sherlockbbc_fic | prompting part XXIII

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prompting part XXIII

All new prompts go on Part XXIV
Prompts from this post can be filled on the Overflow Post

IMPORTANT! Spoilers for aired episodes are now being allowed on this area of the meme, without warning. If you do not want to encounter spoilers, please prompt at our Spoiler-Free Prompt Post.

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If a prompt leads you to an original idea, please create your own prompt. The chatter or love posts are the proper places to share jokes or talk about prompts that have inspired you.
(prepared by anonymous)

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WARNINGS/OFFENSIVE WORDING IN PROMPTS
Please consider warning for triggery prompts (and also for fills, because some people read in flat view) and phrasing prompts in a manner that strives to be respectful.

Things which you might want to consider warning for include: Rape/Non-Con, Death, Suicidal Thoughts, Self-Harm, Underage Relationships, among others.

That being said, this is a kink meme. As such, there will be prompts that could offend you in a number of different ways. Not every prompt will have a trigger warning, and not every prompt will rub you the right way. If you have an issue with a specific prompt, feel free to bring it up in a discussion that takes place off the meme. However, flaming will not be tolerated regardless of origin.
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LINKS AND AFFILIATES
Delicious Archive - Delicious Prompt Archive
Filled Prompts Post - Page-A-Mod

Part I - Part II - Part III - Part IV - Part V - Part VI - Part VII
Part VIII - Part IX - Part X - Part XI - Part XII - Part XIII - Part XIV
Part XV - Part XVI - Part XVII - Part XVIII - Part XIX - Part XX
Part XXI - Part XXII
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Silence. Mrs Hudson took a few steps forward, as if testing the vision before her. Surely this wasn't real. Having Sherlock has a tenant must have finally driven her mad. Of all the people she had expected to be behind that door, Mycroft Holmes was not one of them.

“Is it really you?” She queried, not even sure if she would received an answer. It looked like him in any case. Paler, thiner, clearly been badly hurt, but put those things aside, he really did look like one Mycroft Holmes. The man before her nodded, clearly not sure where to begin his explanation. She moved closer, raising her hand as if to stroke his cheek, instead giving it a very, hard slap, that almost knocked over the poor man.

“Mrs Hudson!” Was all Mycroft could say, he was shocked, that had been the last thing he'd expected. Violence was a reaction he was expecting from John and Sherlock but not from kind, old, Mrs Hudson, clearly here was a side to her he didn't know about. She turned, her eyes fuming but didn't close the door, definitely an invitation then. He limped inside with aid from his crutches, able to hear her pottering around upstairs.

-----

She was in their flat, making tea it appeared, when Mycroft finally made it up all those steps. He sat down on one of the armchairs, laying the crutches beside him, wincing as pain shot up his leg. Mrs Hudson kept glancing at him as she brewed the tea, still not convinced he was real.

Because how could he be? He'd been killed in the explosion, she knew, she had to watch his little brother mourn, something that had broken her heart. If Mycroft Holmes was indeed alive and sitting in this flat she was going to give him a piece of her mind.
Mrs Hudson picked up the two cups and sat down opposite Mycroft, handing him one of the cups.

Mycroft took it hesitantly, have expecting her to throw it in his face. “So then, Mycroft Holmes, you better have a very good reason for not being dead” Or so help me you'll have me to deal with. He coughed on his tea, almost hacking up a lung. She waited and then leaned over hitting him hard on the back. "T-thank you Mrs Hudson" He wiped his mouth and tried to figure out where to start this story.

"I do have a good reason, thank you very much, simply put I didn't find out that people though I had perished in the explosion till it was too later, they gave me a newspaper while I was recovering in the hospital, thats how I found out. By then I suppose there was little I could do to put things right, at least not until I'd recovered completely and was sure Moriarty was not watching"

"You could have called"

"I had no money, no phone, how do you suppose I would have been able to do such a thing when I have only recently been released?"

"You broke his heart"

"......I know"

She sipped her tea. "You don't look well...you were badly hurt weren't you?" It was the only explanation in her mind for not contacting them earlier. He nodded, his eyes focused on the floor. "They were not sure I would make it. I wish I could have let them know, John and Sherlock...I read John's blog..I know some of what has been going on"
Oh Mycroft dear...he looked so sad, so full of regret and worry for his little brother. Sherlock needed mothering, it was clear to her that Mycroft needed that just as much.

Oh, Mycroft...

*Wibble*

This is going to take a lot of work to fix, isn't it?

lol probably...dude what happens when kink meme runs out of page....it's almost there now....lol XD what do i do?

I believe that's what the overflow post (Linked in top) is for.

aah... i don't understand what to do lol....but i have the next chapter ready...so what do i do?

Well, you could either keep posting here or move to Overflow. If what you're mainly concerned about right now is how tiny length-wise the comments are then you could probably post them in reply to an earlier chapter, they'd still show up at the bottom but wouldn't be so thin.

like in reply to the first chapter?

“Well you're here now and that's what matters, but If you read John's blog, then you know they are overseas?”

Again Mycroft nodded. “I..have nowhere to go, I was hoping perhaps I could stay here until they came back or until I was able to get back in contact with my people. I was hoping for a few days rest before I do such a thing.” The sooner the better in his mind but his body disagreed.

“You need a lot more rest than just a few days, Mycroft Holmes” replied Mrs Hudson as if chiding a child. “You can take Sherlock's room, it's the neatest. Which is a bit odd really, considering the state of the rest of this house.” Mycroft gave her a small, grateful smile.

“Thank you Mrs Hudson, I promise I won't be in your way” She dismissed this with a wave and a warm smile. “It looks like I better go and buy some groceries for you, goodness knows what's in their fridge right now, I dread to think” She stood, forming a grocery list in her mind, she had no Idea what sort of food Mycroft liked, so he will just have to be satisfied with what ever she brought.

“...I am glad you're alive, I don't ever want to see poor Sherlock like that again. He'll be happy to I expect, once he's gotten over the initial shock” I hope so Mrs Hudson, I hope so.

He watched her leave, relieved that he now had somewhere to stay, somewhere familiar. He picked up the small bag that contained, at the moment, his whole life and lugged it towards Sherlock's room. It was very neat, even his bedroom as a child had not been that neat. But Mycroft supposed that now that he had more rooms, he could evenly spread around his life.

He placed the bag on the bed, his eyes been drawn to a corner of the room. There, against the wall, lay an umbrella. He picked it up, studying it. This was his, the one Sherlock had given to him as a child...so they had gone through his home then. He held the umbrella against his chest for a moment, before putting it back down. Sherlock....please forgive me...

-----

Meanwhile back in Paris....

----

Sherlock had just been released from Hospital into John's capable hands. More than ever, rest was paramount and John wasted no time in searching the entire hotel room for any spare syringes. Sherlock maintained it was the only one but as much as John would like to believe him, he didn't.

The man in question was again lying on the couch he'd nearly died in. John shuddered, dismissing the thought. The sooner they left Paris the better. He took out some bread and butter and began to make a sandwich. Sherlock needed to eat. Still so thin. John handed Sherlock the plate of food and did not move until he began to eat.

“I'm alright now John”

“Bullshit”

Sherlock couldn't think of anything to reply to that statement. John was probably right, he wasn't ok, but he would be. It would take time, but he would be.

Boooooooooysssss

;_;

Mrs Hudson had expected Mycroft to be much easier to deal with than his little brother but he was anything but. He was just as bad. He didn’t play the violin at three in the morning and he did eat, usually. But he could sit for hours on end thinking, completely ignoring everything and he had begun to complete a few of Sherlock’s left over experiments out of boredom. Clearly this was a Holmes trait. He could be just as rude and arrogant as Sherlock, though usually only if he was stressed and in pain.

She placed a plate of scrambled eggs in front of him, he was reading in Sherlock’s armchair, he wrinkled his nose at the food before him, as he had a lot lately. He considered his palate far too sophisticated for…scrambled eggs. But food was food, and he was hungry.

“Don’t turn your nose up at it young man, you eat what you’re given”

“You’re not my mother Mrs Hudson and I am not my brother”

“Clearly you both need mothering, so get used to it Mycroft Holmes”

He had noticed, from the week he’d spent here so far recuperating, that she had a habit of calling him by his whole name when she was frustrated with him. It was some what annoying but also quite touching, he was beginning to see why Sherlock was so fond of her.

“You don;t happen to know at all when they plan to come home?”

She shook her head. “Soon I hope, they’ve been away for awhile and those two can find trouble just about anywhere. I have been thinking of giving them a ring sometime soon…maybe I should today? See how they are” Mycroft shrugged.

“Don’t mention that I am alive, it’s better for the both of them to see me face to face, I would not want to cause them the pain of anxiously waiting to get home.” Mrs Hudson shook her head tsking. “They need to know soon, how long to you plan to keep up this charade, Mycroft Holmes”

“Until I am well, It is much safer for myself to stay low until I can be sure that Moriarty is not still watching, he’s a crafty fellow”

“Well… I think I’ll go give them a call right now”

——

They’d packed and left Paris a few days ago, now they were in Rome. John could see Sherlock enjoying himself a lot more now. They’d already visiting several places, some slightly morbid but Sherlock seemed happy and fascinated so John didn;t really mind. But they were really creepy places.

First they’d visited a crypt full of the bones and skulls of monks. Sherlock was fascinated, pointing out the different patterns to John, occasionally trying to guess what they died from. Then they’d visited the catacombs, that had seriously freaked John out, Sherlock was having the time of his life however. After that they’d visited some normal tourists sites, like the Colosseum and the Pantheon. John had taken so man photos he’d needed to upload half onto his computer before continuing.

Here was a photo of Sherlock in the crypt, his eyes lit up, pointing at a morbid chandelier, talking to John. Here was another, taken by Sherlock this time. John was in the corner, looking slightly freaked out and uncomfortable. Another photo, John was wearing a roman helmet, Sherlock was next to him laughing, another with Sherlock wearing the helmet looking less than amused, John however was beside himself. They’d found a fellow tourist from London to take those photos.

John turned off the camera, glancing back at his friend who was yelling at the television, some things never changed. And then the phone rang. That was ….odd, even Sherlock turned to look. John picked it up, wondering who on earth would be calling , they were on holiday!

“Hello?”

“John dear! It’s Mrs Hudson!”

“Who is it?” Tell them to go away John

John moved the phone away from his mouth. “It’s Mrs Hudson” Sherlock sighed and rolled his eyes. “Don’t tell her anything, you hear?” Not relising that across the sea, his brother was alive and making the same request of Mrs Hudson. John waved a hand at Sherlock and continued talking.

—-
(need to figure out how to post the whole thing on overflow...)

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prompting part XXIII

Re: Oh Brother Of Mine 37/?

OP

Re: OP

OP

Re: OP

OP

Re: OP

Re: Oh Brother Of Mine 38/?

OP

Re: Oh Brother Of Mine 39/?