Author's Note: this takes place several months after the last check up, Mycroft and John have been meeting on whatever available Wednesday evening though Sherlock is no longer seeing John as a patient.
Mycroft's POV
He dislikes the fact his brother is currently in Florida with Moriarty. At the same time, he understands why it was suggested his brother go. It gives his brother a chance to come into himself and be out from his watchful eyes. At the same time he is worried, because it was him not watching his brother that led to the situation they have just got out of.
Of course, if he is being honest, it wasn't just the fact he wasn't watching out for Sherlock. It was also because he cut his brother off. Stopped talking to him, stopped communicating with him, bullied his brother, and allowed others to mistreat him as well.
Today is Wednesday, like every other Wednesday he's been in London for the last several months, he's heading to the clinic to speak with Doctor Watson. He's been slowly trying to change some of the bad habits he has developed over the last few years.
It annoys him that he just can't stop, despite the fact he's a genius. Thankfully, Doctor Watson has been willing to work with him, without taking actual notes so he doesn't have to worry about someone else getting into them. The fact he's in therapy could cause issues for his career, yet the doctor has considered it more of a continuation of Sherlock's therapy. He's continuing it to update the doctor on his brother's progress.
The car comes to a stop as his driver stops in front of the clinic.
"I will be done in one hour." He informs his driver before sliding out.
Heading to the door, he is met by the doctor who let's him in before locking it back up.
—Good morning Mycroft,— John greets him.
—Good morning John, — he replies after a moment hesitation.
—How are you faring with Sherlock out of the house?— the blonde inquires curiously.
He settles into his seat, thinking about the question for a long minute before answering it. —I do not like the fact he is there with Moriarty.— he pauses for a long moment, —I have to admit I understand why however. —
—Did you and Jim ever figure out what you are?— the doctor asks curiously.
—Not friends.— He answers shortly.
—That I've gathered,— John remarks with a snicker, —You two are not well suited personality wise.—
—That is a fact. — He agrees with a quick nod.
Several minutes pass in silence. John works on paperwork, probably his, while he considers exactly what sort of relationship he has with
—How have you been otherwise?—
He thinks about that question, not giving the automatic answer he'd give most people. How has he been lately? He's been under stress but that's nothing new. There have been a lot more idiots in politics than he appreciates, also not new. He's concerned about his brother and that there will be a relapse, a situation he has discussed with John on several occasions. It's hard not to worry about it when his brother could so easily fall back into that life. Logically he understands the chances are fairly slim, his brother has the support network he's always needed and previously didn't have.
He also has to acknowledge that him and their parents did a piss-poor job with Sherlock. Emotionally, and that's something he hates to admit to having, he regrets the fact his actions were a large part of what drove his brother to such extremes. He grudgingly has to admit that his brother has depression and as it was left untreated it just compounded the issue. Of course, that goes with everything he has felt guilty about concerning himself and his parents. It's all part of the same issue.
— Decent, — he eventually states, —It could be better, but it has not been worse.—
Smiling, the blonde responds, —That's a good thing then. —
The light in the corner of the desk flashes and the doctor presses the off button, letting the person know they can come inside the office. A moment later, one of the nurses slips in with a tray that has tea and snacks.
He bites back a chuckle when the nurse chastises John for skipping meals, says a polite hello to him, and leaves.
—Your staff likes you and cares about what happens to you.— He comments with a smile of his own.
—She's rather motherhen-like, does it to pretty much everybody on the staff. I just get it the most because I'm the only single one with no other family to speak of.— the doctor wryly responds, eyes dancing with mirth.
He nods, considering that statement. He's well aware of the doctor's history, from the abusive household, to the distant relatives that provided the start up for this practice. —You do have friends however, so you are not totally alone.—
Grinning, John nods in agreement, —That I do. I count you among them, although I am fairly certain you don't count me as such.—
Startled, he freezes, studying the blonde for a long moment before slowly nodding and stating, —I believe you are right, we are friends. —
Friends, not a word he ever expected to have in regards to himself. It is something he will have to consider in detail later, when he has some 'free time' or maybe when he has some down time between dealing with other situations and fires that need put out.
—Although,— he's sure his expression is mischievous, —Your choice in friends is sometimes,— he pauses thoughtfully, —questionable.—
John bursts out laughing, a rough sound that is still rather pleasant to hear, and he wonders when the last time he told a joke that was considered honestly funny, without getting the false sort of response.
—Of course you find them questionable, they love to buck authority and that's your favorite thing, being the one giving orders.— The blonde replies after he gets himself back under control.
He just grins, not responding to that statement of fact.
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