Chapter Text
It was a short time after Holmes’ return from his supposed death that I received a request from Holmes’ brother, Mr Mycroft Holmes. He had gotten some distressing news from his physician concerning his heart, and he was seeking out a second opinion before going to the trouble of consulting a specialist. I said nothing of the appointment to Holmes, because I did not wish to cause him undue worry.
I made my way to Mycroft’s rooms, which were in a townhouse located exactly between Mycroft’s government offices and the Diogenes club. I must admit to some curiosity, and I couldn’t help but compare the tastes of the two brothers. The place was kept neat, but that could be the hand of a housekeeper or landlady, similar to our Mrs Hudson. Both brothers seemed to enjoy covering their walls in prints and collecting books. However, Mycroft’s were of detailed maps of the world and volumes about history and mathematics, instead of the portraits and obscure topics of poisons and toxins that Holmes preferred.
I will not bore you with the details of my examination, and merely say that I was able to give Mr Holmes good news, as I disagreed with his physician’s diagnosis. It wasn’t until I was putting my instruments away in my bag that I came to realize that the purpose of this visit may have been more than medical.
“And how is my brother?” asked Mycroft.
“Very well. He’s in high spirits because he just recently solved a case, one I’m sure he’ll tell you all about in due course.”
“Yes, no doubt.” Mycroft seemed to be examining me with those shrewd eyes of his. “You and my brother have been together for some time, haven’t you?”
“Well, yes. I’m quite honoured to call him my dearest friend.”
“Much more than his friend, his enduring companion, I would say.”
This gave me pause. There was nothing strictly improper with what Mycroft had said, but I could tell from his tone that he was implying a much deeper connection than what I shared with Holmes.
“You do your brother a disservice, sir.” I said, snapping my bag shut.
“And you do me a disservice, by believing I would think negatively of Sherlock if such a thing were the case.”
I stood there dumbfounded, unsure how to respond.
“Good Lord, man, sit down. I had no idea your sensibilities were so delicate.”
I took the seat opposite Mycroft.
“You know, Dr Watson, until recently if my thoughts turned to you at all it was just to be grateful that Sherlock had found a flatmate with whom he could get along and appreciated his skills. It wasn’t until my brother’s forced sojourn to the continent that I began to reconsider things. For it was for your company that he so desperately yearned to return to England.”
I was flattered by the very idea, but I knew that it was not so.
“But, you must be mistaken, surely it can not be for that reason alone.”
“I do not think I am. You do realize that Sherlock could have set up shop as a consulting detective in almost any city with an English enclave. Paris, Rome, Berlin, even India or the Americas if he so chose. Even after the conclusion of this Moran business, it probably would have been safer for him to do so.”
“But Holmes without London, that doesn’t seem right.”
“Sherlock Holmes without Watson would seem even worse.”
I was unsure how to respond to such a statement, but I felt that it might be as close to a compliment I may ever get from the senior Holmes.
“Thank you, but I fear you place too much value on our relationship.”
“I don’t think so.” He considered me for another long moment. “I was so sure... well, I guess even a Holmes can make an incorrect deduction from time to time. Are you sure?”
“I am. Your brother is my cherished friend and companion, and I admire him above all men, but that is the extent of it.”
“Hmm, would it surprise you to hear that I’m disappointed?”
“It would indeed considering the current climate.”
“Oh, that dreadful law, it does more harm than good.”
I was surprised to hear him spout such a negative sentiment.
“Your brother once told me you were essential to the British government, that it could not be maintained without you.”
“I suppose that might be true. It doesn’t mean I agree with every fool law the politicians come up with.”
I laughed at that.
“No, my disappointment stems from my long felt protectiveness of my brother. I’ve always thought that a man should make his own way in the world to the best of his circumstances. So, I’ve tried not to interfere with Sherlock’s life, but I’ve been there at the side standing by if he needed help, but who will be there for Sherlock if I’m no longer waiting in the shadows?” Mycroft looked away, as if admitting so much about himself was uncomfortable for him.
“But I told you, your health is fine.”
“That may be, Doctor, but I’m growing old, we all are, and God willing I will go long before Sherlock. What then?”
I knew that dread, I had always worried that if I left Holmes alone too long he would neglect himself to a terrible degree. Although he did manage three years without me, I had the feeling they were not pleasant experiences. I tried to find the right words to reassure Mycroft.
“I can not promise you that we will always be together, for I do not know what the future holds, but I can tell you this, your brother shall always remain my friend, and he shall always have a place at my side if he wishes it.”
Mycroft gave me a look, it was a fleeting moment, but I’m sure it conveyed some relief.
“Thank you, Dr Watson.”