The Labyrinth of Fragile things

Chapter XVIII- An unpleasant conversation

"Yes, Mycroft?" As soon as John and I left Scotland Yard, Mycroft rang me. No doubt that he's watching us with his government cameras.

"Sherlock, Brother Dear, how are you?"

"I really should be asking you. It's quite unlike you to take interest in how I'm feeling."

"Well, I would suspect that you're at your happiest. If not a good crime scene, then John Watson is what usually puts you in a good mood."

...

"Yes, I know all about John's happy return to London," he spoke with an air of confidence.

"John never left London," I corrected him. John's attention turned to me as he heard his name.

Mycroft tittered. "It doesn't interest me where John's been, I wish to talk to him about the present."

"Mycroft-" I began my argument but he would he have no word of it.

"I understand that you want to spend time with your dear friend as you two have been separated from each other for a dreadfully long time," it's time like these when Mycroft uses my caring to his advantage. And I hate him with every fiber of my being. "But I would like to speak to Doctor Watson as soon as possible."

I stifled a sigh. "Fine, but I will accompany John." I ended the call before he could protest.

"What was that all about?" John asked as we walked on a pathway not far from Scotland Yard. I looked ahead of me as the dark clouds covered what little light was left of the day.

"Mycroft wants to talk to you. Quite desperately, actually," I added with a hint of uncertainty in my tone.

John sighed and bowed his head slightly. "Not one of his Big Brother talks I hope."

I chuckled, hailing a cab that was rolling down the street. "Most likely."

~

We soon arrived at Mycroft's manor, being ushered in by his staff. As much as I tried to forget about my last visit here, I couldn't help but bring myself to that unpleasant and desolate place that I shared with my Mother.

Of course I care about you.

Lies, all she ever did was tell lies, and they only became more transparent as she tried to think of a story to deceive me. I seem to remember living in a castle of glass, becoming more fragile and clear as I grew.

"Sherlock," John's firm voice pierced the veil between us.

"John?" I asked, awaking my senses once again.

He gave me one of his reserved smiles, as if scared that I left him again.

"I'll try to not be long, but you know your brother; he has a way with words and gets a bit carried away."

We were standing outside Mycroft's private chambers. How we got there I have no idea. "I'm coming with you," I said a little too defensively.

John grinned as he noticed how protective I was being. "Mycroft won't appreciate the jape. Trust me, I've had more of these secret meetings with him than you know."

And with that he disappeared into the chambers of Mycroft Holmes.

I lent up against a mahogany wall and let out a sigh as no one was watching. Mycroft always was one for dramatization. People always mention my how theatrical I can be, even John who once called me a 'drama queen', but they really haven't dealt with Mycroft. I suppose he was more passive in his ways, but he certainly loved the attention.

I had no doubt about what the were talking about. The only reason Mycroft ever confines in John is by some means of reaching out to me. And to be honest, I much prefer it that way. I've never enjoyed Mycroft's brotherly talks that he so often used to give. John telling me what Mycroft wants is usually more amusing. Until John becomes more of a postman than a friend. And I won't let Mycroft put John in any danger, no matter how he thinks he's helping me.

In a few minutes, John and Mycroft emerged from his chambers. Mycroft was rocking on his umbrella while John looked as though he had just eaten something rotten. "Always a delight talking to John. He's an exact embodiment of what you're not." I suppose that's one way of revealing what they were discussing.

I scowled at Mycroft. placing a hand in my trench coat. "Goodbye Mycroft," my tone was not as light as the words might suggest. John followed me out and we were back in the same cab that brought us there. "So, how was that?"

John shrugged, nonchalantly. "Mycroft always knows how to make a conversation go from light banter to serious family matters."

"He really does, doesn't it?" I said, reminiscing on our childhood.

"He spoke of the usual. 'Now that you're back and ready to resume work with my brother, you must look after each other.'" John mimicked Mycroft's voice, and I couldn't help but laugh as John was contagious when he was happy.

"I don't know why he cares so much. I certainly don't worry about him," I said once we both recovered from laughing. John didn't say anything, to my disappointment. He knows more about being human than I do. "I'm sorry that you had to endure that. Those conversations are never comfortable."

John turned to look at me with a quizzical look on his face. The sun seemed to appear again, his light hair reflecting the beams of light that managed to escape through the tree branches as the car moved. "You apologized. Again. And it's only my second day back," he said in disbelief.

A grin formed my lips and I looked out the window. "I guess you're rubbing off on me."

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A/N: Mycroft's being a drama queen again :p

Just letting all my wonderful readers know that this fan fic will be finishing soon. It only has a few chapters left, and I will hopefully update tomorrow.

Until then,

Bye!