Let The Shadows Win

Funny What Fate Had In Mind

The opera records were still playing, yet they were quieter now, so as to let Rosie sleep peacefully. John went to pour two glasses of whiskey while Sherlock went to sit on the couch, listening quietly to the opera as if he had attempted to recreate the song in his head for the longest time. John had to admit that the song was beautiful, and it seemed so challenging to sing that even if he didn't enjoy the music he at least had to respect the effort put forth by the artist. John rejoined Sherlock on the couch and handed him his glass of whiskey, watching as Sherlock's eyes trailed far off, towards the hallway as if he was watching for someone to arrive through the front door. Yet there was no one, and as soon as John touched his shoulder Sherlock blinked and came back to the real world.
"What are you thinking about?" John asked, just attempting to start something of a conversation. Sherlock's face broke into a smile, and he looked over with that soft expression John so loved.
"Oh just the past. Back when I used to live here the last time, with Mycroft. I'm trying to remember as far back as I can, but everything's so blurred. It's as if I had been living under a sheet my entire life, and after the penitentiary it had been lifted, and I got to see the world as it really is." Sherlock admitted quietly.
"You think the therapy healed you?" John clarified.
"Well it must've. I'm not crazy, don't you think?" Sherlock agreed proudly, holding himself just a little bit higher as if sanity really was a rare thing in his world.
"Yes I think you're quite healed." John agreed a bit reluctantly. "You're not seeing things anymore, right?"
"Seeing things?" Sherlock asked, looking confused as if he didn't quite understand what John was getting at.
"Yes, like...well weren't you mentioning seeing people, Mycroft, and Victor?" John pointed out. Sherlock laughed, nodding his head as if that was just a funny memory.
"Ah yes, I do remember that. No they...they went away with the therapy. I was taught how to keep them at bay." Sherlock claimed, although the tone of his voice was enough to make John just a tad suspicious. Of course he would like to believe that Sherlock was sane and honest, however he seemed to be very far off at times, as if he was listening to voices that no one else could hear and watching people who were invisible.
"That's good to hear. No offense but, I don't exactly like the idea of your brother sticking around in your head." John admitted with a grin.
"You're afraid of Mycroft?" Sherlock wondered, looking towards John as if this came as some sort of surprise.
"Well yes of course. You're not?" John asked with a bit of a nervous laugh.
"I'm not sure what I feel about him. I feel as if he was very conflicted, maybe even bipolar. There were moments when he was a monster, but there were also times when he was a proper big brother, and a kind man." Sherlock admitted quietly. "There were times when I felt that we really were family."
"He literally made you kill your boyfriends." John pointed out with a doubtful laugh.
"Well, in his defense he did think that it was protection." Sherlock managed, yet even as he said it his face broke out into a doubtful smile. They both knew that no matter the motive, Mycroft's acts were inexcusable. He had been the one to damage Sherlock so badly; he had been the one to feed him lies about being a sociopath only to force him to follow the lifestyle that he saw best fit. A secluded lifestyle, which basically shunned all form of communication and social media. It was a way of alienating Sherlock from the outside world as an attempt to keep him from feeling anything, and as a way of keeping him at home for as long as possible. It was no lie that Mycroft cared for Sherlock, yet his methods of going about such care were so wildly inaccurate that they were abusive, not just physically but mentally as well. The very idea of that man, the twisted memories John had of Mycroft looming in the freezer near Sherlock's side, his eyes black as death and his white hand twisting on Sherlock's shoulder so as to convince him to murder, well it freaked John out! This house used to be Mycroft's territory, and so there will always be a little part of him that remained on edge. There will always be a little bit of doubt as to the safety of his family while living here, just until he proved once and for all that with the destruction of Mycroft's body they were free of his influence and spirit once and for all.