Two Years Gone

Questioning

*Mycroft POV*

"Sir, we have him in here."

I look up from my work, realizing Sebastion Moran must be the person in question.

"And he is unharmed?"

"Mostly."

I walk into the hilding cell, grimacing when I see just who it is we have captured. My attendant leaves the room, shutting the door behind her.

"How did you find them?"

"Them? No one cares about finding the whore, it was your brother we found."

I slap him hard, barely receiving a response of any sort.

"Who is your employer?"

"Youre going to have to try a lot harder than that to get me to tell you anything of importance."

The door opens again, John stumbling in. He's obviously drunk, the smell of alcohol filling the room as soon as he closes the door.

"You fucking arse!"

He lunges across the table at Moran, narrowly avoiding his face and and instead hitting him in the throat. Moran just smiles, only minor discomfort felt.

"John! Get off of him!"

John tackles him, pinning him to the ground effortlessly.

"John!"

Moran sits up, flipping around so John is pinned to the wall. Greg runs in a few seconds later, out of breath and panicked.

"S...sorry. He...managed to...get past us."

"Its alright. Can you get him out please?"

Greg nods, walking over and pulling John to his feet.

"Come on John, lets get you out of here."

I mouth a quick 'thank you' to Greg before he leaves. After an hour of silence from Moran, I decide to leave for the day. Greg is waiting for me out in the lounge, a disheveled John staring at the wall beside him.

"Hey."

"How did it go?"

"Nothing today. I'm sure we can manage something though, give it a few days and hell be ready to tell me everything I need."

"That's good. Yeah."

"How's John?"

"Hasnt moved since he shattered that."

Greg points at a rubbish bin, the remains of a glass vase dumped in the bottom.

"Lets get him home, shall we?"

"Yeah, I guess we should."

John follows us out silently, getting into the car without much of a problem.

"What happened in there?"

He ignores the question, passing out half way to the flat. Greg helps me get him insids, setting him down in his bed and closing the door.

"Should we stay?"

"Probably."

We sit on the sofa, cuddled together silently until the door opens. John walks down the hall to Sherlocks room, closing the door again.

"Do you want me to go-"

"No, leave him. We should go."

Greg nods, grabbing the keys from me and getting into the drivers side. I make sure the door is locked behind us, straightening the knocker on my way out.