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Sherlock laid awake, basking in the time he had with William. In a way he was glad that William’s room was on the first floor of MI6 headquarters. It made it easier to sneak in at night. At this point, he was only living at Baker Street in name. Almost every night, he snuck into William’s room and every time he would leave through the window before the others woke. They had been keeping their relationship relatively quiet since they had returned from New York. It made Sherlock miss the freedom they had when it was just the two of them. Here they were treading on eggshells. He was pretty sure Albert and Mycroft knew about their relationship, but they had been hiding it from Louis. It was mainly for Sherlock’s safety, but it disappointed him nonetheless.
“Liam, it's time to get up if you don’t want your brothers to catch me.” Sherlock whispered, kissing his hair.
William nuzzled closer. “It's too early,” he muttered. “Stay a little longer.”
“I would love to, but you know I can’t. Besides, you have a class to teach Mr.Scott.” William groaned, pulling away.
“I love teaching but that means less time with you in the mornings.”
“Cheer up. Tomorrow is Saturday, which means I can stay a little longer. Just think⸺”
A knock interrupted him and Albert peeked his head in. “Just thought to let you know that Louis is coming to find Will in about five minutes.”
Sherlock nodded. “Thanks.”
Albert closed the door quietly. Sherlock groaned as he got up, grabbing his shirt off the floor. William watched as scars and lightly tanned skin disappeared under the white fabric. He rose from his cocoon of blankets he had encased himself in. Sherlock pressed a kiss to William’s lips. William chased the warmth as Sherlock pulled away. The ravenette looked at him with so much love it almost hurt.
“I’ll see you in a few hours.” Sherlock said, brushing William’s bangs out of his eyes.
“Stay safe.” William replied softly.
“Can’t make any promises.”
Sherlock snatched his jacket from the chair by the window before ducking out. William watched as he disappeared down the street, closing the window only when he was out of sight. He sighed heavily. Many times before, he had considered moving to Baker Street, but he couldn’t bring himself to leave his brothers. They had never been very far from each other with the exception of his three years in New York. Just like why Sherlock still “resided” at 221 B.
The library was bathed in golden light from the setting sun. The bookcase pressed uncomfortably in William’s back, but he found himself not caring. Sherlock’s chest was pressed to his. His fingers were threaded in Sherlock’s somewhat neat hair. One of Sherlock’s hands rested beside William’s head. The other was around the blonde’s waist, pulling him closer. The detective’s lips were pressed against his, tongue caressing his own. William pulled away, breathless. Sherlock moved his attention to the column of his lover’s neck, kissing and nipping at the delicate skin.
“Mm, Sherly. We have to meet the others soon.” William said, tilting his head to give Sherlock more access. Sherlock just hummed.
“We can be late for once.” Sherlock replied into William’s neck. “This is much more enjoyable.” He punctuated his point with a gentle nip to the skin beneath his lips. William’s head came to rest on his shoulder. The blonde pressed a kiss to the sensitive spot beneath his ear.
A light thump made William pull away. “What was that?”
“Don’t care. Now kiss me again before we have to go.” Sherlock demanded, bringing William’s lips to his again.
What neither of them saw was Louis coming in looking for William. Rage filled the youngest brother’s chest at the sight of Sherlock’s hands on his brother. He left the room near silently with the exception of the door closing. He couldn’t help but see red. He had given Sherlock a little leeway despite his overly familiar attitude because he had kept William from dying. But the man had gone too far now. Louis let the door to his office slam open, startling Albert who had been reading a file by the window. Albert watched as Louis stalked over to his desk, snatching a file from the top.
“What’s bothering you?” Albert asked, snapping the folder closed.
“Nothing.” Louis spat, crossing his arms and leaning on the desk.
Albert raised an eyebrow but didn’t push the issue. Louis’ gaze was locked on the door, even as the former lord moved about the room. Neither spoke. Louis periodically checked his watch, eyes flicking from the door repeatedly. He stiffened when the door opened. William and Sherlock walked in together, shoulders pressed together. What caught his attention was the dishevelled state of William’s collar on the usually proper man. The red returned to Louis’ vision. His hand drifted toward his side, where his trusted knife rested under his jacket. His anger grew like a band around his chest. Albert moved from his place by the window to stand near the fireplace.
Louis held the file out to the pair. “I need your opinion on this.” His voice was tight as he thrust the file towards the pair.
Sherlock’s hand came to rest on the small of William’s back as the other accepted the file. The band in Louis’ chest grew tighter. William leaned into the detective’s embrace. Tighter. William pointed at something on the paper. The older man hooked his chin over the other’s shoulder, leaning closer. Tighter. Sherlock turned his head so his lips were mere millimeters away from William’s ear as he spoke. Snap.
In a blur of movement, Louis pushed Sherlock away from William, coming to stand between the two. His hand rested on the handle of his blade. Shock was mirrored on both Albert and William’s face. Sherlock however, looked like he was expecting this. He attempted to move around Louis, only to find a dagger pointed at him. Louis’ eyes seemed to glow with rage.
“Come now. Surely you aren’t mad. I mean you obviously knew we were together didn’t you?” Sherlock asked, voice unusually playful for someone who had a knife pointed at him.
“Louis⸺” A sharp glare from said blonde cut off whatever William had been about to say. Albert stepped forward, bringing William close to him.
“You have had your hands on my brother long enough. It ends now.” Louis’ voice was even, but pure, unadulterated rage colored his tone.
“I mean if you want to be honest, I’ve had more than just my hands on him.” Blues danced with mirth.
“Sherlock!.” William scolded. The man in question just shrugged.
Louis moved closer, knife only inches from the detective’s face. Sherlock held his hands up in surrender. The smile dropped from his face as he realized Louis was serious. William watched tensely, ready to step in if needed. Sherlock took half a step back, but Louis didn't let him retreat.
“Run Sherlock Holmes. You have thirty seconds. I'm being generous.” Louis hissed.
Sherlock looked over at William, who had Albert’s arm clutched in a death grip. “Liam⸺”
“Twenty-eight.” Louis interjected.
Sherlock ducked under Louis, approaching William. “I’ll be right back. I promise.”
“Don’t make foolish promises.” William kissed his cheek.
Sherlock nodded before pulling away. William watched him as he strolled out of the room, appearing casual but his shoulders were tense. Louis glared at the doorway, finishing his mental countdown. When the time was up, he stalked out of the room. Feeling William begin to shake, Albert pulled him into a hug. The ex-crime lord gripped back tightly.
“What’s the matter?” Albert asked.
“I don’t want them to fight and I don’t want Sherly to get hurt.” William mumbled.
“Will, why didn’t you stop Louis? You had the chance.”
“If I stopped him, I’d hurt him. Not physically, but I’d hurt him. After all I did to keep him safe, I can’t hurt him.”
“He’s always had it out for Mr.Holmes hasn’t he?” Albert felt William nod against him.
“I just want them to get along. Sherly has no problem with Louis. Why does Louis hate him so much?”
Albert looked down at his brother. William had always been so strong. Now there was a softness to him that came from being free. Free from his mind and his fate. It was a familiar feeling, but it was more obvious in the younger with the way he leaned into any affection and how open he was. In a way it was sad. For years, William had pulled away in an effort to protect them and now it was like he was making up for lost affection.
Albert guided William over to the couch, pulling him down to rest against his side. “Do you think they’ll be okay?” William asked, his voice barely audible.
“They’re strong. They will both come back.” Albert murmured.
William nodded, eyes slipping closed. The evening light highlighted the starburst scar around his eye. Albert just sat there, listening to their combined breathing. William had stopped shaking, but Albert still held his little brother tight. It didn’t take long for the blonde’s body to go slack with sleep. Albert didn’t question it. Today had been both physically and mentally taxing so he had expected it sooner or later. Making as little noise as possible, he slipped out from William’s grasp and laid him out on the cushions. Now all that was left to do was wait.
William was still curled up on the couch, though he had shifted into a ball. Albert watched over him quietly, glass of wine in his hand. The others had all come in and out with the exception of Mycroft who took up the chair beside him. The door clicked open. Mycroft looked up as Sherlock walked in silently. The younger Holmes ignored the others in the room, walking over to William. He shucked off his jacket, laying it over the sleeping blonde. When William didn’t stir, Sherlock slumped to the floor next to him. As if sensing his presence, William’s hand drifted to Sherlock’s hair. Mycroft looked closer at his brother. He looked tired in a way that he had never seen. His clothes were disheveled and his hair had fallen out of its usual ponytail. Louis walked in, moving toward the desk. A dark bruise decorated his cheek.
“Louis.” Albert’s voice was absent of its usual warmth that it carried when he addressed his brothers. “Come here. Now please.” Louis obeyed, not meeting his brother’s gaze. Albert stood. His hand grazed the bruise on the younger’s face before coming to rest on his shoulder, grip uncomfortably tight. “Enough of this. End this foolish hate now.”
“Albert, I⸺”
“No. You think you are protecting William, but you’re hurting him. He was almost to tears after you two left.” Louis’ breath hitched. William who never cried, who was always so strong and calm. Louis almost made him cry.
“I let you do this because I didn’t want to drive a wedge between Liam and you.” Albert loosened his grip, letting Louis turn around. Sherlock pushed himself up off the floor, mindful of William’s hand. “I let this happen because I know what it’s like to drive a wedge between brothers.”
“Sherlock⸺” Mycroft started.
Sherlock just waved him off. “It’s fine Mycroft. I accepted it a long time ago.” He turned back to Louis. “I know William hasn’t told you about those three years away and I honestly don’t blame him. I won’t tell you everything, but I can say this. You didn’t see what being the Lord of Crime did to him. You didn’t pick up the pieces of the man who thought that he should have died. You didn’t see how broken he was...”
A soft whimper cut off whatever Sherlock had been about to say next. William’s face became scrunched up in pain as his head moved back and forth, caught in a cruel dream. Sherlock didn’t spare the youngest Moriarty a glance as he turned to William. The other three watched as he whispered to William, running his fingers through blonde tresses. William’s face evened out as his eyes blinked open. Blurry red met midnight blue. William sat up, leaning into Sherlock.
“I’m right here Liam. I’m not going anywhere. Do you know where you are?” Sherlock cupped his face.
William nodded. “MI6.” Blinking away the last dredges of sleep, he examined his lover’s face. “You’re hurt.”
“Don’t worry about me. It’s just a scratch ‘s all.” the detective soothed in a tone reserved only for William.
William shook his head. “I let this go too far.” He looked past Sherlock to Louis, who refused to meet his eyes. “I think it's time they learned what happened that night and after.”
“Are you sure? You don’t have to do this to prove a point.” Albert interjected, sitting on the arm of Mycroft’s chair.
“Indeed. Louis, please sit. This isn’t a short story nor a pleasant one, but it is a necessary one.” Sherlock rose to sit next to William, pulling him into his side as Louis took Albert’s chair.
“Everyone saw the ‘fight’ on the bridge. That’s common knowledge. Liam tried to convince me to just let him go, but I made a promise the day I found out his identity. I would save him, even if it killed me. When he took that final step back, I grabbed his arm. He cut my shoulder, leaving me a lovely little souvenir to match the one on my face. I lost my grip and he fell. I wasn’t going to let him go alone thinking that he couldn’t be saved, so I jumped after him. We both lost consciousness sometime after the impact. When I woke up, we were on a ship to America. Billy had pulled us out and was taking us with him to New York. I did odd detective jobs while Liam was unconscious for three months.” Sherlock paused, letting William take over.
“When I woke up, I couldn’t believe I was alive. I couldn’t believe I was saved. I was supposed to die. That was the plan, but there I was alive. Half-blind, but very much alive. I couldn’t process the fact that I had made it out. I will admit, I didn’t think I deserved to continue living. I wanted to die. But Sherly was there. He held me and told me I was worth living. He gave me hope that I could redeem myself and that someday I could come home.” William stared at the fireplace, lost in the past.
“It was slow going. Every day I made sure I told him that he was more than just the Lord of Crime. That he was a brilliant man that the world would be lost without. There were some bad days where he couldn’t get out of bed, but he was making progress. Until he… relapsed about a year later. A case I was working on hit a little too close to home. Some rich man had gone on a killing spree. Killed 13 people, working folk and rich alike. I came home to find Liam curled up on the floor, crying. Letters were written on the table. One was to me. The others were to all of you. Apologies. A pocket knife was on his bed, but it was clean thankfully. He hadn’t gotten to that yet. He had stopped after the letters.” William squeezed Sherlock’s hand, playing with the skull ring that decorated his finger. Sherlock gave a single squeeze in return. “After I got him calmed down and all cleaned up, I burnt the letters. Every knife in the house was hidden until I was sure he wasn’t going to relapse again. Now days like that are few and far between, but they still happen sometimes. That day was the worst though.”
“Eventually, I was sound enough that I was able to help Sherlock with some of his cases. However, I mostly stayed home and tended to the chores to pass the time. When Billy gave us a chance to transfer here, it was an admittedly difficult decision. For me at least. Stay in New York and leave my old identity behind, but leave behind the people I cared about here, or come back and face the world that I had so desperately tried to leave behind. Between Sherlock and I, we decided to test the waters. The transfer from the justice department was temporary at first until we decided if we wanted to stay. The paperwork was approved a month ago for permanence.” The room went quiet. The kind of quiet where no one knows what to say because everything is just too heavy. The kind of quiet where the strongest, calmest person has shown them the worst part of themselves. “If I’m being honest, Sherlock is the reason that I still draw breath. Without him I would have inevitably fallen to my death or done something worse. That’s why it hurts to see you fight him so.”
“Liam…” Sherlock used their joined hands to brush William’s cheek.
“It’s true. You gave me a new reason and I’m better for it. You taught me how to live just for the sake of it. Not because of a goal, but because I want to see the next day. It may be selfish of me, but I won’t let anyone take that from me.”
William scanned the room, taking in everyone’s reactions. Mycroft’s usual passive mask had been replaced by a look of sorrow and regret. Albert looked torn between comforting William and tucking himself away. Louis on the other hand, William couldn’t see. The youngest Moriarty had his face buried in his hand, elbows resting on his knees. Sherlock, sensing his lover’s distress, leaned over to whisper in his ear. The other three in the room couldn’t hear what he said, but William just nodded and released Sherlock’s hand. The detective walked over to the younger blonde. Wrapping a hand around his arm, he pulled him out of the chair.
“Come on. It’s time we talked.” Sherlock said, dragging a subdued Louis out of the room. Hearing the door close behind them, Sherlock flung Louis forward so he was trapped between the wall and Sherlock. “I’m only gonna say this once so listen well Louis Moriarty or should I say ‘M’. Whatever your issue with me is, it needs to stop and stop now. I have absolutely no issue with you. Liam and I didn’t tell you what happened to elicit pity. We told you so you would understand why we’re so close. Whether you like it or not, Liam and I belong to each other. This…” Sherlock gestured between the two of them. “Is hurting him.”
“I just wanted to protect him.” Louis whispered. “He was always so grounded and steady, but forgot to take care of himself. I was always the one to take care of him, even when he was protecting me. Then you came along. You were a bright new challenge for him to face. Everything changed. The minute you were mentioned, he would perk up. Every time we saw you, you were all he would talk about. Only one other time was he so absorbed with one person, and it almost got him killed. I just wanted to keep him from being hurt again.” Louis stared past Sherlock’s head, not looking at him. Sherlock could see his eyes growing cloudy with tears.
“I’m going to give you a piece of advice that I was given a long time ago. Love can be a noose if you hold it too tightly. The line between love and smothering is fine and you’ve been treading it a little too closely. Liam knows what is best for him. I just try to keep him alive and well long enough to see it. He’s one of the few people I care about and I will protect him from those who want to do him harm. Whether that be himself, an enemy, or his brothers.” With that Sherlock went back inside the room.
Albert had abandoned his perch on the arm of the chair to sit next to William. Said blonde had a white-knuckle grip on his brother’s hand. Albert’s face twisted in slight discomfort, but otherwise showed no reaction. Mycroft approached him, examining him for any further injury. Sherlock waved him away. He moved to kneel in front of William. He stared into warm crimson, one bright and one hazy.
“Your brother needs you. He needs to hear it from you.”
“Is he okay?” William’s voice was soft as he released Albert’s hand.
“He will be. Right now he needs you. I’ve done my part. Now it’s up to him.”
William hummed, rising from the couch. He could feel the others watching him as he stepped into the hall. Louis was sitting on the floor, knees pulled up to his chest with his face buried. William sat opposite of him and placed a hand on his knee. Louis jumped almost imperceptibly. William was met with watery red eyes as Louis looked up. The older held his arms open for a hug. Louis hesitated for just a second before throwing himself into his brother’s embrace.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” Louis repeated it like a mantra.
William just stroked his hair as he held him. “I know.”
“I just wanted to keep you from getting hurt.” the younger said, voice muffled.
“I know.” William replied.
“You fell so fast and then I lost you. I didn’t want to lose you again.”
“I’m not leaving again. I’m here to stay. Even though I’m with Sherlock, you won’t lose me. You’ll always be my brother. That will never change.”
William just held him as he cried. After a few minutes, Louis sat up and wiped his eyes. “I’m sorry Will. I’m a fool.”
“I won’t hear you talk about yourself like that. You are no fool, little brother. But as much as I appreciate the apology, I’m not the one who needs to hear it.” Louis nodded.
He rose before extending a hand to William. William guided him back into the office. Puffy eyes and all, Louis walked over to Sherlock. Mycroft and Albert watched with apprehension. Louis stuck a hand out towards Sherlock.
“I apologize Mr. Holmes. My behavior was awful. I know you may not forgive me and that is no one’s fault but my own. You were right. Thank you for knocking some sense into me.”
A flash of shock crossed Sherlock’s face as he took Louis' hand. A serene look took over his expression. “I’m glad you were able to realize it before you did any real damage.”
“As am I.” He let go of Sherlock’s hand and moved over to his desk. “Though in the future, I would appreciate if you two would keep your makeout sessions in your private rooms. And yes Mr. Holmes, you have a room here. I just didn’t tell you.”
William spluttered as Sherlock let out a sharp bark of laughter. Mycroft groaned and buried his head in his hands, lamenting about how he didn’t need to know about that. Albert just patted his shoulder in mock sympathy.
“Wait. I have a room here?” Sherlock asked.
“You did transfer to MI6. Everyone has a room here. I just didn’t tell you because I assumed you would stay at Baker Street.” Louis replied, not looking.
“Well Liam, looks like I won’t have to sneak out of your room every morning anymore.” Sherlock said, nudging his lover. William swatted his shoulder with a smile.
Albert shook his head at the two. He looked over at Louis. The youngest Moriarty just rolled his eyes, but made no comment. Yeah, we’ll be fine, Albert thought. He let himself be pulled onto Mycroft’s lap, content that his brothers were happy. Things would probably be tense between Louis and Sherlock for a while, but they had one common goal: make William happy. Differences aside, they would make sure that he was safe and sound.