Organised Chaos - Sherlock x Reader

LI • 51

I sat in Mycroft's office, wincing as his private medic cleaned my wounds with antiseptic.
He was at his desk pretending to do paperwork, although I knew he was actually keeping a watchful eye on me and the doctor dressing my wounds.
I knew he really did care about me- somewhere deep inside.
"Mycroft, I need your.. cooperation."
I knew he would gloat about my asking for help, but I needed his resources.
"Do you mean my help, little brother?"
He looked up from his work with a smirk.
I faltered. "Yes. I need your resources."
He smirked again. "You have to actually admit it, brother mine."
I knew he would do this.
I closed my eyes, winced again at the stinging antiseptic, then slowly, almost imperceptibly, "Mycroft, I need your help."
He smiled smugly. "I just knew this day would come." He said sarcastically.
I rolled my eyes. "Mycroft, John is in prison, wrongfully accused of poisoning (F/N). He asked me for help and now I'm asking you. I need your files and documents on the arrest- any and all information there is."
His face became serious once again.
"Sherlock, I told you sentiment would des-"
"Well they stopped me from using, didn't they?!" I cut him off, yelling.
He shut up, unable to deny this fact.
He sighed. "What do you need?"
"I already told you. Any and all information you have on the arrest of John Watson."

******

John's POV:

I sat in the cell they had put me in the day before. It was awful- cramped and uncomfortable, but I was thankful that it was clean and there was a barred window.
It was early morning now, and the sun streamed through the bars of the window, casting long, thin shadows on the floor.
I stared at these, my thoughts traveling to Sherlock. I hoped that he had gotten the text, that he had deciphered my skip code, that he would help. That he was even able to help. For all I knew, he too was in prison.
I tried to forget these disquieting thoughts. He would help me, he would come back.

******

Sherlock's POV:

I stared at the file in my hands.
'Dr. John Watson, ex army doctor, was arrested on Thursday, 17 December with a charge of the attempted murder of adopted sister Ms. (F/N) Watson (born Moran).'
I was suddenly alert. Moran? Despite that being a common last name, I could think of nothing but Moriarty's right hand man, Sebastian Moran. Had he been your fleshly brother? Did he know? You couldn't have, you'd been so young when John's family had adopted you.
I tried to forget about it. I needed to concentrate on getting John out of prison.
I continued scanning the page.
'Medical examination concluded Tetrodotoxin poisoning, inducing coma.'
Coma. I squeezed my eyes shut, beating myself up for causing this but thanking God it hadn't been fatal.

I glanced at the second file Mycroft had provided.

Sebastian. The file on John's arrest said that Sebastian had been taken in for questioning but had provided a solid alibi- something I knew he was capable of forging.

I really thought I had taken care of him. Now I knew everything that had happened was indeed my fault. I hadn't checked to make sure he had been locked away.
He was a dangerous individual, having been the one who had done Moriarty's dirty work. Despite the threat he presented, he was charming and sly. He had probably worked his way into your life, posing as a friend- perhaps he had been a listening ear for you when you were angry, sad, or even depressed because of me.
I didn't blame you. I knew how charming and prepossessing the bastard could be. He had been a perfect match for Moriarty- alluring but generally daft. Despite having a major in college, he didn't know much, at least not compared to Jim.
Moriarty had called him his 'Watson'. I felt angry just thinking about that.
I needed to fix this.
The file I held was everything the British government had on the scum that was Sebastian Moran. I leafed through it, looking for one particular page.
There it was- his personal life.

Name: Sebastian Augustus Moran
Age: 32
Ethnicity/Race: Caucasian; Irish
Background: Sebastian grew up outside of Dublin on the coast of the Irish Sea. Beginning at a young age, he worked with his father, an angler and Ireland native. In his early twenties, he attended University College of Dublin and majored in Medicine and Toxicology. Two years after graduation, he moved to London with acquaintance James Moriarty.

I stopped reading there. Toxicology. Angler. It made sense.
Tetrodotoxin was found mainly in Fugu fish. Had Sebastian learned about the fatal toxin as an angler, then learned to administer the poison in college? His father, Arthur Moran, had been a surly alcoholic who died of cardiac arrest when Sebastian was 23. Tetrodotoxin had been found in his system during the autopsy, but the coroner had assumed it had been caused by consuming a Fugu that had not been properly cleaned. Had Sebastian practised on his father? Arthur had been arrested for child abuse before- could it have been revenge fueled?
That thought brought back my theory of Sebastian being your brother. You had told me, that day that I had broke down about Redbeard, that you still remembered your awful childhood. You hadn't been adopted because your parents had died. They had been abusive.