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Violet Holmes had a very good memory as well as an open mind, and that was a very good thing. William Sherlock Scott Holmes was born in a little cottage in the middle of a blizzard January 6th 1977. He was delivered by an ex-army doctor, one Dr. John Hamish Watson who apparently didn’t exist or at least not yet.
The ambulance came to rescue Violet and her baby about an hour after John had left. Violet asked after him. Had they seen a man walking along the lane coming back this way? They said no. She couldn’t imagine where he went. Maybe he went back to his snowbound car and it had started. He didn’t seem like the type of person who would just leave without a word but he HAD been very eager to get back to propose to his flat mate. She thought he was like a love struck teen about his boyfriend. Although she still wondered about the legality of two men marrying each other. It was true that being homosexual was no longer a crime, but getting married, she thought she would have heard of it. She wholly thought it should be legal, as everyone deserved to be able to marry the person they loved.
At the hospital she called Sieger, her husband, to let him know she and the baby were doing well. He had been going crazy with worry. Seven year old Mycroft had been spouting a monologue of how irresponsible both his parents had been in the last 24 hours. How could Father in good conscience let mummy go out in a blizzard 9 months pregnant? It did not matter if Father didn’t know she had left until after she had gone. It did not matter if she was going to a regular check up. It did not matter that it was not snowing when she left.
She had not checked the weather forecast. She just got into her car and drove out into the bright beautiful sunny afternoon. When twenty minutes, a light snow started Mycroft had called Father at his office and told him he must go out to find Mummy and his baby brother or sister right away. Father put it off thinking it was Mycroft was being Mycroft. Then the doctor, Violet was to have seen, called and said she hadn’t made it to her appointment.
It was about an hour until dusk. Sieger didn’t pray often but he decided it wouldn’t hurt to edge his bets. Violet would scoff at him, but he would do it anyway. He said a quick prayer to any deity listening to please take care of his wife and unborn child. A short while later the radio Cook had on in the kitchen had a breaking news report. She interrupted Mr. Holmes pacing in his study. There had been a massive pile-up on the motorway. There were no deaths, a couple of minor broken bones and some bumps and bruises more importantly no women in labor. They had evacuated the stranded motorists to a school just off the motorway where first aid was available. They would wait for the storm to pass. Mycroft the king of doom and gloom wasn’t satisfied. He insisted Sieger send someone out to find Mummy. Mycroft seemed more upset than his father had ever seen him. Mycroft was distraught. Sieger finally caved to the lad and sent his assistant out to check out the school. The assistant checked the list of people taking shelter in the school and Violet Holmes was not there. As soon as he got to a phone he called Mr. Holmes and gave him the news. It was after midnight and his wife and unborn child were missing in a snowstorm. Sieger was beside himself. He gave orders to Nanny to take Mycroft upstairs and keep him there. The snow had stopped, and a full moon was up and casting light eerily on the new fallen snow. He called any hospitals or clinics within 50 kilometers of their home. It was a very long night. About 7:30 am he got a call. An ambulance had been dispatched to a cottage on a back road to pick up a woman who had given birth the night before, during the blizzard. He was sure it was her. He called upstairs to Nanny and he was almost knocked over by Mycroft as he ran down the stairs. The boy was ready to go in seconds. He needed to talk to Mycroft before he got into the car.
“We think we have found your mother.” He explained. “A woman delivered a full term baby in a cottage last night. She is on her way to the hospital. Mycroft it may not be her.” He looked up at his father and said firmly “I know it’s her.” They drove as fast as was safe to the hospital. They both let out a sigh of relief when told the patient’s names. Two patients, Violet Holmes and William Sherlock Scott Holmes. Sieger picked Mycroft up and spun him around. “It’s a boy!” they exclaimed in unison.
Mycroft suddenly aware how undignified he must look, and asked to be put down. Sieger asked the woman at the desk which way the maternity ward was. In minutes he was pushing open the door to a private room and there was his Violet! He stepped up to the bed, and pulled his wife up into his arms to give her a passionate kiss. He stood there for 2 or 3 minutes. Then he remembered the baby. He looked over to the right side of the bed to see Mycroft leaning into the small bassinet. He seemed to be carrying on a conversation with the newborn. He turned to his parents with the biggest smile they had ever seen on his young face. “I’m a big brother!” His parents beamed back a smile. ”He likes me and he wants to be called Sherlock!” His parents smiling, looked at him. “We’ll see.”
A few minutes later Dr Davies, Violet’s doctor comes into the room. “Well Violet, I see you decided to have your little one without my help” says Dr Davies with a smile.
“Yes, I guess he has a mind of his own, sort of like Mycroft.” The doctor nods knowing what a challenge her older son has been to Mr. and Mrs. Holmes. “Actually I was very lucky to go off the road just as a kind physician was passing by.” “He took very good care of me.”
Dr Davies looked at her with concern. “Yes about that…” he paused. “I’m not sure how to say this but…we are not sure who it was that delivered little William.” Mycroft broke in “Sherlock! He wants be called Sherlock!” He looked very upset. “Yes, yes, OK Mycroft, little Sherlock.”Violet said.”Sieger would you like to take Mycroft down to the cafeteria see if you can find him a piece cake.”
Mycroft looked at the tiny bundle in the cot with his bottom lip protruding. “Can’t I stay here and have cake too?” he whinged.
Sieger put his hand on the child’s shoulder and steered him towards the door while reassuring the lad that they would soon be taking Sherlock and Mummy home.
The doctor proceeded to check Violet and little Sherlock out to assure himself that all was well with his patients. When the check up was complete Dr Davies gave a concerned look to Violet. “I’m sorry Violet but who ever delivered your baby, as far as I can tell, is not a doctor in the UK. But you are no worse for wear.”
“What do you mean not a doctor?” Violet looks confused. “He wrote his license number down.” “Yes, but it’s not a valid license number” doctor Davies explains. “Physician’s license numbers are issued sequentially. At present physician numbers are 7 digits. Current licenses start with 2. The number that was written down starts with a 6, and it has 7 digits. Than license number won’t be issued for years. It’s pretty legible and unless this doctor forgot his number, it’s fake.”
“How about a John Hamish Watson that is a physician?” Violet is grasping at straws. “There aren’t any, sorry.”Dr Davies sooths. “But don’t worry its all OK.”
Violet suddenly remembers the bags from the cottage. “When I arrived in the ambulance, I had 3 bags with me. There were 2 plastic bags and a duffle. One of the plastic ones had towels and linens in it. I’d like to take it home and get it washed to return to the owners of the cottage.”
“Of course, I’ll have them brought up so you can take them when you are discharged. And that shouldn’t be too long now.” “Just don’t worry yourself about the whole thing just enjoy your new baby.” And with that Dr Davies turned and left Violet still confused about the doctor who had delivered her new baby.
The next couple days went by in a whirl. Getting Sherlock (the name seemed to stick) settled into the nursery and recouping her energy occupied Violet’s thoughts. When Sherlock was a few days old it crossed Violet’s mind to check on the bag of laundry.
Joan, the housekeeper, brought Violet the linens and towels in a grocery bag. The folded jumper was on top. She took out the jumper. It was the one that John Watson had been wearing when he delivered Sherlock. He mentioned that it was his favorite jumper. It was now clean and fluffy. Violet looked at it closely. It was obviously an expensive jumper. She wasn’t familiar with the brand Dolce & Gabbana, but, it looked very high end. Then she thought about the duffle. “Joan, where is the duffle bag from the hospital?”
“Here it is. It was in the coat closet.” Joan said bringing it to her. “What’s in it?” Violet unzipping the bag said “I’m not sure, let’s see.”
The contents of the bag were very surprising. After 15 minutes Violet and Joan were both gobsmacked and Sieger was on his way home from his office.
Violet, Joan and Sieger were gathered around the table in the dining room looking at the contents of the duffle. There was 1 fairly basic button-up long sleeve shirt. A grooming bag with Lynx deodorant, a Sonicare electric toothbrush, a funny looking shaving razor and Crest toothpaste. Several of the brands didn’t look familiar to any of them. Also among the contents of the bag were 2 boxer briefs, 2 vests, and 2 pairs black socks. The most surprising item in the bag is a glossy brochure. It outlines a medical conference on Strokes in Birmingham at the Hilton Metropole National Exhibition Centre. The most surprising part was the dates of the conference. Conference Dates: January 03-05, 2015. Violet says thinking out loud “This conference will take place in just under 38 years.” No one had seen Mycroft sneak in. The adults startle when he pipes up “I’ll be ancient then, I’ll be 45.” Joan jumps up and escorts Mycroft into the kitchen saying “Come along Mycroft, I think cook has some fresh baked cake.”
Violet says “This is going to sound crazy, and I don’t know why, or how, but I think that a doctor from the future delivered Sherlock. I think I should tell you everything John told me.”
Violet told Sieger about John and his flat mate Sherlock. She told him about John, almost glowing, as he spoke of the brilliant, infuriating, wonderful man he wanted to marry. That he was proposing on the man’s 38th birthday. If the brochure was from the conference he was coming home from, it would be our Sherlock’s birthday. His 38th birthday! “This can’t be coincidence. John told me about coincidences. He said ‘The universe is rarely so lazy.’ And he also told me ‘Once you rule out the impossible, whatever remains—however improbable—must be true.
As she spoke Sieger took notes recording everything Violet could remember. Also as she spoke she sketched.
Violet was a world class mathematician before retiring to raise her boys. She was also a fairly competent artist. By the time she had finished talking about John she had several sketches that were a fair representation of the man who delivered her child several days ago. They sat in silence for several minutes just letting it soak in. Joan stuck her head in to see if they were ready to have tea. Mycroft took the opportunity to push past the housekeeper. He scrambled up onto his father’s lap. Seeing the drawings, he asked “Is that John? Mummy, tell me, is John from the future? Did a doctor from the future deliver Sherlock?”
Violet and her husband seemed conflicted. Sieger loved to see Mycroft acting more like a child. What he didn’t like was all this talk of doctors from the future. It all sounded a little crazy, even if it was true. “Mycroft, we don’t know for sure where John came from, and this is very important now, it is a secret. People keep secrets for all kinds of reasons. Sometimes we keep secrets for our jobs. Sometimes we keep secrets to protect ourselves. And sometimes people need to keep secrets to protect others. Someday this will be very, very important. We do not know who or where John is but I think he cared about your baby brother very much.” “Even though he’d just been born?” Mycroft asked very seriously. “Yes, even though he’d just been born” Father answered.
Mycroft nodded his head solemnly. He understood this was serious adult stuff. He would never betray his baby brother and he would never tell John’s secret as long as he lived, so help me god. He thought.
Then Mummy smiled at him and said ”if you ever need to talk or have questions about it just come to myself or Father and we can talk to you about it.” “OK Mycroft, I think it is tea time, let’s go wash up.”
While Violet and Mycroft went to wash up for tea, Sieger gathered up the items on the table including the notes he had taken and the drawings Violet had made. He put them all in the small duffle. He then took it into his library and locked it a drawer. They would discuss it further but now it was time for tea.
That evening after Mycroft and Sherlock were snug in bed, and the house was quiet Violet and Sieger talked into the night. Violet, as insane as it sounded, was sure that John Watson was baby Sherlock’s future flat mate and partner. It really seemed like something out of science fiction. That kid’s show Doctor Who was about traveling in time. That was a kid’s show, with low production values and it couldn’t even hold Mycroft’s attention. There was that American Show, Twilight Zone, this was more like that. No, this is real life! Sieger was usually the one given to flights of fancy. Violet decided that she would research any parts of this mystery as time went on after all they had 38 years to wait to find out for sure.
At 22 Mycroft had started with a government agency that really has no name (but if he told anyone he’d have to kill them, and that just gets messy, especially with family). Both he and Sherlock were home for a short holiday at Christmas time. He enjoyed seeing Sherlock when they were both home on holidays. Their relationship had been a little strained since Sherlock had started at boarding school a year ago. He seemed to be even more unsociable than he had been before. He was moody and seemed to be hibernating all day. At night he left his room and stalked around the manor. Silently he would enter a room, startle the occupants before stalking out mumbling under his breath. He’s did it twice to cook causing her to drop tomorrow’s dessert on the floor.
On boxing-day Mycroft asks his parents to meet him in the library after breakfast. He wants to speak to them behind closed doors. He looks at his parents solemnly. I wanted to talk to you about John Watson. It’s been a year since he’s spoken to his parents about him. Mycroft looks down at his hands. “I think I’ve located him.” They both look at him inquisitively. Mycroft continues, “I had been thinking about what we know or knew about John Hamish Watson.” You said you thought he was 38 to 45 years old and from the UK. I ran a search for any John Hamish Watson born between 1970 and 1977. I found 4. One is from Cardiff, and is of Indian descent. One is from Liverpool and had low grades in school and lives in council flats with a girlfriend who is pregnant. The 3rd is from London, has gotten mediocre grades in school. But he is 16 and measures 5’11” and still growing.
I believe the 4th John Watson is the one we are looking for. He lives in the London area. He is 18 and has gotten top grades in his A-levels. He has expressed a desire to become a physician. His home situation however may preclude this desire. As a secondary choice of career he may join the military. He is the second child of widow who is currently being treated for cirrhosis of the liver. His father passed away 4 years ago also from cirrhosis. His elder sister by 2 years has been in trouble with multiple juvenile delinquency offences and one unfit through drink while operating a motor vehicle. “And this is him” Mycroft says while placing a photo on the table. It’s not the best photo, but Violet gasps. “Unbelievable! That’s him! I can tell. And he’s only 18!” They all just sit there for several minutes letting it sink in.
Then Mycroft breathed out. “I wanted to discuss John’s academic career. I propose subsidizing the future Doctor Watson’s medical training.” “I’ve looked into the figures and it would be easy to do. We would need to set up a scholarship that only John Watson would qualify for.”
They sit in stunned silence except Mycroft who just looks smug. After a minute he clears his throat. “That is if you’re sure it is him.”
“Mummy I have information on his whereabouts this afternoon and if you and Father would like to observe him we could take my car.”
Mummy asks “What about Sherlock?” “What about Sherlock, Mummy?”Mycroft responds.
14 years ago Violet had taken the sketch of Doctor John and put it into a 5x7 frame and kept it on her dresser in their bedroom. When Sherlock was 4 years old had asked who was in the drawing. Violet told him, the man in the drawing was Sherlock’s first doctor. “He was the very kind man who delivered you.” She went on to tell him the official story of his birth. It was an abbreviated version skipping over the possibility of a time traveling doctor. Sherlock looked puzzled and asked”Where is he now? Why did you draw him if we never see him now? Did he die? This doesn’t add up!” So Violet, Sieger and Mycroft ended up telling Sherlock the whole story. Sherlock responded, scoffing”I’m not 3 anymore! I’m 4 and I’m certainly not falling for that story!” Sherlock decided to make a small room in his rudimentary mind palace for “Doctor John”, to think this through at a future time.
Over the next 10 years Sherlock would occasionally bring the Doctor John Mystery up late at night with Mycroft or Mummy. He tried to catch them in a lie. He would argue the fact that it was impossible not improbable. These nighttime inquisitions grew further and further apart. It had been over a year since the topic had come up.
Mycroft went to call Sherlock into the library. Sherlock was not in bed as usual this time of day. He had been lurking around in the family rooms on the first floor. He slinks into the library and takes in his family all around him. He heaves a great sigh as though thoroughly put out. “Yeah, so what’s this about then?”
Violet starts first. Since Sherlock is 14 years old she decides to be totally honest with him. She tells him that he and Doctor John live together in 2015. John is going to propose marriage to him, after he travels back in time to deliver him in 1977. Sherlock sits with a blank face for several beats and then breaks out in hysterical laughter. He laughs harder than his mother has ever seen him laugh. He laughs until there are tears running down his face and then suddenly stops. He looks at his family and their shocked looks, and snarks “You are all barmy!”
“Just listen to us.” Father pleads. The contents of the duffle, that has been up in the locked drawer, for 14 years are on the desk. He picks up the ditty bag and looks through the toiletries. “What’s so special about this stuff?” “Well the deodorant was not available until 1984, nothing like this razor exists, and my sources tell me Sonicare brand toothbrushes won’t hit the market for at least a year.”
“I’m glad our governmental money goes for such important research.” Sherlock snarled with slightly less venom.
He then picks up the brochure for the medical conference in 2015. It had been laminated to preserve it. As he studies it, Mycroft says “many of the presenters listed are physicians, just starting their careers. Many were not even doctors 14 years ago. Many of the seminars listed are either in research stages or cutting edge treatments now, but 14 years ago…”
“Sherlock, honey, please, just keep an open mind.”Violet pleads with her younger son. Sherlock then picks up the parcel among the other things and asks “so what is this then?” Violet looked earnestly at her son and said “That was John’s favorite jumper. He wore it when he delivered you. It was soiled so I had it washed.”
Sherlock studies the oatmeal colored jumper. “You have got to be putting me on. This is appalling. Absolutely appalling. This jumper, although well made, is absolutely gauche. I would never be in a relationship with someone who would call this his favorite jumper. I wouldn’t even want to stand next to someone with such awful taste in fashion in case it was to rub off on me.”
“Well” Mycroft said as he stood, “We were going to take a drive by his football pitch in London this afternoon, he has a game.” He turns to glare at his sibling. Sherlock affected a lazy pose and said “well I am bored nearly to death, so I could ride along.” Violet saw a slight sparkle in his eye, but didn’t say anything.
It wasn’t a long drive from the Holmes manor to the suburb of London where John would be. Mummy and Father sat in the large back seat of the luxury car. The windows were tinted so the family had a good view, but no one could see in. Sherlock put a Queen CD into his old beat up Discman and put his ear phones in his ears and plopped into the front seat passenger side across from Mycroft.
They find the field the football match is in. The game was half way over. Mycroft, Violet and Sieger all look intently at the players running up and down the field. Mycroft said “I believe John’s team wears the royal blue jerseys.” Sherlock sat in the front seat, head bobbing to the music with his eyes closed. Violet spots John first. He is the shortest kid on the team. He looks very fit and athletic. Violet remembered John being fit but a little softer around his middle. Well that is the difference between 18 and a man in his 40’s. Everyone except Sherlock gets out of the car. They stand by the car and watch the game whispering back and forth. After almost a half hour Sherlock gets out of the car and stands next to his Mum. “So which one is he then?” Sherlock mutters. Violet points John out. “How pedestrian. He’s dull and ordinary. Really Mother.” Then with large sigh “I’m bored!” With that he got back in the car, he’d never even taken his headphones out of his ears.
The game was drawing to a close. John scored the winning goal and he got congratulatory slaps on the back. Violet could hear some of the boys talking about going out now to celebrate their victory. They decided on the hamburger place a block from the field. Mr. and Mrs. Holmes return to the back seat of the car. Violet says with a smile “Well that was fun, anyone want to get a hamburger now?” Mycroft looked as though he smelled something bad, but he replied”If we must Mummy.” “I’d just like to hear his voice. I won’t say anything to him or his friends.” Mycroft agrees that this would be acceptable.
When they get to the hamburger restaurant, Violet, Sieger and Mycroft enter the burger place. Then Sherlock bolts from the car and slips in behind them before the door closes. Mycroft turned on his heel and glares down at his little brother. “Best behavior!” he grinds out. “Of course” Sherlock says in a bored voice. They sit at a table a couple over from the footballer’s celebration. They needn’t have sat so near; the rambunctious lads were in high spirits and clearly heard throughout the place. They discuss an upcoming game with a lower ranked team, and the girl friend one of the boy’s he had just broken up with. Several of the boys had just seen the Addams Family movie and were discussed it.
John got up and went into the men’s room. Sherlock had been sitting with his back to the group of football players. 10 seconds after John reached the loo; Sherlock was off like a rocket and into the loo before his family knew what he was doing.
Sherlock was just shy of his 15th birthday and had recently gotten into the goth thing. He was about 5’9” and skinny as a fence post. Just home from boarding school, his hair is much shorter than he would like, but still is a mop of inky curls. He has slightly smudged eyeliner and had put black lip gloss that morning. He has on black baggy jeans and a black hoodie, 3 sizes too big. He enters the bathroom and sees John at the urinal. His mind goes blank. What to do now? He asks himself. When there is no answer from his brain he turns and goes to the row of sinks. He starts washing his hands. He looks up as John is zipping his trousers, catches his eye and says “Hey”.
John with a puzzled slightly awkward look says “Hey” and turns to wash his hands. Sherlock continues to look intensely at the older boy. “I saw you playing this afternoon.” He blurts out. “Yeah, I think I saw you there.” John replies.
“You look like a pretty good player.”
“Ta very much.” John says starting to really wonder what’s going on. “Do you play?” he asks just for something to say. Sherlock still staring at John shakes his head. “I’m going to be going back to Eaton in a fortnight.” Sherlock volunteers. “I’ll be closer to London.”
Now John is narrowing his eyes at Sherlock. “O.K…and…” he says slowly.
At that exact moment one of John’s team mates comes through the gent’s room door. He looks Sherlock up and down and says “Hey John is this little posh freak bothering you?” Sherlock freezes. John looks at Sherlock with an apology in his eyes. Speaking to his friend he says “No Jim, leave it. I’m fine.” To Sherlock he says a soft “Sorry Mate” and grabs the door to leave. At the threshold he turns back to Sherlock and says in a louder voice so Jim will be sure to overhear, “Nice to meet you, kid” and leaves. Sherlock is mortified. He thinks to himself well that couldn’t have gone any worse. He walks quickly from the loo and straight out the front door.
Mycroft see Sherlock bolt and follows him. Violet was just finishing some chips at their table and sees what happens after John comes back and sits down. Jim comes back to the table and sits next to John. Jim starts to laughingly tell his friends about the posh freak that was bothering John in the loo. John stands with his fists clenched and says in a soft stern voice “Jim you are a wanker! He wasn’t bothering me and posh yes but I don’t think he was a freak.” John sat down, and Jim stopped laughing.
Violet and Sieger stood and left the restaurant. Sherlock was sitting in the car with is earphones in and the sound turned way up. Violet tried to let Sherlock know John had defended him to his friends, but he wouldn’t listen to a word. She tried again the next day, and the next.
On the day Sherlock was going back to school, Violet finally cornered him.
“Listen to me for just one minute Sherlock; I need to tell you something. It’s about John.” Sherlock interrupts her. “Who?” She frowns. “Now Sherlock luv, you know who John is!” Sherlock looks at her like she’s talking nonsense. “Oh” Sherlock says”Whoever he was I think I deleted him. There is a new boarded up room in the basement of my mind palace.”
Violet looked at her younger son a little exasperated, she had heard Mycroft and Sherlock talk about their mind palaces. “I just wanted you to know John defended you after you left.”
Sherlock shrugged. “OK Mummy whatever.”
On the way back to London, Mycroft tried to talk to Sherlock about John again. “I already told Mummy that I boarded up “Doctor John’s’ room. Sometimes I can’t delete things completely so I just board up the rooms.”
Mycroft thought about this briefly, and then he said. “OK would you do something for me, Sherlock? Put a poster on the outside of his boarded up room that says, “John defended you after you left. Please!”
Sherlock let out a huff of laughter. “OK Mycroft whatever.”
Over the next 19 years Mycroft mentioned nothing to Sherlock about Doctor John. He however spoke to his parents often on the subject. And he did keep an eye on John’s schooling. Anonymously the Holmes family offered him a full scholarship to medical school at St Bart’s. He was at the top of his class. Most everyone who knew him was surprised when he announced he was going into the military. Mycroft of course knew when John was shot in Afghanistan. Mycroft received word of it in less than 5 minutes after it happened. He cleared John Watson for priority medical care. He now just had to wait for John and Sherlock to cross paths.
It had been hard for Sherlock’s family to know they could do little to stop him from becoming a junkie. Knowing he would survive at least gave them hope there was a light at the end of the tunnel.
When surveillance confirmed that John had met his baby brother, Mycroft kidnapped John to a deserted warehouse. John surprised him. When watched from a distance John seemed perfectly normal. (Normal, dull and boring) When face to face with him Mycroft noticed all sorts of little things that made John stick out from the crowd. John Watson was not all he seemed with a casual glance, or rather more than he seemed.
Mycroft and his parents discussed what should happen now. Of course they couldn’t tell John anything, but what about Sherlock? Mycroft reread the notes pertaining to the “suicide” of Sherlock. It was a criminal named Moriarty that forced Sherlock to jump and spend at least 2 years destroying the criminal’s network of baddies. John was puzzled that Violet hadn't heard of him.
“I have been thinking how hard it will be on them both during that time of separation.” Mummy said. “I was wondering if we should tell Sherlock to find the boarded up Doctor John room in his mind palace while he is searching for Moriarty’s men. That might help him keep his spirits up.” Mycroft thought for several moments then said “Yes and it would help him after he comes back to find John with Mary.” They both agreed this was best.
Six months later Moriarty surfaced when he strapped explosives to John Watson at a public pool. Mycroft now knew his brother had about a year until he would jump off St. Barts. Ten months after that Mycroft stopped by his brother’s flat while John was out. Sherlock as usual was not happy to see him. Mycroft held his hand up in a stop gesture. He then cleared his throat and started. “I realize brother mine you do not wish to see me or talk to me, but please listen to me now. What I have to say to you is very important.” “When you were a teen we had a discussion about your mind palace.” Sherlock waved his hand in a dismissive gesture. Mycroft continued, “There is a small room that has been boarded up in the basement of your mind palace. If you did as I requested there should have a sign or placard saying that ‘John defended you after you left”.” Sherlock looked startled, “What are you talking about?”
Mycroft said “Humor me please. Find the room but don’t go in yet, please.” Sherlock assumed what John called his “thinking pose.” He remained motionless for several minutes. Mycroft sat fidgeting with his umbrella waiting for Sherlock to come back. Suddenly Sherlock was back. He asked Mycroft to explain the meaning of what he had found in his mind palace. “Well I’m not quite sure how to put this but when you were born, you were delivered by a Doctor John Watson who appears to be your John Watson who somehow traveled back in time.” At this Sherlock stood and pointed at the door. “That’s not even funny. Get out Mycroft!” Mycroft stood up, placing a hand on Sherlock’s chest and pulled out his phone. “Just a moment Sherlock. I’ll just call Mummy shall I?“ Mummy answered the phone and Mycroft explained what was transpiring. Sherlock took the phone and turned his back to his brother. He listened to his Mother tell him sketchy details about his birth. Sherlock nodded several times and made several small exhalations of incredulity. He ended with “OK Mummy goodbye. She asked me to give you the benefit of the doubt so I will.” Mycroft outlined what would transpire in the next several months. He also spoke of the fake suicide and the 2 years ferreting out Moriarty’s web of criminals. “We had Moriarty locked up but he wouldn’t break. We have tried to alter the facts that Mummy had, but it seems we will have to let this play out. I knew he needed information about you to portray you as a fake and a fraud. I reluctantly gave in. I know what you will have to go through but I am positive the reward will be worth it in the end. Have you considered how you feel about John?”
Sherlock didn’t really want to admit that he had romantic feelings towards John, especially not to Mycroft. After all there would never be reciprocation as John always stressed he was NOT GAY. Mycroft had mentioned that after he came back John would be marrying a woman, but it would be short lived. He and John would end up in a relationship shortly thereafter. Sherlock was never interested anyone in a romantic way before. He always assumed he was asexual. Even as a teen he had a very low sex drive. Sherlock had to give it some thought, so Mycroft left his brother to contemplate what he had been told and how he felt about it.
He had promised Mummy he would wait to sift through his basement Doctor John room until he was “dead.” She had also mentioned that he had met John briefly years before, when they were teens and those memories were also in that room. Sherlock wasn’t sure he wanted to remember his moody teen years. After the conversation with his brother he spent several weeks being moody, but gradually things went back to normal. Sherlock spent some time reassuring himself that in his absence, John would move on and be happy. He would have it hard but John would not miss him that much whilst he was away. He figured he could get Molly Hooper help him fake his death. There was the Kitty Riley and Richard Brooke story. So everything was in place. He sent John away with the Mrs. Hudson ruse. John was angry and yelled at him about having no feelings and being a machine. He would have preferred to not leave John with such a negative farewell but it couldn’t be helped. He met Moriarty on the roof of St. Bart’s. He was shocked when the criminal killed himself. As he was getting ready to jump, John returned. He wasn’t supposed to be there, was he? So he called John and told him the story about how he was a fake. He was pleading with John to accept the lie. John would serve as his suicide note. He had to choke back the tears. His heart was filled with love for this man. He was doing something was going to hurt himself, but he didn’t matter, only John mattered. At that moment he heard John sound terrified to see him on the edge of the roof. Then it came to him. John had loved him since the beginning. He killed a man the day after they met, just to keep Sherlock from doing something massively idiotic. He was a wanker and a right berk, and still John stayed with him. John continued to stick by Sherlock and be a friend and adviser of rules of common courtesy. He made sure that Sherlock got adequate sleep and food. John had always been his one and only friend. And if all this time travel stuff was true, maybe he had imprinted on John at birth. No one had piqued his interest, ever. He had always felt no one measured up to his idea of the perfect partner. There was a template that he seemed to measure everyone against that seemed to fit John Watson to a T. He was looking forward to what he would find in that basement room. But first he had to jump. Mycroft had told him John would be okay. He had to hold onto his blind faith that Mycroft was right. He had to be right because this was ripping the heart out of him but more importantly it was hurting his John. And so he took a deep breath and jumped.