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Part 1 of Thoughts on The Six Thatchers
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Published:
2017-01-02
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2017-01-10
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7/?
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Mycroft is a Rubbish Big Brother

Summary:

Still recovering from TST...please excuse me as I rebuild the Johnlock rooms in my Mind Palace that crumbled last night.

A thought occurred to me after the first episode; Mycroft and Mary are only seen together in a couple of scenes, but we know that Myc, being Myc, must have kidnapped her at least a couple of times. You might see these bits as possible missing scenes. Or my attempt to reboot the fluffy part of my brain.

Not a lot of spoilers planned, but tagged, just in case.

Chapter 1: February, 2010

Chapter Text

February 2010

 

"Damn."

Anthea looked up from her phone at the muttered expletive. Her boss rarely swore and when he did, it was usually in reference to his brother.

Mycroft shook his head. "Just saw someone I thought I'd never see again. I hope I'm wrong, but, pull over, Reg."

"Sir."

Mycroft grabbed his umbrella and stepped out on to the curb. He slammed the door and began walking, slowing as he passed a well-dressed, but not too well-dressed woman. To the unobservant, she may have seemed quite nondescript; perhaps a school teacher, or a nurse, but to Mycroft, she carried herself in a manner that put him on edge.

"Rosamund?"

"Excuse me?" She almost tripped on a rise in the sidewalk and blinked once, but recovered well. "A lovely old-fashioned name, but not mine, I'm afraid." She met his eyes and he sighed. A ghost, unfortunately very much alive.

"May I drop you somewhere, Ms. -"

"Morstan. Mary Morstan. How very kind, Mr. -"

"Holmes. Mycroft Holmes at your service, Ms. Morstan." He nodded his head in grudging respect as she took his offered arm.

"Mr. Holmes." They walked together in silence towards the sedan; the silence of enemies at peace for the time being.

 

Looking back later, Mycroft wondered on more than one occasion, how much pain could have been avoided if he had simply let her walk past him that day.

Chapter 2: February 2010 part 2

Chapter Text

"I understand there was trouble -" Mycroft looked her over and saw the nearly invisible tells; a slight tremor in her dominant hand, tight worry lines around her bright red mouth, a sign of a nervous cigarette or two, he knew she had quit years before, and her rushed dye job, from red to blonde.

"It's a wig, Myc, I didn't have the time for even a half-arsed job. Yeah, you could say there was a bit of trouble. I'm all that's left. Someone ratted us out."

Mycroft almost grinned, he had always found the remnants of her American childhood charming, but he cleared his throat and drawled, neutral as always, "I am sorry. Your plans?"

"Plans. Jesus, Myc, you do cut right to the chase. You haven't changed a bit. Actually, was thinking of going straight, you know, settling down, get a nice job, maybe get recertified as a nurse, and find a nice London doc and have a couple of brats to cherish. But, who knows? I'm assuming you wanted to chat about our mutual friend? How is he, by the way?"

"He's fine. I hear he's fine."

"Good to hear. Look, give me a chance Myc. You know I'm good at keeping secrets, just keep your brother off my back and you don't have anything to worry about. Right?"

Mycroft studied her exhausted but earnest face. She was one of the few people that he wasn't ever quite sure of. She carried off her identities as easily as breathing. She and Sherlock would probably hit it off, if they ever met; they both delighted in the absurdities of human nature. He realised then that he had to do everything in his power to make sure that never happened.

"Give me some time to consider the variables, Ms. Morstan, was it?"

"Appreciate the lift, Myc. Be seeing ya." She opened the door, and stepped out as if she were about to be photographed on the red carpet. Mycroft supposed she had disposed of a few A-listers in her day and shuddered internally. He nodded as she winked at him before turning and disappearing into the early evening London commute.

Chapter 3: August 2014

Summary:

Skipping around in time, just because, and going with August for when Mary shoots Sherlock, again, just because.

Chapter Text

August 2014

 

"Mary."

Mycroft removed his mask and bent closer to his brother, hoping he misheard.

"Sherlock?"

"Myc? It was Mary. Don't tell him." Sherlock closed his eyes again as the drugs took him under.

"Damn." Mycroft banged through the doors of the surgery, tore off his scrubs and hurled them at the nurse who was standing by. Anthea raised one well-sculpted eyebrow at his outburst of emotion.

"Bad news?"

"Get me Mary Watson, now."

"Sir."

 

"I had no choice." Mary whispered into the styrofoam cup, swearing at the tremor in her hands. "He wasn't supposed to be there."

"You killed my brother, Mary. For one minute and twelve seconds, my brother was dead, and I am responsible for it. I allowed this to happen. I knew better. If you had asked him to help you, he would have gone through hell for you, you know that. You are John Watson's wife, and he -"

"I know, Myc, I'm the closest thing he has to family, family he actually tolerates, that is, and - I thought if I could just eliminate CAM, then -"

"You know he would have worked until he discovered it was you."

"He would never have known it was me, I never leave a trace, you know that."

Mycroft sighed and nodded.

"I missed. You know I missed, if I had wanted him dead -"

"He'd be on a slab in the morgue, instead of hooked up to those infernal beeping machines."

"John can't know. He can't. He thinks -"

"He thinks you hung the moon, Mary. Sherlock, he will forgive you far easier, once he works it out, if he can see the logic in it, he can forgive a lot."

Mary narrowed her eyes at him. "And yet, you've never told him about -"

"No. There will come a day when he discovers it for himself, and I dread the day when that happens, but he will never hear it from me."

"Coward." Mary smirked and took a sip of her lukewarm coffee.

"Aren't we all, Mary?"

She looked down at her phone as it pinged and shrugged.

 

Sherlock's been shot. - JW

Damn. Where is he? - MW

Bart's. I need you. - JW

Be there ASAP. - MW

 

"I'm sorry, Myc, truly, I am, I really do like Sherlock, it was nothing personal. You know that."

"Go. Get out. You do understand that if you had permanently killed him -"

"I'd be next to him in the morgue already. I know. Nice to know the Iceman has a heart after all."

Chapter 4: March 2010

Summary:

The pool...

Chapter Text

Mary looked down from her position, overlooking the pool, wondering why Jim needed so many guns, but he never asked her opinion, and she never offered any. She had tried to go straight, she had, but somehow he had found her. He knew everything, every alias, each kill, everything. When he called, she answered and did what she did best. He paid top dollar, he knew she deserved it. Bloody hell, no. Why?

Sherlock entered the pool area. A bit nervously, she mused, for someone usually so arrogant. He must've chosen the meeting place, Jim would never select such a place...she looked down into the eyepiece as someone else entered and could see the fear and confusion written so clearly on Sherlock's face.

"Evening..."

God, it's John. Sherlock thinks he's Jim. No sweetie, that's not Jim. There, now you see...oh. You're in love with him. Interesting...a Holmes boy in love? Oh, Myc. You couldn't quite make your little brother into your own image, could you? He's terrified. His hand is shaking, he's realising he could lose the only friend he's ever had, and it will be his fault. You didn't call Lestrade or Myc, you thought you could handle Jimbo on your own. Ah, you have so much to learn, Sherl - oh, God. John loves you too, he's just afraid. Damn. Myc, you bastard. You knew how this would end, it could only end badly...

"Ah...the missile plans..."

No, John, no, don't, please damn...

"Do you know what happens...to you?...I'll burn the heart out of you..."

"I've been reliably informed I don't have one."

That's not quite true, Sherlock. I've seen it, John has seen it. Just back off, back off, solve your little murders, play house with John, but leave Jim to your brother. You're clever, but you care too much about collateral damage, too much heart in you. John is your weakness and your greatest strength, but you don't know that yet. Damn it. Please Jim. Don't make me.

"Mind if I get that...hello...of course it is...say that again...oi...sorry, wrong day to die...."

Saved by the bell. How many lives do we all have, I wonder?

Chapter 5: March 2010 part 2

Chapter Text

Mary had nearly made it home. She was shivering a bit from her plunge into the pool, and the March winds had picked up suddenly, but she tightened her fingers around the flash drive. Retrieving it seemed like penance somehow; perhaps she could exchange it, even in its ruined state for a bit of forgiveness. Forgiveness? She had truly lost her edge, she had lost it and everything else in Tblisi; she should have died with them, with the only family she had ever known.

 

Get into the car, Ms. Morstan.

 

She rolled her eyes skyward, then nodded to herself. Time to get out of the game.

"Don't you Holmes boys ever sleep?" She muttered, closing her eyes as she leaned back into the soft upholstery.

"Not as a rule, Ms. Morstan. You have something that belongs to me, I believe?"

"Mmhmm, but first, I'm curious, Myc -"

"We all know what curiosity did to the cat, Ms. Morstan."

"Indeed, but I figure I've already used up all nine of my lives, so what the hell."

The merest sliver of a grin. "Ask away, then."

"Why did you set Sherlock up? The game, with Jim. You really care so little for him?"

"He was bored, dangerously so. He needed a distraction, and I wanted to see just how far he would go, before he self-destructed; and we needed to be able to identify 'Jim'. You see, we knew of his existence long ago..."

"Carl Powers?"

Mycroft raised an eyebrow, but continued. "His file, let us say, is extensive, but since he rarely 'gets his hands dirty,' we had no good intel on him, personally, and now -"

"You had cameras and audio at the pool." She shakes her head at him. "Of course you did, just how long were you going to wait before you stepped in? Wait. You. That was you on the phone."

"No, for once the universe worked in my brother's favour, it happens so rarely, he was due."

Mary felt a shiver go through her. "I was supposed to take him out. If the bomb failed, or he pulled the trigger - and he realised tonight that he's in love."

"What?" Mycroft's head spun towards her.

"Mmm. Surprised you didn't know, but then again, I'm not entirely shocked that you didn't see it happening over the last couple of months."

"Dr. Watson."

"Quite so. Here. Take it. Your 'missile plans.' What was on it, really? You're not that stupid."

"Sherlock's rather tedious treatise on tobacco ash, he's up to two hundred and thirty-seven at this point."

"I was wrong about you, Myc, you do have a sense of humour. You can drop me at home, Reg."

"Yes, Ms. Morstan."

Chapter 6: Bart's: 2012

Chapter Text

"As long as I'm alive you can save your friends..."

NO! Jim. Fuck. Go to hell, Sherlock. You better fucking jump, or I swear, I will put a bullet in that genius brain of yours. Jim's dead, he won't know and you'll still be dead.

 

"No one could be that clever."

"You could..."

 

Damn. What the hell is he doing here?

 

"Good-bye, John."

 

Tears, real fucking tears...riiighhht...He did it. He actually jumped. Hmmm. Guess I was right about him. A Holmes with a heart. Oh, John. "All right, boys, pack it up. See you 'round."

 

"Ms. Morstan. I need a favour."

"I'm listening."

"John Watson, I need you to keep him alive."

"Sherlock's not dead."

"I'm not confirming or denying."

"This will cost you."

"This is your chance at a normal life."

"When?"

"Two years. But right now, your job is to keep John Watson alive, without him knowing you are doing it."

"Deal."

"Thank you."

"No, thank you, Myc."

Chapter 7: May 2014

Chapter Text

Mary smiled as the boys both gave her a thumbs up, before they finally blew out the door. It amazed her that she had been to get away with it for so long-

 

Rather overdue for a chat, don't you think?

Be down in five minutes.

 

"Was wondering when you'd show up and pull the rug out -"

"He's fond of you."

"John? I should hope so."

"No, my brother. John loves you, as much as he can love someone, he loves you."

"So?"

"My brother loves John, John loves you, so, you are untouchable, as far as I am concerned. Consider my absence from the 'night do' my wedding present to you."

"Seriously?"

"Welcome to the family, Ms. Morstan."

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