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Disclaimer: The characters from the show aren't mine, they belong to others. No copyright infringement intended. Any characters you don't recognize are mine. Feedback would be nice, positive feedback would be nicer. Enjoy!
Category: Sherlock (BBC 2012 version) ficlet
Rating: PG to be safe for content
Characters: Ensemble (via text) plus (deceased) OMC and John’s Mum.
Series: No
Spoilers: None intended but anything from Seasons One and Two (including the unaired pilot) might get a mention.
Summary: John has to wonder (or worry!) what else Sherlock has shared with his Big Brother.
Archive: Just tell me where it's going
Additional 'stuff': This will only make sense if you’ve read Human Pillow (Part Three).
Title: Deflated
John looked at the caller ID on his phone and frowned. “Mum? Is everything okay?”
Sherlock’s frown matched John. He disliked any interruption to his ‘Mind Palace’ time and only tolerated John’s presence in the room if he was entirely still and completely silent.
“He died? When?”
Sherlock sighed and sat back, observing John’s expression and body language as well as the one-sided conversation he was forced to listen to. A death. Easy. Not a family member. Equally obvious. Unexpected. Simple to deduce. Then the conversation ended and Sherlock looked away, waiting for John’s verbal reaction.
“Sherlock…did you…tell anyone about what I said happened at my birthday party?”
Sherlock’s look was a carefully-crafted blend of disinterest and innocence. “What? Oh…Mycroft was being annoying as usual…I may have interrupted one of his pointless lectures with…”
John stared at Sherlock, his own expression an instantly-formed mixture of disbelief and horror. He snatched his laptop and logged onto the internet.
Sherlock watched, completely oblivious to the consternation in John’s frantic typing.
“There is NO mention of hot-air ballooning under hobbies and interests Sherlock!”
Sherlock sat up a little and wondered if John was having some kind of breakdown as the laptop was thrust towards him, the social networking site’s logo prominent on the page he was practically nose-to-nose with.
“Mum said Billy threw himself out of a hot air balloon! You told Mycroft and…somehow…he…he…did…this!” John ranted, dropping the laptop onto the sofa beside Sherlock.
Sherlock, somehow, sensed this wasn’t a moment for mockery or deflection and reached across, pulling the computer onto his lap and scrolling through the page as John paced distractedly, his hands twitching.
“It was a birthday surprise from his parents.” Sherlock held the laptop in the air, waiting for John to look down.
John’s gaze moved from Sherlock’s calm expression to the section of the page displayed on the screen. “What?”
“Something he’s always longed to try, apparently.” Sherlock said with evident disinterest, shaking the laptop a little to encourage John to take it from him, settling back when he had been relieved of the computer.
John held the computer on his forearm, scrolling slowly through the text.
Sherlock observed his flat mate carefully, relieved when John’s shoulders dropped, indicating relaxation and he stood still, mouth moving a little as he read the text below the image of hot air balloons on the web page.
“Oh…well…I just thought…I mean I know how you…Mycroft…sorry…sorry.” John’s words tumbled out as he took a few deep breaths to calm himself.”
Sherlock frowned, his face a perfect picture of disinterested incomprehension.
John walked to the kitchen and put the kettle on.
John walked back into the living room, holding out a mug. “Sorry Sherlock…I didn’t mean to…you know…imply Mycroft had anything to do with…what happened.”
Sherlock frowned at the dark liquid in the mug. “I should hope not John. You saw the entry yourself. It was an accident.”
John nodded and settled into his chair holding his own mug of tea.
Sherlock texted quickly, one eye on John sitting a few feet away. ‘Fell from a hot air balloon? Unimaginative, brother dear.’
End