Sherlock Ficlets

Too Much

"Sherlock, I'm headed off to work. Are you sure you don't want me to call in so I can do the shopping with you?"

"No, John. I want to try and do this alone. Thank you for your offer, though. Now, get going before you're late."

John nodded, albeit hesitantly. He knows how hard it is for Sherlock to do certain things on his own because he gets overwhelmed easily. John grabbed his coat and headed out the door, hailing a taxi.

Shortly after John left, Sherlock began to pace in the living room.

"I can do this. I don't need help. I can do this, I can, I can."

He grabs his own coat and heads into town. The moment he exited the taxi, his breath hitched. He closed his eyes for a moment and nodded before moving further to his destination.

Mycroft watched as John left the flat. His eyes widened as he noticed that Sherlock did the same just shortly after.

"Oh dear," he murmured to himself. "This won't bode well."

Mycroft continued to follow Sherlock on every camera that he could.

Sherlock took in his surroundings and began to panic a bit as every bit of noise, smell, and person passing by him, touching him, seemed to send him into overdrive. He froze on the spot, ignoring the staring, murmuring, ignorant people.

He took a step. Stopped. Too much all at once. His senses were frozen in time.

His mind was screaming at him to move, run away, go home, home is safe.

He looks around and has to look back down at his feet. Too much.

Mycroft frowned. "Oh Sherlock," he sighed.
"Anthea, please have Andrew drive me to Sherlock's location. It will be in his GPS system already."

Anthea, who sat in a chair across from him on her phone, put it away and nodded before getting up to do as he asked.

Mycroft kept his eyes on Sherlock the entire ride there. As soon as the car rolled up to where his brother was, he opened the door and softly called out to him.

"Sherlock, get in. Come on, it's all right."

Sherlock turned and looked at Mycroft, eyes wide, body shaking, close to crying.

Mycroft held out his hand. "Come on, Sher. It's okay."

Sherlock immediately took his hand and climbed into the backseat. He sat next to Mycroft and held onto him tightly, as if he'd never let go.

Mycroft tutted softly and pulled Sherlock against him, wrapping both arms around him as he whispered reassuring words into his ear.
Sherlock finally calmed down enough to speak, but just barely above a whisper. His own deep voice seemed to be too much for him at the moment.

"Too much, My, too much. Too much."

Mycroft nodded in understanding. "I know. It's okay. You tried, and that's okay. I am quite proud of you for trying. But you know that should you ever need someone to be with you, you need only ask and either I or someone who works for me will accompany you anywhere. Yes?"

Sherlock nodded that he understood. "I know. But I- just once- I wanted-"

Mycroft held him closer, if that were even possible. "I know. I know. But now no one can ever say that you didn't try."

Sherlock nodded. "I'm sorry I'm such a burden with this."

Mycroft pulled back to look at Sherlock.
"Don't you for one second ever apologize for something that you cannot help. What you have, it's not the end of the wold. You get too much all at once. We all do, sometimes, but you get it far worse, and anyone who can't understand that can, well. You know."

Sherlock grinned up at his brother. "Thank you, My. I know I don't say it enough, or very rarely show it, but I am grateful."

Mycroft grinned back. "I know. I always know."