The Puppeteers (Mycroft Holmes)

Chapter 12

Chapter 12 - To Be Needed

Jason burst through the open door of 221B Baker Street to find Mycroft standing tensely in the middle of the sitting room. Cameron hobbled slowly up the stairs behind him. John Watson, his wife, and Greg Lestrade were frantically searching through the building for signs of the detective.

"Nothing!" John shouted as he bounded back up the steps. "Just his coat." He huffed and shrugged helplessly. "I don't understand."

"He was here." Mycroft said quietly. He went to the bookshelf and found a small device. He handed it to Cameron. "Have Havi check that." She looked down to find it was a camera. "Jason, I want eyes on the CCTV. Doctor Watson, Detective Inspector. You know his hideaways. Search them, please."

They nodded and hurried to do as they were told. Cameron hesitated on the step. She looked at Mycroft. He moved slowly to shrug into his coat and stared at the dusty violin case sitting across the leather armchair. He sighed. Cameron ducked her head and focused on the struggle down the steps.

It started raining around six that evening. Cameron had met up with Mycroft to let him know what they had found on the camera. Sherlock had stumbled into the flat about two hours before they got the message. He had wandered around for a bit, collapsed on the floor to have what looked like a panic attack, and then wandered out just twenty minutes before they got there. She was sitting with the passenger seat as far back as it would go to stretch her leg and talking to Mycroft as he settled into the back seat. They started on their way to Baker Street when a man walked in front of the car. The driver slammed on the break and cursed loudly.

He rolled the window down. "What the hell do you think you're doin'?! Get out of the road!"

The man stumbled towards them and Mycroft tensed slowly. He scrambled for the door suddenly and ran into the rain. The driver's head whipped around. "Sir!"

Mycroft stood in front of the body, hesitating as his sudden appearance evidently threw the man into a panic. Cameron's breath shuddered in relief.

"It's Sherlock." She breathed.

She leaned out of the window just as Mycroft took a step towards his brother. Sherlock stumbled back. "Sherlock." Mycroft's voice was quiet, hoarse with feeling. His brother froze and then his shoulders crumbled in on themselves and his legs gave way. Mycroft caught him, wrapping his arms around him. He pulled Sherlock into the car. Mycroft slammed the door and went around to the other side. Cameron turned at the hip to look at the detective. Sherlock slumped against Mycroft's side and turned his face into his brother's arm.

He was shivering violently and mumbling frantically into Mycroft's suit. Mycroft brushed the detective's hair out of his face and shushed him. Cameron turned away, struck silent by the look on his face. The driver looked at her but said nothing.

Mycroft felt the cold turn warm with relief. He felt Sherlock's heaving breaths and his quivering shoulders. One thin, shaking hand wrapped itself into his jacket. He put a hand on Sherlock's back and shushed him. He pulled his phone out. "Doctor Watson, I have Sherlock. I'll send my driver around to get you after I bring him to a hospital." He hung up and looked down at his brother's soaked and curled up form.

*

Cameron had left after Sherlock was declared drug-free and likely to recover well - physically at least. He had two broken ribs and a fractured arm. John slumped in one of the chairs and fell asleep. Mycroft sat back in the seat across the room and watched his brother wake up slowly. He leaned forward and watched Sherlock's eyes open wide. His heart rate spiked and his breathing escalated.

"You're in a hospital. She's gone." Mycroft murmured.

Sherlock turned towards him. His vitals returned to normal. "Who's gone?"