sherlockbbc_fic | Prompting Part XXXV

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Prompting Part XXXV

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Ha! Knowing Moriarty, they're all pictures of different people, not his own dick . . .

Mycroft has such a problem with food because when he was young he was kidnapped and locked in a basement somewhere, he was fed and given water enough to keep him alive, and he lived stuck in that basement for years at the mercy of his kidnapper. One day the police caught the kidnapper, (maybe Mycroft wasn't the only one kidnapped?) but they didn't find the house Mycroft was being held in until days later and by the time they found him he was little more than skin and bones, barely clinging to life. Eventually he recovered and returned home to his parents, but nothing was like it had been before.

And then his mother had Sherlock, and Sherlock wasn't ever allowed to know about what had happened to his brother. By the time Sherlock was old enough to be able to deduce people with any level of accuracy, the only evidence that remained was Mummy constantly fussing over Mycroft and making sure that he always had something to eat all the time, and the fact that Mycroft would eat every meal like it was his last, and Mycroft's fear of the dark which persisted into his adult life. (Mummy's even made Anthea promise to keep chocolate and energy bars hidden in the cars and in Mycroft's desk because she still worries.)

Sherlock finds out because there is a case that seems eerily similar to Mycroft's, and the Yard goes back over old files to compare and work out if they have a copy cat. They discover that from the older case there was one survivor but his name has been redacted, and Sherlock wants Mycroft to clear it, except Mycroft won't and he won't explain why. Sherlock continues to push, and Mycroft continues to refuse, until the Yard manages to get hold of one of the officers who had been on the case, and the truth comes out in all of it's disgusting and heartbreaking glory.

In New Zealand we have a comedy show called '7 Days' and one of the games they play on the show is a game called 'Yes Minister' where they get members of parliament to come onto the show and answer 'yes' and 'no' questions given to them by the panel. However, the minister isn't allowed to answer 'yes' or 'no' or 'yeah' or 'nope' or any variation of those. None of the questions are serious questions they're silly things because it's a comedy show, but it's great seeing the politicians getting flustered. Some of the politicians own it, they just take all the questions in stride, but some of them do kind of lose it. And once they say 'yes' or 'no' they're out.

I don't know if Britain has anything like this? But I would love to see something like this happen to Mycroft, he'd be using a different title, of course because 'British Government' doesn't cut it. But 'Minor Government Official' might? (And maybe he's there because whoever was meant to go can't, and whoever Mycroft's superiors are want him to go.) And the panel would just bombard him with the most ridiculous questions ever, ranging from his sex life to 'doesn't the sky look lovely today?' to 'who do you want to be prime minister?' And Mycroft wouldn't be allowed to say 'yes' or 'no' and he wouldn't be allowed to repeat a previous answer, and he's not allowed to leave a question unanswered. I would just love him trying to remain dignified while he's being interrogated about personal things or just random useless things. (And of course, Sherlock loves it.)

Here's a video of a Yes Minister segment. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=00e_GRf6zz0

(Mycroft this is not a kangaroo court. Calm down.)

Oh, I like this one!

oh god, seconded. sorry i didn't fill; i can't write smut to save my life.

Oh this is wonderful. Short and oh so sweet.

A young Mycroft does what he has to in order to get ahead in his career... including providing sexual favors. He tells himself that such acts are insignificant, so why does he is he feeling distressed? It's just physical. There's no need to get sentimental about things like virginity or sex.

Years later he decides to enter into a relationship with a certain Detective Inspector, but finds himself influenced by the past in ways which hinder their future.

+ Sherlock is involved (platonically)
++ Brotherly bantering
+++ CAM finds out or is involved in some way

Bubbling giggles pour out of the violinist's mouth. His eyes are crinkling at the corners. He's clinging to John, hands wrapped around his upper arms and face buried in his shoulder. Hot breath blasts against his skin. John can feel the muscles and skinny limbs trembling against him with mirth. He's hugging the man, long strings of chuckles escaping his him. He can't remember what he is laughing at. Probably at the musician, who raises his head to stare at John, quivering lips pressed together to restrain his amusement. But when the blond releases an irrepressible snort, the curly-haired head is jammed back against his neck.

That's when John makes the mistake of looking down. The younger man's pale throat captures his attention. The V-shaped dip of his shirt hangs down, revealing a shadowy stretch of more skin. His eyes run along the pale expanse, soaking in the sight when they catch a raised, black line on the surface.

"Oi," John says, confusion and concern bubbling up in him. "What's this?"

And just like that, the body in his arms stiffens, every muscle tensing. The laughter is snatched out of the air.

A few seconds of silence crawl by before the man offers an explanation. "Scars," is the muffled reply against his neck.

John remains unconvinced. "They're not supposed to look like that." Then, he blinks. "Wait, scars?" he squawks, pushing him away to look at his face. "There's more than one?"

The violinist avoids his eyes in favor of staring at the small display of pastries at the front counter.

"Hey." The blond shakes the dark-haired man, only to jump back when the taller male straightens and yanks himself out of his grip.

"I don't wish to talk about it," he snaps before sweeping out of the shop, scooping up his coat from the back of a chair.

= • = • = • = • =

A month flies by with a handful of executed customers. On the day of Mike's birthday, John closes the tea shop and drags Mike and Molly outside. They spend the rest of the hours wandering the city and watching the sunlight cast its rays against tall buildings. They're all trying not to think of Mike's fate - John knows that. With his friend reaching the dreaded age of forty and still without a wife, there is only one thing that could happen: being executed.

A week later, Mike pokes his head into the tea shop's kitchen, the corners of his mouth turning down. "We've got another one out there," he says while jerking his thumb over his shoulder. He hesitates before adding, "This one's an executioner."

John falls still, staring down at the tea leaves scattered in his cupped hands. The gurgles of a boiling kettle pierce through the sudden silence. He can hear the soft scraping of Molly's shoes as she scurries around in the storage room in a frantic search for more napkins. He closes his eyes for a brief second, inhaling the thick clouds of steam clinging to his body. Another one? he thinks, the words echoing in the darkness of his head.

"Better get out there, mate," Mike says. A warning tone rises in his words. "Customers are getting skittish."

John manages to nod. "I'll take care of him," he forces himself to say. His voice feels strange, as if it doesn't belong in his throat. His fingers begin to close into fists, trapping the leaves.

There is a short pause before Mike begins to speak again. "I think . . . well." Hesitancy laces his words. "I . . . he's here. To kill someone."

For the first time in the conversation, John's gaze jerks up to meet his coworker's. "I said I'll take care of him!" he snaps, his fists tightening and crushing the tea leaves.

A sudden metallic crash erupts from the storage room, followed by a high pitched squeak.

John pauses, his attention flickering back down to his trembling hands. His teeth dig into his bottom lip as he unfolds his unsteady fingers. He pulls them back and stares down at the bent, green pieces gracing his tan palms. "I'll make the tea," he says before he dusts the ruined leaves off. They float to the floor.

-tbc-

Edited 2014-10-15 04:21 (UTC)

True. That's so true. c:

John doesn't leave.

He walks back to the sofa and places his hand on the back edge. He looks at Sherlock.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"You don't want to know. You have a life to live. Go live it."

"Once you let me know you were alive, I figured you'd been running around London like some sort of James Bond with Mycroft as your Q, enjoying being clever. 'No one is as free as the dead', that sort of thing."

"I know."

"And I thought you didn't want some o..." John stops then starts again, and takes a few steps back from the sofa "...didn't want me tagging along and slowing you down so you left me here. Abandoned me."

"I... I didn't know that, John."

"Do you know how I feel now? If I could have gotten you out of even one of those situations, it would all have been worth it. You denied me the opportunity. And it hurts. A lot."

"I did what I needed to do. I shouldn't feel bad. They were... not nice men." He turns his attention to the magazines strewn about on the end table and straightens them, hoping he has given John just enough of a verbal hint to read the situation correctly. He is entirely too vulnerable right now to begin to discuss all he's seen. All he's had to do. He glares at his own hand as he stacks one on top of the other and matches up the edges, perhaps a bit too obsessively. He rubs his shoulder once more, angry at it for giving him away. John can not be his confidante.

"Sherlock...you ...yeah. I'm sure you did whatever needed to be done. I hope Mycroft fulfilled his only positive purpose as an overprotective git and had you thoroughly looked over and cared for?"

"Yes, yes, nothing that severe."

"Really." John scans Sherlock's body, and his struggle to keep a professional eye is all too apparent. Mycroft would have provided the very best in medical care, if Sherlock had accepted the offer. It looks as if he has, but John still seems uncertain. He wants to touch, to soothe, to repair the damage, the physical and the psychological....both personally and professionally. Sherlock wont let him. He forces his hands into the pockets of his cardigan. He has a better chance at building a time machine and preventing it all from ever happening in the first place.

"Honest. They weren't out to kill me. Just, to keep me away from whoever was running the show. Lots of tying up, not near as much beating with a pipe." Sherlock smiles. John frowns.

"Please tell me one of those show-runners is still alive, so I can have the honor of killing him myself."

Sherlock closes his eyes and shakes his head slowly.

There is a fury in John's eyes that makes Sherlock think his next words are going to be expressing bitter disappointment, but instead he says "Fuck" in barely over a whisper and drops onto the sofa, staring off. It takes a while before he says, even more quietly, "You did it for me."

"I would do anything for you, John."

John is drawn to Sherlock like a magnet, and Sherlock finds himself leaning toward the hand that is reaching for him, heading toward the side of his face, when John suddenly turns and pulls away, as if he too is trying to shake off physical pain. "I... need to think about this."

"No you don't. You made your decision. What I went through back then is irrelevant to the current situation. You said you love her. You want to marry her...you will marry her, was the statement."

"That was before I..."

"Irrelevant, John! We both know what will happen here. And you need to go."

John stares at Sherlock, shaking his head before he leaves.

As soon as the door closes, Sherlock collapses face first onto the sofa, muffling himself so John won't hear as he loses his composure entirely in tears he is no longer able to hold back.

Hi there, OP! Nearing the end...well, possibly. It depends on how you want the ending to go. I have a sad ending now, with one more chapter to go. Since you originally mentioned h/c, I'm mighty short on the c the way it's written at the moment. I can happy ending it for ya and keep going, or add an addendum in the future, once I get a good plan on dealing with Mary, or leave it miserable. Your call.

Hi!
Thank you! I've already read that one :)
heidi

So happy you updated! I need more though. ;)

So sad! :-( I love the angst though. I wonder if they still have a chance.

I hope you're going to post more soon.

Thank you! Deciding if it ends in the next chapter on a down note, or continues for a happy ending later.

Sherlock is, surprisingly, a very good patient because he doesn't get sick that often, but when he does, he's too miserable to even complain or put up much of a fight.

It's Molly who's actually the worst patient of them all. A sick Molly is as much of a terror as Sherlock at his best--she even terrifies Jim when she's sick!

http://www.amazon.com/Veet-Hair-Removal-Creme-200ml/dp/B000KKNQBK/

Read the reviews. Then write a fanfic.

(Mycroft says "french phrases". I have no doubt someone could come up with some.)

Much to Sherlock and Mycroft's surprise, John is Moriarty's little brother. I mean Mycroft level of overprotective and doting older brother. Would do anything for him. Those people he 'killed'? Are happily living in another country or were "not very nice" people.

+"You are not allowed to mess with my friends Jim!"
+Jim and Mycroft have tea and talk about who's brother is better (with added flirting?)
+Sherlock gets the shovel talk from Jim

I have looked everywhere and could not find a single story where John is secretly Moriarty's brother. So please dear lovely writers, may I have it? Pretty please? <3

This is fantastic. +1

I want so badly. +1

AWWWWWWWWWW! Awkward!Sherlock is a favorite Sherlock.

Sherlock tries to go all dark Sherlock on John by kidnapping him and getting him to be all slave like to him. John just laughs (to keep from crying and yelling ) because he has way too many tricks up his sleeve to fall for that!

An idea (bonus): Sherlock is a supernatural being who is used to being high up in the chain of supernatural beings. He thinks that after getting to know John and going through cases and such John will be easily controlled . Turns out John is a much rarer creature then Sherlock or Mycroft gave him credit for . Bamf!John deflecting all magic and what not.

Another idea: Sherlock is told by the British Government he can't have John as a slave after all...his family is on the same level as Mycroft and Harry would NEVER allow it.

What is air? Oh lord.

Seconded mightily.

http://archiveofourown.org/works/2464520

This just the chapter I've already posted on here. But the next few parts will be up soon. I've already finished them. They just need to be polished up a bit. :P

Sorry for the delay. I forgot about writing this and then I couldn't find the thread again when I remembered it! D:

*cracks knuckles*

All righty, I'm going to start working on this one.

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