It Started With Stealing | Sherlock Holmes

74 - Well Eye'll Be Damned

A/N - Warning: Disturbing scenes (well, descriptions? Imagery? Ugh idk 😂)

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It was nearing ten'o'clock in the evening. Rita still hadn't awoken but her strong heartbeat continued - the doctors believed she would recover well, despite having such nasty burns. Mycroft had persuaded his parents to go home and return in the morning seeing as Sherlock and Elizabeth would appear to stay for longer.

Mycroft had removed his black blazer and had rolled up his shirt sleeves, taking to pacing across the room floor. The thief had left to fetch the three of them coffee, leaving Sherlock leaning against the wall, watching his brother walk lines into the floor. The government official was practically breaking out into a sweat.

"Exercising at a time like this?"

"Let's see, sit and stress myself into aging more or exercise the stress away - which do you think I'd really choose?"

"Neither. I know you'd rather be binging."

Mycroft glared at his brother but continued with his intense walking. Each human had their own method for coping with stress - at this point in time, pacing was Mycroft's coping mechanism. Not that it would wake Rita up any sooner.

"Why are you letting her stay?" Mycroft asked.

Sherlock frowned, thinking this a somewhat obvious answer, "Because she's my partner and her old flat is currently charred and seeking repair."

"Partner? Please." His brother scoffed.

"Well, what do you call Rita?"

"I don't call her anything. Why label something that certainly won't evolve into anything more?"

"Do you really think so little of yourself, Mycroft? Do you really doubt Rita's loyalty to you?"

"She's changed you, brother mine." Mycroft grimaced, refusing to answer Sherlock's questions, "How do you know the thief won't just up and leave?"

"Because I've changed her too." Sherlock then stated matter-of-factly, "She told me so."

"And what if she's lying? What if you are too blinded by love to see through her lies?" Mycroft challenged.

It took every ounce of resistance for Sherlock to not hit his brother there and then, understanding he was merely upset with his own situation, "Don’t displace your own feelings of fear and doubt onto me, Mycroft."

"Fear? Doubt? Please."

"Don’t pretend you don't care about her."

"I don't. I don't care if she lives or dies."

Sherlock shouted at him, knowing Mycroft could never truly mean a statement so cold, "Don't build walls back up around you the second something goes wrong!"

"Then what am I supposed to do?!" Mycroft snapped, raising his voice, "Go on, Sherlock, because you know it all, what am I supposed to do?"

He gestured to Rita, his palm flat and pointed, "A woman who loves you is lying in that hospital bed, there. Look at her, Mycroft."

The elder Holmes refused to do this.

"Mycroft, look. At. Her."

Reluctantly, his older brother gave in at seeing Sherlock's hard stare, his gaze clearly softening in distress at acknowledging Rita's state again.

"Is Rita a weakness to you? Yes or no?"

"Yes."

"Is Rita a disadvantage to you and a dangerous one at that? Yes or no?"