Together at Last

Stop

John helps me into the flat slowly, fully aware of how badly my feet hurt. As soon as the door opens, Mycroft stands from the couch and walks over.

"Where the hell where you two?"

He is cut off by John, who steps out in front of me. 

"Lay off, we just went out for the night."

Mycroft goes to respond, but changes his mind suddenly. He sits back down, falling hard into Johns chair. 

"You weren't walking where you?"

"No."

"Where did you go?"

I interject now, he can't sit there and interrogate us all morning.

"I needed to get out of the flat, John took me out."

"Did you sleep at all?"

"Does it matter?"

He backs off, watching silently as I limp into the kitchen. John follows me, making me sit at the counter. He goes and grabs two  of the glasses Molly brought over, filling them with water. He hands me two of the medicine capsules, watching to make sure I swallow them before turning away from me to make breakfast. I fall asleep on the counter, waking up in my bed hours later. John is beside me, still sleeping, but there. The door opens, Mycroft checking in on us.

"Hey."

I consider ignoring him, as I usually do, but he has seen that I am awake.

"You can't stay mad at me forever Sherlock."

"I can stay mad at you for as long as I like."

He sighs, leaning against the doorframe.

"Sherlock please, we need to talk about this."

"Like we 'talked about' you wanting to take me back to an institution?"

I know I should shut up now, stop before I go too far, but I can't. Even when I sit up, waking John, I cant stop yelling at Mycroft. Its hurting him, I can see that. 

"Sherlock?"

John is confused, sitting up as well and trying to make me stop.

"Calm down, please."

I finally stop yelling, silence filling the flat. John is still trying to figure out what he woke up to, finally noticing Mycroft  standing in the doorway.

"What is going on?"

"Nothing."

Mycroft doesn't say anything, John looks up at me in obvious disbelief. My brother leaves the flat entirely, gone before I can say anything else.

"Are you going to explain anything to me now Sherlock?"

I don't say anything, just sit there in shock of what I have just done. Mycroft doesn't often walk out like that. John pulls me against him, lying back down on the bed. 

"Hes just trying to help you, we're all worried."

"I know."

"What happened?"

"We got in an argument."

"Obviously."

The conversation dies down quickly, me being in as bitter of a mood as I am. Johns presence calms me, as usual, enough to loosen up again.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah. Im...fine."

"Are you sure?"