You Owe Me

Two

After another painfully long night in an uncomfortable cell bed, Sherlock was awoken by the loud sound of shaking keys echoing through the prison.

"'Olmes! You've got another visitor!"

Sherlock groaned. Jim can't be back this soon. What if it is him? Or worse, my mother? Sherlock shuddered, and quietly followed after the guard, having given up on correcting his grammar.

When he got to the visiting room, he was greeted by a formal handshake - from his father.

"Father." Sherlock nodded and smiled a little, as necessary, then turned to face his older brother.

"Mycroft." His brother smirked at him and placed his hand on the side of Sherlock's arm.

"It's good to see you Sherlock. Don't try and kill me though or anything." Mycroft laughed at his own joke, and Sherlock sneered, as he walked over to a table with benches and gestured for them to sit.

"So, son, what's it like in prison, eh?" His father tried to look genuinely interested, but Sherlock could tell that there was something on his mind, and it was more than likely to do with his government work.

"It's horrid. It's cold, and uncomfortable, and ugh - unsanitary. And everyone is disgustingly unintelligent - and more than anything, it's just dull." Sherlock sighed. "But it doesn't really matter. How's your work doing?"

"It's... fine. We've got a couple of loose criminals - maybe you'd know about that, hmm? There's a lot of things to be stressed about, but it's almost under control I suppose. We just have to hope that in a couple of years when Mycroft inherits my job, after he's completed his apprenticeship, that he can keep it under control."

Sherlock's father sighed, and Mycroft looked at the man.

"Yes." Sherlock said.

His father cleared his throat and stood up, and waited for Mycroft to do the same. Mycroft glanced at his brother, who stood up as well, and then followed their father.

"Uh... Mycroft?" Sherlock questions after a hesitation.

His brother and father both stop and look back, almost simultaneously. It was kind of creepy. Their father raises an eyebrow, obviously a little curious about what Sherlock would want. These two rarely talked to one another when given the choice.

"Yes, brother mine?"

Sherlock sucks in a breath, needing a bit of courage. "Can I talk to you for a moment, please?" He forces a smile as he says the word.

Mycroft glances to their father and the older man nods, giving his approval. Then he walks off, towards the exit. Sherlock frowns at him and slumps a bit, trying not to be too disappointed that his father didn't seem to care all that much about his situation and didn't even care enough to goodbye.

Mycroft sits again and arches an eyebrow at his younger brother, an amused look on his face, but Sherlock could tell he didn't know anything and was far more curious than he dared to let on.