If You Love Me, Let Me Go

Chapter 21: Can't Remember To Forget You

John's eyes flickered open, greeting the most stupendous sunlight that shone wildly through the narrow gap created by the curtains that almost touched. It didn't matter how many hours he spent tossing and turning, attempting to capture a decent nights sleep, John always awoke the following morning with his eyelids heavier than they were the previous night. Despite the exhaustion already beginning to gain control of his body, even John had to admit that Mycroft's sofa was comfier than any bed that he had ever slept in. John struggled to sit up right before clicking the joints in his back. His attention was soon captured by Mycroft sitting across the room from him in a grand old armchair which was clearly the most loved item of furniture he owned. Both men exchanged a few glances, but neither were prepared to open their mouths. John didn't know what to expect, but then again, that had always been the case with Mycroft. He was to expect the unexpected. Luckily, It was fairly late when John landed on his doorstep last night which allowed him to avoid questioning until sunrise. He continued to try and deduce Mycroft's thoughts, attempting to get a head start at the conversation he was unwillingly about to have.

"Go on, say it. I've only got myself to blame, right? This was never going to end well." John snapped.

"You need to put more work into your deductions, John. I was thinking nothing of the sort. I was actually going to ask if you slept well, but I can probably figure that out myself." Mycroft responded with a much gentler tone.

Given the current situation, most would find it rather peculiar that John should end up staying with Mycroft. However, despite John's importance to his brother, Mycroft had grown rather fond of him. Not just because he was another pair of eyes to mind the person who mattered most to Mycroft, but because John was a good man. A kind soul. Someone who guided him through the difficult times that naturally brought them closer together.

"Not that I like making conversation, but how are you, John?"

John searched his mind for the most simplistic answer to explain the complexity of thoughts that swirled through his mind, yet he found nothing. Nothing could possibly scratch the surface long enough to deliver an answer that could sum up the way he felt. And Mycroft could see that, so he postponed asking any further questions until he knew John was ready. John lowed his head and rested it comfortably on the arm of the sofa, gazing up at the ceiling before releasing a rather negligent yawn.

"I'm surprised that you're choosing to sit here, with me. Haven't you got a country to run or a goldfish to drown or a brother to save?" John finally questioned.

"Do you want my advice, John?" Mycroft responded, mirroring John's emotionless expression.

"Not really but I gather that I'm to expect it all the same?"

"Leave it all behind. Everything. Find some place else to get lost in and embrace change just like you've always done."

"Leave London?" John's eyes widened at the thought.

"You'll never leave London. It's engraved in your heart and soul. You'll carry pieces of it with you, wherever you decide to go. But I think that it's important that you do go. Just because you didn't find your happiness here, it doesn't mean to say that you can't look elsewhere for it."

"But, what about -"

"Leave him to me. I'll take care of him, just as I've always done. I promise."

Mycroft stood up, removed the old ragged dressing, revealing his brand new navy three piece suit and fastened the buttons to his waistcoat without glancing down. Naturally, he corrected his posture before slipped his hand into his jacket pocket and handed over a rectangular shaped envelope to John.