"When we started this, you told me you've got two brothers"

John closed his eyes, trying to remember that session. It happened the week next to his coming-in after Afghanistan. Certainly the Army took care of him after saving many lives in the front line. With a psychosomatic limp and a wounded shoulder, he needed a therapist. The pension for an ex army doctor wasn't the best, but he could live with that.

"I haven't told you that"

He tried to defend himself, but Ella wasn't a recent graduate. She had years of practice and she had been designated to be his therapist. Eventually she knew everything about him. There wasn't any way to hide anything from her.

"You have, John"

Ella is clever. She knows is she pushes him, he won't say a word. She prefers silence. Eventually John will talk after his long moments of silence. But this time, the silence is short, not long. And his gaze fall over his hands. And a vague moment of the past comes to his mind. His hands. Mycroft's hands.

Elizabeth introduced him to Mycroft one morning when he was back from boarding school. It was just for a weekend. He was scared. Scared to meet that tall teenager with a chubby weist and a funny nose. His face was serious but when they shaked their hands, he smiled at him warily.

"Mycroft. He was older than us"

He was the exact copy of Richard. His blonde hair, his pale skin and even his green eyes. Mycroft was all the opposite of Sherlock.

His therapist wants to know more about him but she's not going to push him. Not if is not necesary. But her suspects are being confirmed. Nothing happened with the older brother.

What affected John was the other brother. Something had happened with the other mysterious brother. The war affected him physically, but something before wounded him mentally forever.

She was almost going to push him, they were getting into the end of the weekly session and she needed him to talk about them when John spoke.

"He'd got me the papers I needed to get into the Army. My father- Richard was once the PM and of course, after graduating in Politics from Cambridge and with the best grades, Mycroft occupied a minor position in the British Government. Well... he loved to say his position was just a desk job in a tiny office in the Parliament, but we all knew he was the right hand or why not, the hand of the current PM"

Ella remained silence. John's voice was still firm when he spoke about them, but she noted that when he was getting there, to the other brother, his voice had reduced until nothing. His glass of water on the table next to him was empty and she wondered if she should get him some more when he spoke again.

"Sherlock was... we were close. Very close. I always felt like we were real brothers, but we were different. He told me so"

Ella didn't want to push him, but the progress John was making was good. She was almost reaching the point. Maybe it's time to push things.

"What happened with Sherlock?"

John's gaze was now on the window. It was like if he could felt the wind hitting the glasses. The sky was grey, as many London mornings. The noise under them was increasing by any minute that passed. John knew his time was finishing, but he also knew Ella wasn't going to end the session until he talked about him.

"He told me the truth"

She blinked once. Twice.

"What truth, John?"

He bit his lower lip. And his left hand started shaking again. She could see that.

"That I wasn't John Holmes. That I wasn't nothing to him. That I was just a replacement"

THANKS FORTHE FEEDBACK AND READING AND PLEASE, TELL ME WHAT DO YOU THINK!