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"Sherlock."
"What do you want Mycroft?"
"Can I come to see you?"
"You never ask, what's going on?"
"Please Sherlock, this is important."
"If you are trying to trick me into taking Mummy and Daddy to the theatre.."
"Please, just don't run off until I get there."
---
Mycroft walks in wearily. Sherlock looks up and narrows his eyes, taking in his dishevelled appearance. Instead of his normal suit Mycroft is wearing a simple red shirt and dark cream chinos. The fabric is dirty and there are buttons missing from his shirt.
"What happened to you?"
Mycroft sits heavily on the sofa. "Nothing to concern yourself with."
"You are purposely hiding things from me, you smoked to cover any scents even though you gave up months ago, you adjusted your clothing before entering to disguise any signs from the way they are hanging and you stood in the puddle outside the flat before entering to remove particles from your shoes. Also your hair is unstyled, you ran your fingers through it to mess it up just before entering the flat, you would not come here like that out of choice which indicates that it had already been messed up, but you are concealing from me the method by which it was initially disrupted."
"Drop it, please." Mycroft says sitting stiffly.
"Either someone has attacked you, or you have been drinking or taken drugs. You are trembling slightly, but that could be attributed to either. Other than that you are so good at concealing yourself from me that I must admit I can't tell without seeing you walk or talk to me more."
"Hmm." Mycroft replies, unwilling to give himself away by speaking.
"Why would you come to me though. If you were attacked you would go to your lackeys and have them take care of the miscreants and any medical concerns. If you were drunk or on drugs you would go home and lick your wounds, or maybe call Anthea to take care of any necessary rescheduling. Why would you come to me?"
Mycroft looks at him with pleading eyes. He did not want to reveal this, he just wanted a few minutes in his brother's presence to take whatever small measure of comfort he could from that, before leaving to deal with the situation.
"Something you are ashamed of, even of telling Anthea who's loyalty to you is absolute. Something serious enough to need my help, but you don't want to tell me. Somehow just being in my presence is enough to help you." Sherlock stares at his brother pondering the issue.
"I was sexually assaulted." Mycroft whispers, giving up hope of hiding this any longer, and also giving up pretending to himself that he could cope with this without help.
Sherlock startles, he had not really expected his brother to tell him what the problem was. "Well, what do you expect me to do about it?" He says harshly, the shock putting him on the defensive without really thinking.
Mycroft shakes his head sadly. "Nothing, I'll leave." He stands and walks towards the door, but is halted by being engulfed in a hug from his little brother. Long arms wrapped around him as Sherlock pulls him to his chest, Mycroft's chin resting on Sherlock's shoulder as the detective places a hand on the back of his head to hold him close. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean that." Sherlock murmurs into his ear.
Mycroft feels tears prickle his eyes, but he is determined not to shed them, he is stronger than that, he will not give in to sentiment.
"Who did this? I will catch them for you."
"There is no need." Mycroft counters quickly.
"Don't worry, I don't mean to drag you through court. I will kill them and get rid of their bodies, no one will ever know."
"I said there is no need. I just want to forget. Please."
Sherlock takes Mycroft's arm and leads him back to the sofa. They sit side by side stiffly until Sherlock puts his arm around Mycroft and pulls him so that his brother tips and leans on him.
"Do you want to talk about it?"
"No!"
The brothers sit silently without moving for an hour, Mycroft's eyes wet with tears that he refuses to shed. Then the door to the flat opens.
"I got Indian. I hope that's ok." John calls out as he enters, arms full of takeaway, shopping bags and his medical kit, he is concentrating on getting through the door without dropping anything so doesn't see the brothers until he is halfway into the room. The shock of seeing the Holmes boys together with Sherlock's arm around his brother is so extreme that he drops everything on the floor.
"John, you are spilling our dinner on the floor." says Sherlock haughtily.
John looks down and sees that one of the takeaway containers has split and korma sauce is leaking out onto the floorboards.
"I suggest that you clean it up." Sherlock continues.
"Yes, yes, I'll get right to it." John says weakly. The brothers still have not moved. He collects up the bags and takes them to the kitchen, fetches a cloth and cleans the floor.
As he is cleaning Sherlock says "Three plates please John." John stares at him in astonishment.
"Mycroft is staying?"
"Obviously. I hope you have cake in those bags."
"No I don't. What's happening you two, has something happened to your parents?"
"It is nothing like that Doctor Watson. Please, have your meal, do not let your dinner get cold on my account." Mycroft says without moving from his position leaning against Sherlock.
John splits the takeaway three ways onto plates and takes them through, setting one in front of each brother. He sits in his armchair and has almost finished his meal, studying the two men carefully as he chews, before the brothers pull apart and sit up to begin eating. They both pick at the food on their plates before pushing them aside and returning to their awkward embrace.
When John has set his empty plate on the table he hears Mycroft say quietly "Doctor Watson, I would appreciate a word with you in private. I may be in need of medical assistance."
Sherlock gulps and turns to look at his brother "I did not realise that it was that serious."
Mycroft avoids his brother's eyes and answers "I.. Yes, it was.. unpleasant. There may be.. damage."
John beginning to suspect the problem says "Where would you be most comfortable? Sherlock's room? Do you want your brother to accompany you?"
Mycroft stands and walks stiffly towards the bedroom "Sherlock's room, if you don't mind brother." Sherlock nods minutely, his expression carefully neutral but John can see pain underneath. "I will be quite alright on my own."
John follows Mycroft, they enter the bedroom and John stands in the doorway "Open or closed?" He asks.
"Open please." Mycroft says in his normal commanding tone.
John sits on the bed and indicates for Mycroft to take the wooden desk chair, he notices that pain flashes over the face of the older man when he sits on the hard seat.
"Mycroft, you need me to examine you?"
Mycroft nods.
"Have you been assaulted?"
Another nod.
"Sexually?"
A nod accompanied by furious blinking as Mycroft attempts to stop tears from falling.
"Was it penetrative?"
Mycroft closes his eyes and his face screws up a little as he nods again.
"Ok. Do you know if they used condoms?"
Mycroft shakes his head and then realising that this is not a proper answer says quietly "They did not. I would very much like a shower."
John grimaces and says "I know, it's awful Mycroft, but I really should get an evidence kit so that we can collect samples for a conviction."
"There is no need. There is not going to be a court case." Mycroft replies, trying to keep his tone calm.
"What if they do it to someone else?" John asks gently.
"That will not be a problem."
Sighing but not wanting to push anymore John says "Ok, I will examine you, but you will have to be tested in a few weeks for STDs, and a follow up test in a few months to make sure you are clear. I will prescribe you a course of HIV PEP to reduce the risk of HIV infection." A few tears fall from Mycroft's eyes now as he realises that this ordeal is not something he can just put completely out of his mind after tonight.
"I'm just going to get some gloves, while I'm gone could you remove your trousers and underwear and get comfortable on the bed. You can lie on your back and you can use.." Looking around John spots a blanket hanging off of the end of the bed "this blanket to cover yourself."
John leaves the room and goes to the lounge where he had left his medical kit. He sees Sherlock still sitting on the sofa.
"Is he ok?" Sherlock asks.
"I haven't checked yet, I need my gloves." John says, unwilling to go into any further details, they may be brother's but right now Mycroft is his patient and he takes patient confidentiality very seriously.
"Look after him." Sherlock pleads.
"I will." John replies, smiling tightly to reassure his friend. He gets his bags and returns to Mycroft.
Once back in the bedroom John can see that Mycroft has followed his instructions and is lying on the bed. However he can also see that the man's shoulders are shaking and John can hear him sobbing quietly, he cannot see his face as he has turned his head away.
"Mycroft, it's ok. I'll be as quick as I can."
Mycroft nods, but when John lifts the blanket to begin his examination Mycroft cries out and tenses all of his muscles. John drops the blanket back down, covering the man and asks him "Are you sure you don't want Sherlock here? He doesn't have to see anything, he can just be here for you. Would you feel safer?"
"I do know that you won't assault me Doctor Watson." Mycroft says, his voice rough and tense.
"I know that. I'm not going to take offence. At a time like this you deserve anything that we can do to help you feel safe, I really think it would help."
Mycroft still has his head turned away from John so he can't see his expression, but he can see the moment when Mycroft sets his shoulders making a decision. "Please ask him to come in." Mycroft murmurs.
John sticks his head out of the door and calls Sherlock, who swiftly comes into the room. Seeing his brother on the bed ready for his examine Sherlock swallows a lump in his throat and asks "What do you need?"
John answers "Could you go to the other side of the bed so that Mycroft can see you. I need to examine him now and he will feel more comfortable if you are here."
Sherlock nods and does as he was asked. He kneels on the floor near to his brother's head. Mycroft cannot meet his eyes but reaches out a trembling hand and Sherlock takes it, holding firmly to reassure his brother that he is still there.
John lifts the blanket, holding it up with one arm as a shield so that Sherlock cannot see his brother's lower body, and examines Mycroft's genitals and the surrounding area. A visual inspection shows there is significant bruising around his hips and thighs, along with a few scratch marks, he must have been in pain from these alone and John is amazed at how well he has been covering it up. He cleans the scratches with alcohol wipes drawing hisses of pain from Mycroft, but none if them are deep enough to require further treatment. His penis and scrotum appear uninjured, Mycroft gasps and tenses his muscles as John gently touches the sensitive flesh in order to examine the hidden parts of his genitals. "Sorry." He murmurs, hearing Sherlock simultaneously whisper to his brother "It's just John, you can trust him Mycroft."
Once he has finished this portion of the examination John knows that it is time to move on to the more difficult part. He covers Mycroft again and says "Please turn into your side, facing Sherlock. Pull your knees up towards your chest."
Mycroft is quick to comply with his request and John notes that as soon as he is on his side the brothers clasp hands with all four hands entangled, knuckles white with the tightness of their grip. Mycroft's eyes are shut tight, but Sherlock is studying his brother's face fiercely.
John is just about to lift the blanket when he hears Sherlock whisper "You killed them didn't you? How many?"
Mycroft whispers back through his tears "Yes. Four of them."
John decides to ignore this private conversation and instead says "Just one more part of the exam to go. Try to relax." He lifts the blanket, exposing Mycroft's rear end, but does not worry about holding it up this time as Sherlock could not see anything from his position even if he looked. He parts Mycroft's buttocks and examines his anus. Mycroft tenses under his touch and John can hear the man beginning to sob again. John can see that there is bruising and some abrasions and a small tear that is probably incredibly painful, but the damage should heal without further intervention, John will have to give the man some advice on caring for his wound, but that is a conversation for later. Sighing with relief that Mycroft will not have to undergo the further humiliation of stiches or even surgery John covers him back up and says "All done. There doesn't seem to be any serious damage. If you want a shower you can go ahead, there's a towel in the cupboard in there you can use. We'll find you something to wear. Come on Sherlock, let's give him some privacy. Unless of course you want Sherlock to stay?" John says questioningly.
"I'll be fine. Thank you for your help Doctor Watson." Mycroft says politely rolling onto his back and releasing Sherlock's hands.
The two men leave the bedroom, Sherlock walking stiffly his expression guarded. As they go into the lounge Sherlock hears his phone beep on the mantle, checking it he sees four messages from Lestrade. Reading them quickly he says "Four men found dead in an alley, necks snapped, signs of sexual activity." Tears prickle in his eyes in sadness for Mycroft and anger at the men who had abused him.
John nods "Ahh, what do we do?"
"We are going to have to tell Anthea, she can get the case taken away from the police and then buried. As soon as Mycroft is out of the shower I will talk to him."
20 minutes later the shower is still running, Sherlock is pacing and John is sitting tensely in his armchair trying (and failing) to read his book. Sherlock says "We can't wait any more, we have to stop this investigation before they start analysing samples or looking at CCTV, I'll have to ask him while he's in the shower." He is just about to knock on the bathroom door when Sherlock's phone rings, seeing it is Lestrade he answers immediately.
"Sherlock. That crime scene I asked you to come to. I just looked at CCTV footage, have you spoken to your brother tonight?"
"Why?" Sherlock says guardedly.
"I've shut it down. Sent everyone away apart from a few uniforms guarding the scene. I told them I've had orders from on high. I was the only one who saw the footage. Your brother went into the alley with the men, he didn't look too happy about it, then half an hour later he comes out and they are all left in there with broken necks. What's going on?"
Sherlock smiles "Thank you Greg. Someone will be there soon to take over. Mycroft is here, he, he's fine."
"You're welcome mate. Um, has he told you what happened because, well, I'm a bit worried that he might have been, well, assaulted."
"I would appreciate you keeping that information to yourself. I have to go and make arrangements. Goodbye Greg." Sherlock says hanging up.
Sherlock knocks gently on the bathroom door and calls "Mycroft. Are you done?"
The shower shuts off and there are sounds of movement. A few moments later Mycroft calls in reply "Do you have any clothes I can wear? I would like to dispose of the ones I was wearing before."
Sherlock takes a pile of clothes to the door. There are some of his pants and socks and a t-shirt and casual trousers that he had worn before as a disguise. They are likely to be a little small for Mycroft, but it will do for now. Knocking lightly Sherlock passes them through to Mycroft, who emerges a few minutes later looking uncomfortable in the unfamiliar casual clothes.
"Lestrade called me. They have found the bodies."
Mycroft slumps into Sherlock's chair and puts his head in his hands.
"Let me call Anthea. She can sort all of this out for you, can't she?"
Mycroft nods briefly, then sits perfectly still in the chair, trying his best to just disappear.
Sherlock goes into his bedroom to call Anthea, and John goes to the kitchen to make some tea leaving Mycroft on his own in the lounge. The sound of the flat door opening startles him and he looks up with fear in his eyes.
Greg walks into the flat holding Mycroft's umbrella, he gives a small smile when he sees the man sitting in the armchair. Holding the umbrella out he says
"I found this on the street next to the alley. It is yours isn't it?"
Mycroft nods, but flinches when Lestrade moves towards him to give it to him. Greg stops and awkwardly puts the umbrella down instead, leaning it against the wall.
"Four of them, I'm impressed." He says.
"I have had some training." Mycroft replies quietly, feeling a slight swell of pride inside at the compliment.
Greg nods. "Yeah. I could tell."
"They caught me by surprise, when they.. accosted me they had me in a hold that I could not break."
Greg nods and smiles encouragingly. He has spoken to enough victims to know that sometimes the dam breaks and they just want to talk, best to let them get it out. The thought of that happening to Mycroft is painful though, he has known the man for the best part of a decade and has never seen him with so much as a hair out of place, let alone looking so broken.
"I couldn't escape, and then I was so... shocked at what they were doing that I admit I may have missed some opportunities to get free."
"Understandable. That's not your fault." Greg says gently.
John is standing in the doorway, he had been going to bring the tea in when he saw Greg talking to Mycroft. It seems to be going well so he doesn't want to intrude. He goes back into the kitchen to wait.
"It was only when they had finished that they released me. I may have overreacted, after all they were letting me go at that point."
"As a police officer I should be saying that, yes you did overreact, you should have left and let us arrest them. But really, they deserved it, scum like that."
Mycroft looks up at him surprised, then dips his eyes back down to his lap.
"Gregory, they raped me, all four of them." He says with a tremor.
"I know mate. It's ok now." Greg says slowly walking over to Mycroft and patting his shoulder.
"I can see why Sherlock found you so helpful when he was trying to get clean. You are very reassuring Gregory."
Mycroft thinks of how in the past he had trusted Lestrade to look after his baby brother when he was at his most vulnerable, he would never have allowed Sherlock to stay at the DI's house overnight when he was high if there was even the slightest doubt about the man's honourable character.
"I try." Greg says with a small smile. He carefully perches on the arm of the chair, watching Mycroft for signs of distress, he is surprised when Mycroft leans to the side resting his head on Greg's thigh. Greg rests his hand on Mycroft's head. "You're safe now." He whispers.
"It was my fault." He hears Mycroft whisper. "I sent my surveillance away so that I could have an evening out. I should have just stayed at work, I will not make that mistake again."
"Hush. Everyone needs a night off. Maybe not in that neighbourhood next time though."
Mycroft nods against his knee and mumbles "I wanted to go where no-one would recognise me. There is a bar nearby, I had hoped to.." He trails off with a strangled sound in his throat.
Greg chuckles "You took your umbrella with you on the pull?"
Mycroft feels his lips twitch a little in amusement at the gentle teasing and gives an answering chuckle "I am somewhat out of practice. I find carrying it rather comforting."
Greg smiles and urges Mycroft to sit up. He fetches the umbrella and gives it to Mycroft then returns to sitting on the arm of the chair. Mycroft leans again and places his head on Greg's leg whilst gripping his umbrella firmly in both hands. Greg feels wetness against his thigh as Mycroft cries silent tears, he runs his fingers through Mycroft's damp hair, trying to ground the man and reassure him that he is safe.
John has spent his time in the kitchen drinking his tea, he then tips away the other two mugs which are by now cold. Hearing the voices in the other room go quiet he makes four fresh mugs and takes then out on a tray, along with a plate of biscuits. Glancing at the clock he notices that it has now gone midnight. He sets the tray down and sits in his chair, Greg looks at him and smiles ruefully, Mycroft's eyes remain unseeing staring across the room.
Sherlock bursts out of his room "It's all sorted..." He begins before stopping suddenly when he sees Greg touching his brother. He stiffens and draws himself up to his full height his instinct to protect his brother making him want to push Greg away from him, but then he notices the way that Mycroft seems to be relaxing into Greg's touch, his eyes beginning to droop, Sherlock instead sits on the sofa and gives a stiff nod to Lestrade. "Anthea is arranging everything, and rearranging all of your meetings for the week Mycroft. It will be fine." He says, before lapsing into silence.
Mycroft drifts into a sleep feeling secure, as the three men, who he had never expected to care for him, watch over him as if to stand guard against the outside world.