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Brilliant Minds	By : FairyBean Category: S through Z > Sherlock (BBC) > Sherlock (BBC) Views: 4812 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction, I do not Profit from this writing and do not know or own Sherlock Holmes, Dr. Watson or any of the other characters used in this work. I also do not own Sherlock (BBC) franchise or anything related to it.

Chapter List
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Thank you readers and reviewers, I like getting them :)

Bit shorter chapter this time, only about 2000 words because I realised I haven't updated in a while. So thanks for your patience and on with the story.

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John came back in juggling three cups of tea. Only one was perfect. Mycroft would make his displeasure known but would either drink the hospital stuff or inconspicuously get rid of it. Sherlock was likely to throw it in his face.

He wasn’t prepared to see the scene that met his eyes when he came through the door. Sherlock asleep in Mycroft’s loose embrace. He stopped perfectly still and Mycroft looked up at him with eyes that held back tears.

“I know how you feel John, but I have only one way to make my brother sleep. Sometimes he needs to recharge before he falls down from exhaustion. This is one of those times. And he can only fall comfortably if his brain can stop being so loud for a while. It only happens when he feels safe. One day you’ll see him relax first-hand. It really is something quite rare and beautiful.”

John gaped. There was nothing in that sentence he could understand. Nothing at all. So instead he put the tea down on the little table, and resettled himself in the chair. “How long do you think before he wakes up?” he asked quietly.

“He won’t until I leave. I’ll give him three hours at least. He needs that.”

“What did you mean by you know how I feel?” he added as his brain caught up with the conversation.

There was silence for a moment as Mycroft regarded him with a slightly narrowed eyes, then they widened a little in what John assumed was shock. “You don’t know?” there was mirth in the question but it was asked in seriousness. John was uncomfortable. He had never seen Holmes emotion. He knew it existed but it was something different to the normal people’s definition. But now, right here in front of him Mycroft was showing real, honest to god caring. Though of course Sherlock was asleep and wouldn’t know about it.

“I have no idea. But if it helps Sherlock sleep then it can only be to the good. Are you safe here? Do you need anything else?”

Mycroft chuckled and then shook his head. “You are something completely new doctor. I have never had the pleasure of being able to trust a person. But whether he knows it or not, my little brother trusts you.”

“Which means you do?” John asked, feeling like he knew where this was going. It was like the father telling the boyfriend not to hurt his daughter.

Mycroft scoffed. “Of course not. But you are more trustworthy than most I see. Besides, it isn’t me we are talking about.”

He seemed to decide something then and shifted to stand up. Sherlock stirred. “Take my place, hurry and he won’t wake,” he said with a smile. John moved almost before he thought about it. Sherlock needed rest otherwise his body was going to just get worse. Sherlock settled against him, snuggling like a child. Mycroft raised an eyebrow.

“Well that is new,” he said and turned to leave. “If you need anything, don’t hesitate to call.”

“Wait…you and Lestrade….?”

Mycroft paused at the door and gave one nod. John smiled easily. He was happy for the detective, though he was unsure that Mycroft would be any easier to handle than his younger brother, but at least the elder could be reasoned with without needing a handful of PHD’s and some Einstein level intelligence.

“I’m happy for you,” he said softly as Mycroft left. He looked down on the dark hair that haloed around the head on his chest and sighed. There was something about a quiet Sherlock that seemed to put a whole new face to the usually handsome man. He seemed more vulnerable, more childish…and cute. John shook himself. No, he was not bent, he wouldn’t even go down that road.

The phone buzzed on the small drawers beside him and he picked it up. Sherlock didn’t password his phone. He really should considering all those who were out to get him but John sighed again and read the message.

Another body. This one too badly cut up to identify and no symbol on the flesh. They left a medallion for you. Another strange shape. – Greg

John looked at the text, at the name that was signed there and wondered when Lestrade had become Greg. He scrolled through some of the older texts, half laughed at the conversation the pair had had before and realised that would be why. He text back quickly.

Sherlock out. Will inform him later after some rest. – JW

He didn’t even get to put the phone down again before it went off.

Wake him. We need him on this. Letter came. Threat. One every hour until Sherlock is out of Hospital.

There was no signature on this. John looked at the words there on the screen and wanted to put the phone down. He wanted to ignore it but he knew he couldn’t. He was a doctor and there was no way that he would just ignore someone’s suffering.

I don’t want to… he replied back and then the phone began to ring. Sherlock jumped a mile into the sky and winced as his head hit the pillow. He stared up at John with wide, almost scared eyes and then he seemed to snap back to himself.

“What is it?” he asked and grabbed the phone before John could even voice a word, let alone make a coherent sentence. “Speak,” he said and shifted, looking at John in the way that he did that let John know he was deducing him. He raised a brow in question and Sherlock shook his head.

“Lestrade. Shut up. We will be there in a moment.”

“No, Sherlock. No you have to stay here!” John almost begged. The detective was in no shape to really move, never mind go traipsing after a murderer. John looked helpless as Sherlock hung up and started to get unplugged from the wires and things. John took his phone, looking through the call list quickly and then dialling Mycroft. He spoke as soon as it clicked live without care whether it was Mycroft or his secretary.

“He’s leaving the hospital. Some stupid threat about people going to die for each hour he stays. Help me!” he almost yelled before hanging up and then hurrying to Sherlock’s side. He tried to push the Detective back into bed.

“John let go! We have a criminal to catch, you cannot let me stay here. So make yourself useful and find me chair!” he ordered in his deep voice. The command stirred something in John, some remnant of his army days most likely but he nodded and went in search of a chair. Half glad that Sherlock was acquiescing to having one and not walking out of there on his own two feet.

--

Lestrade stared at the phone with a strange expression on his face. Mycroft looked up at him, a raised eyebrow his only interest in the conversation that had taken place.

“What do they want now?”

“Sherlock is leaving the hospital, something about people who are going to die for every hour he stays..” Greg trailed off but Mycroft was already on his feet and at the computer. He pulled up all the messages and calls sent to Sherlock’s phone in the last half an hour.

“Call him back, tell him it wasn’t you on the phone, and then find your bloody phone Greg, because whoever has it is leading my brother into a trap.”

Lestrade moved without hesitation, Mycroft did not get emotional over anything except his little brother, and for him to be this emotional he knew something bad was happening. Well, hell, he knew something bad was happening anyway since the state Sherlock had been in was in no way good enough for walking about the place.

He ran a hand across Mycroft’s bare shoulders. “Your brother isn’t stupid, he will have known the voice wasn’t mine.”

“And yet he still goes, and John goes with him,” he said back quickly, shrugging off the hand that offered him comfort. “Just go, quickly.”

Lestrade nodded and headed out of the room, grabbing his shirt on the way past and cursing the young Holmes in his head. He would catch a break sooner or later, and until then he guessed Sherlock made life exciting.

“John?” he asked as the line on the mobile clicked live. “I didn’t call before. Whatever you're going into, it’s probably a trap. On second thoughts, it is nearly 100% going to be a trap.”

The other end of the phone was silent, and then went dead. Lestrade swore, and his fast walk became a run.

--

John looked at Sherlock as he was sat in the wheelchair. It was the best one John could find, but that was before the call from Lestrade.

“Sherlock…who called?” and even to his own ears his voice was rough. Sherlock stilled for a nano second, usually it wouldn’t be noticeable but John had a lot of experience in watching the man before him. “You knew it wasn’t him. Sherlock what were you getting us into?!”

“John, just…just follow.” He turned the chair and was out of the room before he knew what was happening.

“Wait! You can’t be serious Sherlock? This is madness and-”

He stopped as he looked into those eyes and saw the deep sadness mixed with the stubborn will of a Holmes. “People are dying. We cannot let it just happen for me to sit around in a hospital bed. If he is watching then he will call back when we leave, it’s the only logical thing to do.”

He started wheeling himself down the corridor again and John sighed and picked up the handles of the chair, waiting for Sherlock to stop pushing the wheels before he started to push himself. “Besides,” Sherlock added almost under his breath “I have you to look out for me.”

John rolled his eyes but didn’t comment as they took the lift down to the foyer. Sherlock’s phone started to ring as soon as he got through the front doors. Sherlock answered it without a word.

“Very good,” the voice at the other end said. “Now, you’ve saved one person, but that was easy. I’d go to the station were I you, and see what awaits you there.”

Sherlock raised a brow at that. “Train, bus or Police,” he muttered just before the phone went dead. A second later a smiley face text appeared along with the words “What do you think?”

Sherlock showed John and he shrugged. “Well, normal people would call the train station the station. But we aren’t normal people.”

“Helpful,” he answered scathingly but there was an undercurrent of happiness in the voice. John smiled.

“We shall go to the police station. He is sure to tell us if we go wrong. He wants something from you. And you know I will not let you act without thinking of the consequences Sherlock.”

“I always think before I act. You know that.”

John managed another smile as he went towards the main area where the taxi’s waited and hailed one to come and help them. “I meant the consequences for us,” he murmured to himself as Sherlock got into the cab and waved him in after him hurriedly.
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Brilliant Minds