instead of rotting away in a jail cell somewhere. However, he found that he wasn't happy with that, and he was not the only one. John also didn't want to see Sherlock fly out of his life, and neither did a number of people if they actually cared to admit it. Mycroft hadn't realized that he had grown soft toward his brother, taking his older brother role quite seriously. He was going to make sure Sherlock stayed in London, even if he ended up digging himself a hole.

His head snapped up at the sound of rocks crunching under tires. He turned toward the sound, his eyes frantically searching the darkening alley. A tan car pulled into view, the windows tinted, hiding the passengers inside. He could feel his heart beat picking up speed as he stood there, waiting for the car to pull to a stop.

The car pulled to a stop, and sat there, staring at him for what felt like an eternity. He started to rock back and forth on the balls of his heels, impatient to get this deal underway. He wondered what the other party would ask for in exchange, but he couldn't dwell on that fact too long. Whatever the price, he was determined to pay it. He had already made up his mind.

Finally, the back door of the car opened, and out stepped a man, his head down. He approached Mycroft, and stood in front of him, his head still trained on the ground.

This was it.

"I have a proposition for you...to make it so you don't have to hide anymore," said Mycroft, deciding to be the ice breaker.

The man chuckled, kicking at the ground, causing dirt to fly upward in a small puff.

"I'll always have to hide...you're merely offering me the chance to surface again for a while."

"I thought that you would prefer that than the alternative," said Mycroft. "Wasting away in boredom doesn't sound pleasurable."

He smirked, finally bringing his eyes up to meet Mycroft's gaze. Mycroft's heart momentarily lept up into his throat. He really was still alive.

"A genius is always bored," replied James Moriarty. "We just find ways to entertain ourselves for a bit."

"I'm offering you a chance to be free once more," said Mycroft. "I'm being generous."

He scoffed, rolling his eyes.

"You, apparently, need to read a dictionary once in a while, Mycroft. See generous is when you do something for someone else and don't expect anything in return, and I know very well that you want something from me."

"You're right. I do want something from you, but I'm sure it's something that you won't mind doing in the long run."

"Really? Pray tell, why do you think that?"

"It'll keep Sherlock around."

A wide smile spread across James's face.

"Poor, little Sherlock get himself into some trouble? Does he need his big brother to help him out?" asked James in a mocking, condescending tone.

"I don't have to go into the details..."

"Yes, you do. I need to weigh my options."

"Look," said Mycroft, growing angry at James. "You can either help me out, or you can crawl back into the hole you came from, and I will hunt you do and put you in jail."

"Oh, testy are we?" chuckled James, obviously enjoying Mycroft's angered state.

"I don't have time to dawdle here all day while you goad me. Make a decision."

James turned his head off to the side, looking up at the clouds.

"What are you wanting me to do exactly?"

"Reappear in London with some kind of grand entrance, so that Sherlock has a purpose for staying."

James nodded as he listened, his face passive.

"What do I get in exchange?"

"Your freedom."

"Yes, but it's temporary. You know that as soon as Sherlock is set after me, he's like a dog with a bone. He won't quit until I'm behind bars."

"I'll grant you immunity."

He rolled his eyes.

"What will be your excuse? Obviously you want to keep this exchange in the dark," said James, gesturing around at their surroundings. "That'll never work."

"What are you wanting in exchange?"

James bit his lip in thought for a second, casting his gaze back up as the stars started to twinkle into view. Suddenly, a wicked smile spread across his face.

"What are you wanting in exchange?" repeated Mycroft, starting to dread the answer.

James turned his gaze on Mycroft once more, the grin still on his face.

"I'll tell you exactly what I expect in exchange..."

"Mycroft!"

He snapped out of his thoughts, turning to focus on Sherlock who sat across from him in the car. Sherlock quirked a brow at him.

"I've been talking to you for the past five minutes. Have you adopted your own mind palace?"

Mycroft chuckled, pasting a small smile on his face.

"Yes, sorry...just preoccupied."

Sherlock didn't buy that. He could tell, but for once, he didn't press him.

"Yes, well, what am I suppose to do now? What are you going to tell all of London about my reappearance?"

"Don't worry about that. Your only worry is on Moriarty. I will iron out all the other wrinkles that appear."

"I know you had a hand in this," said Sherlock, turning his gaze to look out the window for a moment.

"How could I have had a hand in this?"

He was starting to panic. Was Sherlock really starting to see through this already?

He shrugged.

"It just seems too...planned, is all."

Sherlock turned his gaze back on Mycroft.

"Moriarty does things on his own whim. I merely was in the right place at the right time."

"Does John know about Moriarty's return?" asked Sherlock, changing the subject.

Mycroft was grateful for the change in subject, but he knew Sherlock. Just because he changed the subject now did not mean that he intended to drop it completely.

"No, he doesn't."

Mycroft turned in his seat to look out the back window at John's car, which was following closely behind them. "It's your job to brief him."

"It's going to come as quite a shock to him, I'm sure. He thought that we were both dead for two years."

"Yes," said Mycroft, turning back around to face Sherlock, "But I'm sure he's glad you're not dead now."

"I know he is," said Sherlock. "We have made amends before all of this happened."

"Good. You two will need each other. You're a stronger unit together."

Sherlock nodded, agreeing with what Mycroft said. He needed John on his cases. Even if he didn't want to admit it, he couldn't solve those cases without him.

"Am I allowed to stay at the flat?" asked Sherlock, once again effortlessly changing the subject.

"Yes,...though for right now, I'd prefer if you'd stay with me at my place."

Sherlock raised an eyebrow at Mycroft.

"Why's that?"

"It'll just be easier to keep an eye on you if you're staying with me. Once London realizes that you aren't exiled, they'll come after you. You know the tabloids and all."

Sherlock nodded, remembering Kitty Riley and how she had believed in James Moriarty's cover, Richard Brooks.

"Alright. Thank you."

"Of course," said Mycroft, once again pasting a small smile on his face.

What Mycroft didn't want to admit was that he was worried about Sherlock, especially after the deal he had made with Moriarty. He was worried about Sherlock's safety, and this way, he could make sure he stayed safe.

With the smile still on his face, he looked right at Sherlock, locking his gaze on him.

"I always have my brother's best interest at heart."

AN: Thank you for all of the reviews, favorites, and follows! I really appreciate it! Please keep it up! I'll look forward to all your reviews. I hope you enjoyed this installment. :)