Face the Odds

Chapter 19: Save Him

221B Baker Street

John walked up into the flat he'd avoided since... since Mary's passing. His old home; it hurt even to think about it. To remember it.

Shaking off the dark feelings, John instead focused on his annoyance as he stepped up the stairs, a task made infinitely easier as Mycroft demanded from inside: "Where is she?"

John could see the man through the open flat door, sitting in Sherlock's armchair, his umbrella leaning against the right arm of the chair while all around him, his men were starting the cleanup of Sherlock's flat, taking down posters upon posters and lines of pictures of Culverton Smith.

"Where's Mrs. Holmes?" Mycroft asked, and one of his men answered: "We're trying to trace her now."

"You lost her?" Mycroft demanded, and the man explained uncomfortably: "She was here when we left your office sir; we will find her soon."

"And Mrs. Hudson?" Mycroft demanded instead, looking annoyed, and the man replied quickly: "She'll be up in a moment."

"Uh, what are you doing?" John demanded as he stepped into the flat, sidestepping Mycroft's men to avoid the strings of posters they were taking down.

"Have you noticed the kitchen?" Mycroft inquired instead, and John glanced over to see the mess of equipment, somewhat tidied in a very familiar way.

He realized a beat later that Marie must have been in, and that she'd cleaned up a bit before Mycroft arrived – the equipment was cleaned but replaced exactly as she'd likely found it. Mycroft would have neatly ordered Sherlock's things, but Marie left things where she found them because she knew that was what Sherlock liked. And somehow, realizing this made John's heart ache once more.

John shook his head as Mycroft, apparently not noticing his preoccupation, stood up whilst continuing: "It's practically a meth lab. I can see Marie's cleaned up a bit, but we can still salvage some things. I'm trying to establish exactly what drove Sherlock off the rails."

John looked around again, pausing as he saw a suited man currently examining a picture of Smith on the kitchen table, while Mycroft turned to him and asked: "Any ideas?"

John stared around, before asking: "Are these spooks?"

John looked back at Mycroft incredulously as he asked: "Are you using spooks now to look after your family?"

"Sherlock is a security concern." Mycroft answered firmly. "The fact that I'm his brother changes nothing."

"Yeah, you said that before." John muttered as he remembered the phone call he'd received from Mycroft three weeks earlier.

Suddenly, his vision of Mary piped up from where she stood just behind Mycroft's shoulder: "Ask him."

She was giving John a stern stare, and John tried to ignore her as Mycroft – unaware of this fact – asked John pointedly: "Why fixate on Culverton Smith? He's had his obsessions before, of course, but this goes a bit further than setting a mantrap for Father Christmas."

He looked at John, who glanced at Mary as she insisted: "Do it. Ask him."

She nodded at Mycroft, who was saying of Sherlock: "Spending all night talking to a woman who wasn't even there."

"Oh, shut up, you." Mary scowled at Mycroft, frowning at him, and John finally decided he'd had enough. 'Mary' was right – it was time for questions.

"Mycroft," John began as he crossed his arms, "last time when we were on the phone..."

"No-no-no-no, stop." Mycroft interjected swiftly, raising a hand and turning away as he said with disinterest: "I detest conversation in the past tense."