Together at Last

Everlasting Struggle

Mycroft comes home after we have settled in the sitting room, telly muted and ignored.

"I picked up your medications Sherlock."

I ignore him, cuddling against John. He wraps a blanket around me, kissing my forehead softly.

"Sherlock."

My brother steps out in front of us, trying to pull me off of the couch.

"Take these."

He tries to hand me some pills and a water, pulling back when I dont move. John lets go of me, gently pushing me towards Mycroft.

"I don't want to take those."

"This is what you picked."

"Fuck off!"

"Calm down. You picked the medications over therapy and being institutionalized. Its not too late to change that."

"I don't need any of it. I'm fine."

"This was your third attempt Sherlock."

"So?"

"So you need..."

I cut him off, screaming something incoherent before storming off to the library. I settle in on the hardwood, pressing myself into a ball in one of the corners. The smell of paper is calming to me, the one true place of safety I have is always the library. John walks in and sits across the shelf from me, watching as I slowly calm myself down.

"Sherlock..."

"I'm not taking them."

"Please."

"No."

"I talked to Mycroft. He said if you can make it through the week with no issues, he will reconsider."

"Fine."

Its a better deal than I can hope for. John holds out his arms, picking me up off the floor.

"You need to go to bed."

"I'm fine."

"He said seven hours tonight."

The hall is empty, I realize it is close to midnight already.

"How long was I in there for?"

"Few hours. You did calm down on your own though, I didnt touch you."

"Shit."

"Come on Sherlock."

I go to the kitchen instead of the room, set on a cup of tea.

"What are you doing?"

"Tea."

"Oh. Good, thats good."

I pull everything out slowly, making sure to set the containers back crooked in their places. John takes a cup from me as well, both of us sitting at the counter. Well, John sits at the counter, I sit on top of it.

"He's going to be upset if he sees you up there."

"I know."

He smiles at me knowingly over the rim of his cup.

"You two are childish."

"Yup."

We lapse back into a loud silence, no words are needed to convey our thoughts. The clock ticks slowly, soon it is one.

"You need to get to bed. We both need sleep."

I take both tea cups, hand washing them. When I put them back in the cubbord, the handles are turned slightly out of line.

"Why do you do that?"

"Do what?"

"The tea cups."

"It irritates him greatly."

"Childish."

He walks back to the room with me, reminding me of what Mycroft said.

"You need to try."

"I will."

"Come here."

I crawl over to him, letting him rock me to sleep. He shifts, waking me up sometime around five.

"Whatre you doing?"

"Go back to sleep John. I'm fine."

"Lie down."

"Water."

"Fine."

He rolls over, falling asleep quickly. I walk into the kitchen again, filling a glass with water. A board in the hall creaks, Lestrade or John is up. Lestrade walks in a few seconds later, wearing his coat and gloves.

"Grab your coat."

"Already have it."

I slip into my coat, which had been on a chair, and tie my scarf around my neck. He has the keys in his hand, Mycroft must have woken him up to watch me.

"Mycroft said I could take you back to your flat to grab your stuff."

The drive is slow and silent, neither one of us makes a conversational attempt. I run in and grab a few things, making sure to snag my violin case on the way out the door. We will be back here soon, I dont plan on staying at Mycrofts for very long.

"Ready?"

"Yeah."

Lestrade goes straight to bed once we get back to their flat, telling me to get some sleep as well. I stay up, pulling my violin from the case. It is around seven when someone comes into the room, Mycroft watches me play for a few minutes before leaving to the kitchen. I smile, knowing full well how much I irritate him.

"Bloody hell Sherlock!"

He starts moving things back immediately, cursing loudly. Lestrade walks out, asking what we are doing.

"He bloody rearranged the kitchen while we where sleeping."

"I moved a few things while making tea."

I stop playing, letting the silence settle before I begin again. Mycroft comes back in, tea in hand, and sits across from me.

"Did you sleep?"

"A little."

"How many hours?"

"Four."

"I said you needed at least seven."

"Fuck off."

I raise my bow again, playing a sweet melody. John walks out around eight, plopping down beside me. I slowly pack up, setting my instrument in the case carefully.