InsaneJournal

Tweak says, "TERRA! USE THE X-BLADE!"

Sherlock Holmes (reasonbackward) wrote in colligo_threads,
@ 2011-04-16 12:31:00

Entry tags:

!@event, !closed, mycroft holmes, sherlock holmes

WHO: Sherlock Holmes & Mycroft Holmes
WHAT: Sherlock has been struck once again by the honesty bug, and this time, Mycroft is here to witness it.
WHEN: After this
WHERE: Sherlock's Apartment
RATING: PG
STATUS: In Progress

Sherlock should have expected that. Whenever Mycroft had had the slightest whiff of anything being off about Sherlock, he had always seemed to show up with absolutely no warning. When they were children, when he was in college, the first flat he'd moved into, the bombing, his brother had always seemed to have a bead on the exact moments when his presence would be the least (and most) appreciated. This time, however, Sherlock had provided that notice himself, and even as much as he didn't want to see his brother since he knew exactly what that would lead to with him in this state, Sherlock knew that he could hardly avoid the other man until this passed again. It had taken weeks last time, and Mycroft was not the sort of person to let him go that long without being pestered. It was best to just get this over and done with. Not to mention, Sherlock sort of wanted to see his brother as well if only to divulge the sheer amount of things that he had never told him.

It would be a relief to finally get them off his chest.

Even if Mycroft would never let him hear the end of it.

As Sherlock pulled the door open, his housecoat swishing about his lean frame at the action, he blinked at the buzzing of his phone and looked down, pulling up the last text that Mycroft had sent, barely resisting the urge to roll his eyes at the man standing in front of him. "There is no principle in refusing to open your own doors," He said, looking his brother over and fiercely biting his tongue against all of the things that he wanted to say, that he was being forced to want to say. It seemed that the second that he opened his mouth, something would come pouring out, so instead of inviting his brother inside verbally, he just stepped aside and gestured.

Better to let Mycroft start this out than immediately info dump.

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hisarchenemy
2011-04-28 03:40 pm UTC (link)

Mycroft wasn't certain which was more surreal: the fact that he was sitting, having a very candid discussion with his brother without the typical barriers between them or the fact that they were having such a conversation while a small kitten was making itself quite at home in Sherlock's hair... and his brother didn't seem to mind in the least. Shaking his head ever so slightly at his brother's huffing and pouting, Mycroft's tone was bemused when he replied.

"People believe their being clever because, by their standards, they are," he explained patiently but didn't dwell any further on the subject. He had tried for most of his brother's life to get the man to see people the way he did. If it hadn't happened before now, he sincerely doubted it ever would. And even if it did, it certainly wouldn't happen due to his repeating the same thing again and again.

Eyebrows raising a bit when Sherlock mentioned John had killed Moriarty, Mycroft studied his brother for a long moment before responding. When he did speak, his voice was carefully casual. This was clearly a subject that mattered to his brother so he was loathe to simply dismiss it but he was also not at all intending on actually giving James Moriarty any sort of chance.

"The fact that it is a requirement the man must be murdered before learning to behave himself says quite enough on the matter," he stated firstly. He had to admit, though, he was feeling a very strong urge to shake John Watson's hand for having done so, even if the entire situation seemed overly dramatic. "He isn't going to behave himself forever."

And therein lied the problem, in Mycroft's mind. Eventually, Moriarty was going to do something, yet again, to put Sherlock in danger. When he did, Mycroft did not want to be blind-sided by some false sense of security. Which made letting his guard down all but impossible.

"However," he added after a second, with a soft sigh born from his own (albeit ignored and denied) propensity to lean toward the dramatic just as much as his own brother, "When I take office, I've no intention upon wasting the city's precious resources harassing him unnecessarily." He stared at Sherlock for a moment longer, gaze speculative. "And I do wish I could fathom why you care in the slightest."

The last bit was said softly, almost wistfully. It wasn't like Mycroft to reveal his emotions quite so openly but, just this once, it was bothering him enough that he was willing to do so.

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reasonbackward
2011-05-01 03:23 am UTC (link)

"When. When you take office. You do have opponents, Mycroft. At least one of which is competent. It isn't as much of a certainty as you're making it out to be," Sherlock said, screwing his eyes up at his brother and wrinkling his nose. Of course Mycroft would have to wonder why he could care. The only blessing in the way that he'd phrased it was that it wasn't a question so Sherlock didn't have to answer immediately. Even as he could feel the urge to spill his guts all over the carpet rising up in him, Sherlock suppressed the urge to try and formulate his thoughts into something much more streamlined than a rush of truth with no thought put into it.

"Because he's me," Sherlock said, furrowing his brow at his brother. "And he's you as well. He's what we were, what we are, without the support proper and understanding sympathy with which we were both privileged. He might have been stripped bare of the morals that dictate our actions, but only because there was no other logical course available. Me verses him is fair, Mycroft. We're both on the same playing field with the same resources and the same thought processes. If you add yourself to the game, it tips the scales. I don't want to defeat him. Not here. I'll keep him in check if need be, but until then... Until then, he's as good as John. And you know what I'd do to you if you did anything to him."

Letting the last statement hang in the air, Sherlock allowed himself to close his eyes, taking a few breaths and try and push away any other urges that wanted to crop up, but they came anyway. Just like last time, he couldn't stop them even if he wanted to. And oh, how he wanted to. "Do you think I'm wasting my life?"

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