Mind if I Smoke? Chapter 4
Title: Mind if I Smoke?
Author: Dreykar
Fandom: Sherlock (BBC)
Word count: 1933
Genre(s): General
Rating: PG
Warnings: Drug use
Summary: Six moments of the Holmes brother's relationship based around situations of smoking. A 5 plus 1 format story, the five times Sherlock and Mycroft smoked with each other and the one time they specifially chose not to. Really a telling of their brotherly relationship across time.
Sherlock 30, Mycroft 37
"Sherlock calm down" John pleaded, hands raised non-threateningly. He'd tried everything else.
"You don't understand, go away!" the disturbed detective snarled, not stopping his pacing around the living room of the flat.
The doctor tried reason again. "Look I know you're bored, it's been a week and a bit since the last case but-"
"-really not helping" Sherlock sneered right in John's face, daring him to do something. Nothing happened. With a growl he was then back racing around the room in strange patterns, pulling at his hair and yelling. His brain was burning, he felt like yelling, crying, laughing, hugging, pushing away, talking, being silent and moving all at once.
John had adopted his doctor voice. "You've been manic for the last day, especially the last few hours-"
He was cut off as the taller man barked humourless laughter while looking a little desperate. The words came falling from his mouth, dripping out like venom. "Sarah's going to break up with you, you're not what she wants, she hates the fact that you're not 'available' all the time. You resent the fact that you were banished to the sofa so often and there's no going back for either of you. You don't mind the dance but not when there is little to no pay off. Your sister lied to you, she's back on the booze, she's been pawning off some of the things left by your parents that she looked after while you were serving. You're disappointed that she's doing it but you can't be bothered with the conflict that will be caused if you confront her about it so you don't. Your shoulder has been hurting more and more but you're too stubborn to go to the specialist as you know it's become worse but it's more 'real' if they tell you. You want to catch up with a few of your army buddies but you don't want to as you'll be told stories and there are people who have died and you don't know who yet so it's easier not to know and STOP LOOKING AT ME!" he bellowed at the end, kicking the chair and sucking in a shaking breath.
John raced off upstairs. Sherlock kept doing what he had been doing then realised somewhere in the back of his consciousness that he was shaking all over. He came to a conclusion then paced off to his bedroom, shutting his door and locking it.
"Mycroft" John said, he had to go to his own room to get his phone which was charging. He tried not to be hurt by what Sherlock had said as he knew he wasn't in his right mind, but it meant he needed reinforcements. This was easily the worst episode that John had seen from his friend and it tugged at his heart to see him like this.
"John, what's the matter?"
"It's Sherlock. He's been manic, he's pacing, pulling at his hair, making strings of unrelated deductions. His eyes, they-"
"-John, I'm half an hour away. I could bring in others but I think they would just escalate the problem. Now listen carefully, I need you to do some things for me. Thank you" he said more softly then a car door closing was heard, he was on his way. "Firstly, offer him a cigarette, I've had some left in the head of the bull skull on the wall. If he accepts, stay with him, talk to him, make sure you can see him"
"I think I heard his bedroom door close"
"Then hurry, he could start any moment"
"Start?"
"Drugs, Dr Watson. I'll be there soon".
"Jesus, Mycroft"
"Stay with him, John". Suddenly the line went dead.
The doctor made his way downstairs as fast as he ever had. He knocked on Sherlock's locked door. "Can I come in?"
"How's my brother, John? What's wrong, did I scare you? Too much for you to handle? Decided to leave yet?"
"Would you like a cigarette? I've got some here, why don't you come out?"
"Nice try, John. I award you full points for effort, what's it like to be a pawn of my brother's? Wait, you have been since the day we met!"
John went over and retrieved the pack from the bull skull, he had to stand on the desk to do it. "Sherlock open the door so I can-"
Suddenly the bedroom door opened and in a flash the pack was snatched from him and he was pushed back a bit. Before he could move forward the door was slammed and was locked again.
"Luckily I have a lighter in here, not good enough, it's impolite to offer without a light! Tisk tisk!"
"Let me in!" John yelled and rattled the door handle and then pounded on the door. "Sherlock, I want to talk!"
"Talk? Talking's boring". The sound of a lighter scratching was heard then a few moments later the sound of plastic tearing.
"Sherlock that better not be a syringe" he warned, voice laced with concern and authority.
"We'll make a detective of you yet, John"
"Sherlock!" the blond yelled as he banged on the door frantically. Suddenly he saw movement at his left, he hoped it was the elder Holmes but saw a flash of dressing gown.
"John, I heard noises. What's going on? What's wrong?"
"Mrs. Hudson, Sherlock-he" he noted he was talking to an elderly woman. "It's fine you should go back downstairs, he's gone a bit funny"
"He's been off for a few days. Have you called someone?"
"His brother". The sound of the window opening and shutting sounded out, perhaps he should wait for Mycroft rather than calling the emergency services as he had just been thinking to.
"What about that lovely policeman? He can talk some sense into him"
"Lestrade isn't a good idea right now" he admitted with a meaningful look.
John wasn't the only one whose detective skills were picking up or maybe it was women's intuition. "I checked his room last week and couldn't find anything" she put her hands up to cover her mouth. "You don't think he's brought something else into the house do you?"
It had become quiet in the bedroom. "I think he has, I'm sorry Mrs. Hudson"
"Oh, don't be silly, don't worry about me. How long until his brother is here?
"Ten minutes at a minimum".
"Sherlock, it's Mrs. Hudson, dear. How about you come out here and have some tea with John and I? I'll get a pot ready?".
Nothing.
John tried to break down the door now, it was a testament to the landlady's unwavering support of her special tenants that she moved back to give him move room rather than trying to stop him.
He tried for a minute longer then someone moved him out of the way. "The bathroom door will be far easier, this one is deadlocked". Mycroft Holmes walked into the bathroom and pushed on the door. "Once this is over, John, I will be instructing you on correct 'Danger Night' procedure. You weren't to know". From his pocket he pulled out a few tools and began to undo the lock.
"So that's where he learned that from" the ex-army medic commented with a nod.
"Actually" the British government replied as they heard a click and he swung the door open "this is one of the things I've learned from him".
The room was empty. Even through his stress John couldn't help but admire the way the older man worked. His eyes took in the disposable syringe wrapper, the single drop of clear liquid next to it and a couple of belts lying on the bed, he'd obviously gone through a few to find the right one to use to tie off his arm. His eyes flicked across to the window which he walked towards and began to open, it hadn't been shut the entire way.
"It's cocaine, first relapse since you've moved in. He's smoked in here, injected then gone up to the roof using on the fire escape". He was removing his blazer and taking off his tie which he walked over and placed gently on the bed. "You've performed admirably, Doctor Watson. Keep your phone with you in case I need your assistance but I doubt we'll need to resuscitate tonight".
"Where are you going?"
Only now did the elder man risk almost rolling his eyes. "You're to stay here, make Mrs. Hudson some tea, settle her with a soother back in her flat. I'll be back down later". He awkwardly began to get himself out the white framed window. John came over to assist him after he had stumbled a few times, not really knowing the best way to do this. "I will admit that I'm not famed for my climbing skills".
"But when it's important?"
"Anything if it's important. Anything". It took him a couple of minutes to climb up the stairs. He knows that he's torn part of the trousers, he's red in the face and sweating but is more concerned with what he'll find above.
When his head finally pokes up over the edge of the building, he can see his brother lying on his back on the roof, still, watching the night sky. He feels better once his two feet are safely on the concrete and he goes and sits down next to the detective, picking up the pack of cigarettes and lighting one for himself. He needs a reward for that legwork even though he hadn't smoked for months.
"It's all fine now, Mycroft. I can concentrate, my mind has settled. Funny it takes a stimulant". He was still fidgeting but this was far from the worst he had seen him.
The elder man just looked sad, if he hadn't been at a function tonight he would have come around earlier and this could have been avoided. "You were doing so well".
"Hrm. Yes. Maybe. Not really. I've been so bored, my mind it tears itself apart without the proper stimulation. Burning itself, ripping it to shreds. You know".
"I'm sorry it's come to this". Mycroft sat next to him, watching above them. "Doctor Watson is concerned"
"John" the detective sighed softly. The tone told so much.
"He is a good man, Sherlock. It is not my place, or way, to tell him so. You didn't say anything too harsh in your state did you?"
The younger man just blinked and turned away. After a minute or two he lit a cigarette and continued to lay silently, not wanting to discuss his thoughts on the wonderful man downstairs waiting for him.
"Do you remember when I taught you the constellations?" the suited one said conversationally.
"Once when I was angry with you I deleted them" he explained simply with no emotion.
The elder one showed no outward sign of his hurt. "See that one there? That's called…"
They spent the night up there learning the different stars together. Again.
Next: Sherlock 31, Mycroft 38.
Feedback is appreciated :)
Previous Chapter
Next Chapter
Author: Dreykar
Fandom: Sherlock (BBC)
Word count: 1933
Genre(s): General
Rating: PG
Warnings: Drug use
Summary: Six moments of the Holmes brother's relationship based around situations of smoking. A 5 plus 1 format story, the five times Sherlock and Mycroft smoked with each other and the one time they specifially chose not to. Really a telling of their brotherly relationship across time.
Sherlock 30, Mycroft 37
"Sherlock calm down" John pleaded, hands raised non-threateningly. He'd tried everything else.
"You don't understand, go away!" the disturbed detective snarled, not stopping his pacing around the living room of the flat.
The doctor tried reason again. "Look I know you're bored, it's been a week and a bit since the last case but-"
"-really not helping" Sherlock sneered right in John's face, daring him to do something. Nothing happened. With a growl he was then back racing around the room in strange patterns, pulling at his hair and yelling. His brain was burning, he felt like yelling, crying, laughing, hugging, pushing away, talking, being silent and moving all at once.
John had adopted his doctor voice. "You've been manic for the last day, especially the last few hours-"
He was cut off as the taller man barked humourless laughter while looking a little desperate. The words came falling from his mouth, dripping out like venom. "Sarah's going to break up with you, you're not what she wants, she hates the fact that you're not 'available' all the time. You resent the fact that you were banished to the sofa so often and there's no going back for either of you. You don't mind the dance but not when there is little to no pay off. Your sister lied to you, she's back on the booze, she's been pawning off some of the things left by your parents that she looked after while you were serving. You're disappointed that she's doing it but you can't be bothered with the conflict that will be caused if you confront her about it so you don't. Your shoulder has been hurting more and more but you're too stubborn to go to the specialist as you know it's become worse but it's more 'real' if they tell you. You want to catch up with a few of your army buddies but you don't want to as you'll be told stories and there are people who have died and you don't know who yet so it's easier not to know and STOP LOOKING AT ME!" he bellowed at the end, kicking the chair and sucking in a shaking breath.
John raced off upstairs. Sherlock kept doing what he had been doing then realised somewhere in the back of his consciousness that he was shaking all over. He came to a conclusion then paced off to his bedroom, shutting his door and locking it.
"Mycroft" John said, he had to go to his own room to get his phone which was charging. He tried not to be hurt by what Sherlock had said as he knew he wasn't in his right mind, but it meant he needed reinforcements. This was easily the worst episode that John had seen from his friend and it tugged at his heart to see him like this.
"John, what's the matter?"
"It's Sherlock. He's been manic, he's pacing, pulling at his hair, making strings of unrelated deductions. His eyes, they-"
"-John, I'm half an hour away. I could bring in others but I think they would just escalate the problem. Now listen carefully, I need you to do some things for me. Thank you" he said more softly then a car door closing was heard, he was on his way. "Firstly, offer him a cigarette, I've had some left in the head of the bull skull on the wall. If he accepts, stay with him, talk to him, make sure you can see him"
"I think I heard his bedroom door close"
"Then hurry, he could start any moment"
"Start?"
"Drugs, Dr Watson. I'll be there soon".
"Jesus, Mycroft"
"Stay with him, John". Suddenly the line went dead.
The doctor made his way downstairs as fast as he ever had. He knocked on Sherlock's locked door. "Can I come in?"
"How's my brother, John? What's wrong, did I scare you? Too much for you to handle? Decided to leave yet?"
"Would you like a cigarette? I've got some here, why don't you come out?"
"Nice try, John. I award you full points for effort, what's it like to be a pawn of my brother's? Wait, you have been since the day we met!"
John went over and retrieved the pack from the bull skull, he had to stand on the desk to do it. "Sherlock open the door so I can-"
Suddenly the bedroom door opened and in a flash the pack was snatched from him and he was pushed back a bit. Before he could move forward the door was slammed and was locked again.
"Luckily I have a lighter in here, not good enough, it's impolite to offer without a light! Tisk tisk!"
"Let me in!" John yelled and rattled the door handle and then pounded on the door. "Sherlock, I want to talk!"
"Talk? Talking's boring". The sound of a lighter scratching was heard then a few moments later the sound of plastic tearing.
"Sherlock that better not be a syringe" he warned, voice laced with concern and authority.
"We'll make a detective of you yet, John"
"Sherlock!" the blond yelled as he banged on the door frantically. Suddenly he saw movement at his left, he hoped it was the elder Holmes but saw a flash of dressing gown.
"John, I heard noises. What's going on? What's wrong?"
"Mrs. Hudson, Sherlock-he" he noted he was talking to an elderly woman. "It's fine you should go back downstairs, he's gone a bit funny"
"He's been off for a few days. Have you called someone?"
"His brother". The sound of the window opening and shutting sounded out, perhaps he should wait for Mycroft rather than calling the emergency services as he had just been thinking to.
"What about that lovely policeman? He can talk some sense into him"
"Lestrade isn't a good idea right now" he admitted with a meaningful look.
John wasn't the only one whose detective skills were picking up or maybe it was women's intuition. "I checked his room last week and couldn't find anything" she put her hands up to cover her mouth. "You don't think he's brought something else into the house do you?"
It had become quiet in the bedroom. "I think he has, I'm sorry Mrs. Hudson"
"Oh, don't be silly, don't worry about me. How long until his brother is here?
"Ten minutes at a minimum".
"Sherlock, it's Mrs. Hudson, dear. How about you come out here and have some tea with John and I? I'll get a pot ready?".
Nothing.
John tried to break down the door now, it was a testament to the landlady's unwavering support of her special tenants that she moved back to give him move room rather than trying to stop him.
He tried for a minute longer then someone moved him out of the way. "The bathroom door will be far easier, this one is deadlocked". Mycroft Holmes walked into the bathroom and pushed on the door. "Once this is over, John, I will be instructing you on correct 'Danger Night' procedure. You weren't to know". From his pocket he pulled out a few tools and began to undo the lock.
"So that's where he learned that from" the ex-army medic commented with a nod.
"Actually" the British government replied as they heard a click and he swung the door open "this is one of the things I've learned from him".
The room was empty. Even through his stress John couldn't help but admire the way the older man worked. His eyes took in the disposable syringe wrapper, the single drop of clear liquid next to it and a couple of belts lying on the bed, he'd obviously gone through a few to find the right one to use to tie off his arm. His eyes flicked across to the window which he walked towards and began to open, it hadn't been shut the entire way.
"It's cocaine, first relapse since you've moved in. He's smoked in here, injected then gone up to the roof using on the fire escape". He was removing his blazer and taking off his tie which he walked over and placed gently on the bed. "You've performed admirably, Doctor Watson. Keep your phone with you in case I need your assistance but I doubt we'll need to resuscitate tonight".
"Where are you going?"
Only now did the elder man risk almost rolling his eyes. "You're to stay here, make Mrs. Hudson some tea, settle her with a soother back in her flat. I'll be back down later". He awkwardly began to get himself out the white framed window. John came over to assist him after he had stumbled a few times, not really knowing the best way to do this. "I will admit that I'm not famed for my climbing skills".
"But when it's important?"
"Anything if it's important. Anything". It took him a couple of minutes to climb up the stairs. He knows that he's torn part of the trousers, he's red in the face and sweating but is more concerned with what he'll find above.
When his head finally pokes up over the edge of the building, he can see his brother lying on his back on the roof, still, watching the night sky. He feels better once his two feet are safely on the concrete and he goes and sits down next to the detective, picking up the pack of cigarettes and lighting one for himself. He needs a reward for that legwork even though he hadn't smoked for months.
"It's all fine now, Mycroft. I can concentrate, my mind has settled. Funny it takes a stimulant". He was still fidgeting but this was far from the worst he had seen him.
The elder man just looked sad, if he hadn't been at a function tonight he would have come around earlier and this could have been avoided. "You were doing so well".
"Hrm. Yes. Maybe. Not really. I've been so bored, my mind it tears itself apart without the proper stimulation. Burning itself, ripping it to shreds. You know".
"I'm sorry it's come to this". Mycroft sat next to him, watching above them. "Doctor Watson is concerned"
"John" the detective sighed softly. The tone told so much.
"He is a good man, Sherlock. It is not my place, or way, to tell him so. You didn't say anything too harsh in your state did you?"
The younger man just blinked and turned away. After a minute or two he lit a cigarette and continued to lay silently, not wanting to discuss his thoughts on the wonderful man downstairs waiting for him.
"Do you remember when I taught you the constellations?" the suited one said conversationally.
"Once when I was angry with you I deleted them" he explained simply with no emotion.
The elder one showed no outward sign of his hurt. "See that one there? That's called…"
They spent the night up there learning the different stars together. Again.
Next: Sherlock 31, Mycroft 38.
Feedback is appreciated :)
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