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Sherlock sat in an interview room just off of Mycroft’s office contemplating what he had done with much deliberation. There was no other way, that was his “plan B” when he took John there in the first place, there was no point worrying about it now. Moriarty had taught him that sometimes he really did need a plan B. He knew he didn’t have a choice, he wanted to keep John happy and to keep John happy he had to protect Mary.
He knew there was only one option when it came to what happened to him now and as much as he knew it would kill him even if it was only in 6 months, he couldn’t hate Mycroft.
Speaking of which, the door opened, and there he stood a look of dejected acceptance on his face.
Sherlock ducked his head, he couldn’t bear to look at him.
“Leave,” he growled quietly.
The man behind Sherlock, still carrying a heavy duty rifle (as if Sherlock would try anything now? Really) headed out, glad to be out of the brothers' way.
“Why did you do it Lock?” Mycroft’s tone sounded like it was taking a lot of effort to not crumble.
“You know why.”
“I’ve always told you sentiment is a weakness.”
“You’re wrong.”
Mycroft raised an eyebrow and collapsed in the seat opposite his little brother.
“Sentiment may make us do unexpected things, but those are things that are never regretted.”
“Really, little brother?”
“Not in my experience, Mycroft. Now hurry up I know you’re going to ship me away. You said earlier losing me would break your heart. Well I’m sorry brother-mine but I have a chance at survival, you have a chance for me not to ‘break your heart’. I’ll try my hardest not to die, it’s my main aim, but John, John Watson would have broken, utterly and completely if he had forgiven Mary and then she was taken away from him. I can’t do that to him, I nearly destroyed him once and he found her, I will not do it again.”
“But Magnussen was not your responsibility Sherlock!”
“No, he was yours. And you let me down!” Mycroft was not mistaken in the hurt he heard in the detective’s tone. “All that time you knew, you must have known there was a reason Wiggins was at our parents’ and yet you did nothing! You practically handed me over! So, no, I do not regret it. I would die to save John Watson, in fact I have. And I would do it again in a heartbeat so enough of the questions.”
“Please, Sherlock, please don’t do this.”
“What alternative is there? This wasn’t drugs Mycroft, this was murder!”
He stood up, more than aware the door was locked and he had nowhere to go anyway. Sherlock suddenly looked defeated. “You may think I messed up Myc, but I didn’t. I really didn’t. I would do the same again and as much as it pains me to say it, I would do the same for you.”
“Oh Lockie,” Mycroft said softly. He stood too and eyed his little brother up and down. “Seeing as I refrain from this in public.” He reached out and cupped the back of Sherlock’s neck before pulling him into a hug.
Sherlock swallowed tightly, the fight with his tears almost conclusive.
“You haven’t hugged me in years.”
“And that was Redbeard’s fault.”
Sherlock held on tightly as if for dear life. He then sniffed and took a deep breath before letting him go and taking a step back. “What happens now?”
“I believe Mr. and Mrs. Watson have moved into Baker Street.”
“John moved out the first time I died, why would he move back this time?”
Mycroft smirked patronisingly, like he knew something that Sherlock desperately needed to know.
“Because you are not going to die, Sherlock. Not on my say so.”
Sherlock cocked his head on one side, growling.
“Sentiment is a powerful thing. You are not the only one guilty of it.”
“I murder for sentiment, what do you do? Send Lestrade round to my flat on a drugs bust.”
“No I get you off murder charges for sentiment. You’re going back to Baker Street, little brother.”
“I don’t understand.”
“You’re wrong about me. I don’t think you realise how far I would go to protect you, I don’t think I realised either. You’re my little brother, Sherlock, and as much as we fought when we were children, you’re the most important thing to me. You’re my family and people do a lot for family. Like you do for John Watson.”
“I thought we weren’t people.”
“There’s a lot of things that make us not like people, Sherlock, but now? Right at this moment in time? We are.”
“I still don’t understand.”
“Doctor Watson’s line I believe.”
“Mycroft!”
“You did me a favour and in turn the British Government.”
“Did I?” Sherlock raised an eyebrow in question.
“Magnussen, you gave me the perfect escape route, no awkward questions.”
“But you said he was no danger to you, nor the British Government.”
“I wasn’t going to tell you the truth now was I, Lock?”
Sherlock growled. “Don’t call me that.”
“Oh why not?” Now that the practicalities were out of the way the chance to wind up his little brother took president over anything else.
“He was always too clever to get caught. We could never prove anything and he is- was a very powerful man, almost as powerful as me, in fact.”
“So you lied to me when you knew I had got close!”
“You didn’t get close Sherlock, you barely touched the sides!”
The younger man scowled, “I got closer than you!”
“Petty argument, brother-mine.”
The detective sighed. “How did you supposedly get me off anyway?”
“I’ve told the investigators you were on official business for me.”
“How?”
“The laptop.”
“What about it?”
“Did you check what was on it?” Mycroft countered Sherlock’s question.
His younger brother’s head dropped. “No…”
“Rookie error, brother-mine, elementary mistake. Of course I knew what you were up to, I’m not as naive as mummy. I wasn’t going to leave national secrets lying around when you had invited a drug dealer for Christmas. Now back to Baker Street little bro.”
Sherlock actually smiled at that, pleased he had underestimated his older brother, to the extreme.
“Thank you,” the younger said, full of gratitude.
“I would destroy worlds to protect you Sherlock.”
“Sentiment really is a powerful thing.”