Day 14--Advent Prompt 24: Arguments
Title: You Better Not Pout
Author: aislingdoheanta
Fandom: Sherlock
Characters/Pairing: Mycroft/Lestrade, John/Sherlock
Summary: Sherlock and Mycroft keep fighting over every little thing. John and Greg are tired of it.
Rating: T for suggestions of drug use.
Word Count: 1600
Notes: Written in response to adventchallenge prompts. Every day for the first 25 days of December I will be posting a fic here. Part 2 in Holmes for the Holidays series. First Part is here.
Warnings: None.
Disclaimer: Obviously Not Mine
John had been keeping score since they left yesterday to make the journey to the Holmes Estate. It was Sherlock: 4 and Mycroft: 4. Every time one of them would get a leg up, the other would take a break to gather their bearings. Then they would fire right back. It was a vicious cycle.
Mycroft had one the first tiff yesterday in the car when he made the reference to Sherlock not remembering Christmas and The Heater Incident. Mycroft plus one.
Sherlock had fired right back with the incident with the cake. Sherlock plus one.
The disagreement of what we were going to do tonight since neither of the Holmes boys wanted to sit around here. Sherlock plus one for again mentioning Mycroft's weight from years ago.
Mycroft wanted Sherlock to bring his violin because he knew how much their mother loved hearing him play. Sherlock didn't want to because he doesn't like to play in front of many people. Mycroft plus one from mentioning Sherlock's disappearance.
When they were all going to be leaving the Estate. Sherlock plus one for threatening to make Greg's life hell both on and off the job. John believed his direct phrase was something like "I have unlimited minutes and I will not be afraid to use them. And I will know his new number."
The planning of where certain family members were going to be staying for the night. Sherlock didn't want anyone around, especially Adina. Or his Uncle Sherringford who constantly talked about how Sherlock should be more like Mycroft. Mycroft hadn't wanted Sherringford by him or Greg because he always made references to a nice young woman he knew--even thought Mycroft and Greg had been together for eight years now. Mycroft plus one for informing Sherlock of what the staff found when he made them go through his room so he didn't have anything to...distract him whilst home.
Then they argued over how much Sherlock should tell their mother about working with the Yard. Mycroft had won by tapping his arm, right over the inner elbow.
The seating arrangement for the holidays, which their mother always let them settle. Sherlock plus one for giving Mycroft a Look after he mentioned something about how Sherlock and John should not disappear halfway through the meal.
It was getting ridiculous. Greg and John had been forced to watch, listen, and sometimes break them apart. And now the boys were at it again, something about who gets to light the candles this year.
"Feels like all we've done since getting here is referee, doesn't it?" Greg said softly to John as they stood off to the side and watch their partners continued with their argument.
John rubbed his face, feeling tired. He understood that some siblings just didn't get along. He knew that Mycroft and Sherlock cared for each other, and this was one of the ways they showed it, but it was making both himself and Greg exhausted. "Shall we teach them a lesson?"
"What did you have in mind?" Greg said smirking slightly.
"We abandon them for the night. Until they've come to an agreement."
"Neither of them will like that," Greg said chuckling.
"That's the point." John smiled and stood up, walking over to the men. "Enough!"
The Holmes boys turned to look at him, neither of them reacting. They had forgotten there were other people there.
"You two need to work out your issues, but not right now! Not they day before Christmas Eve. I'm tired. Greg's tired." He sighed. "Now, we're going to have a night--elsewhere." John turned and walked back to Greg.
Mycroft and Sherlock watched them, both appearing like they were about to follow. "Alone," Greg said. "Until you two are done. For at least the rest of the evening." He turned and walked out the door, John following him to Mycroft and his suite since Greg knew where he was going.
They settled in on the sofa, watching some comedy show that was on the telly. Some quiz show. It was actually quite entertaining. Greg and John had a great night, just sitting and not having to worry about anything else, which was really all they wanted for this trip. They both had slightly demanding jobs, as well as eccentric partners.
John's phone went off: You've been gone for almost an hour. Come back. SH
Not until you calm down. And stop picking on Mycroft.
I'm calm. I haven't even spoken to Mycroft. SH
Do I get an apology for having to referee this whole trip so far?
If you come back. SH
John laughed, which made Greg laugh. "He would text me to pester me into coming back."
Greg nodded. "And Mycroft's just waiting for you to leave so he can swoop in here to explain."
Both chuckled for a moment, thinking of the strangeness of their relationships.
"Best be off," John said as he got up. "I'll see you tomorrow."
"Cheers," Greg said. He heard John close the main door. Three seconds later--he had to give Mycroft some credit for his restraint--the second door opened. Hesitant footsteps on the carpet.
Mycroft stopped at the doorway. "I apologize Gregory. It isn't fair of me to put you, or John, in that position."
Greg smiled at him and tilted his head. Mycroft took the cue and sat down on the edge of the sofa, his hands fidgeting slightly. Greg didn't say anything. He was waiting for Mycroft to continue.
"I know that it is childish, but that's how we've always been. I don't think either of us really know how to act any differently," he said quietly.
"I know. It was just...a lot to handle in one day," Greg said placing a hand over Mycroft's. "Maybe next year, you two can start these discussions earlier. That would leave more time for us to enjoy the holidays as well."
"That could be a possibility," Mycroft said, shifting slightly closer. "What are you watching?"
"I don't know," Greg said as he chuckled. He pulled Mycroft close and the two spent the remainder of the program in comfortable silence.
In another part of the Estate, John and Sherlock were just starting their discussion. John had arrived and found Sherlock sitting on the sofa. However, Sherlock hadn't gotten up and John didn't go to him. He just leaned against the door frame, waiting for Sherlock to begin the conversation.
"I know you do not understand, but the small family dinner is the most important to both of us. As is the candle lighting. Which is why we were...discussing it with so much passion," Sherlock said, still not opening his eyes.
"Why?" John said, moving to sit on the table across from Sherlock's sofa.
"It was something that my father started when I was born, according to Mycroft. Both of my parents had always been very conscious of spending a lot of time with their families for the holidays, but they never took any time to just spend with each other until Mycroft was born. And even then, it wasn't a lot. So when I was born, my father decided that every Christmas Eve would be just our time. No relatives or anything. So we'd have a dinner and open presents, all by candle light because my mother liked it." Sherlock sighed. "Ever since my father's death, lighting the candles had been something both Mycroft and I have wanted to do." He looked slightly embarrassed, like he had just admitted his deepest, darkest secret. "I know it doesn't sound like something that would cause so much distress."
John had remained quiet throughout his explanation, knowing how difficult it was for Sherlock to admit to caring and feeling. "It sounds like a tradition both you and your brother want to make sure continues."
Sherlock nodded and opened his eyes. John was watching him with that understanding look he always had. Sherlock reached out and grabbed his hand. "I'm sorry you had to witness all of that."
John snorted. "I've seen worse." He squeezed Sherlock's hand. "Did you decide who was lighting the candles?"
Sherlock shook his head. "No. We both left as soon as you and Greg did."
"How many years has Greg come round for the Holidays?" John asked.
Sherlock thought for a moment. "This is his sixth."
"Has he ever lit them?" John asked. Sherlock shook his head. "Then, maybe, it's his turn."
"No. It's supposed to be a family thing, John. Mycroft insists on it."
"Sherlock, he is apart of your family. Greg and Mycroft have been together for years." He smiled at him. "It would mean a lot to both Greg and Mycroft if you asked Greg to light them. Or told Mycroft to ask Greg."
Sherlock scoffed. "I'm not interested in making Mycroft happy."
"Maybe not. But you do not want your brother to be alone again." John almost laughed when he saw Sherlock stiffen with surprise before schooling himself back to aloof. "Just think about it." He stood up and started walking to his suitcase. He was tired and just wanted to sleep.
"Thank you, John," Sherlock said softly from his position on the sofa.
"You're welcome." John knew that Sherlock wasn't merely thanking him for forgiving him. But also for telling him that it was okay to care about his brother. That it was okay to want to see him happy. And for giving him a suggestion that would make everyone, especially Greg, happy this Christmas. Because no matter what Sherlock said, he did just want to make his family happy.