Chapter 25

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Breakfast at the Holmes' house that morning was a gloomy affair. Sherlock pushed his food around his plate, weighed down by the knowledge of what he would have to do later that day. John nursed a cup of coffee, checking his phone constantly - Mrs Hudson had called earlier to tell him that Rosie had an upset stomach. Mr and Mrs Holmes tried to indulge them in conversation, and while John tried to be polite and friendly, they could still sense the grey cloud gathering over him. They decided to focus their energy on interrogating Mycroft instead.

"I wish you would tell us more about what's happening in your life, Mikey." Mr Holmes said.

"My name is Mycroft."

"We know that, you dolt." Mrs Holmes said, filling up his plate with a third helping of bacon. "We named you."

"Mother, no more! I'll gain weight again."

"You've barely eaten anything, sweetheart."

John's phone rang, and he excused himself, almost knocking over the coffee in his hurry. Sherlock took the chance to escape the table and follow him into the adjoining room.

"That was Mrs Hudson." John said, nearly biting his nails. "Rosie isn't any better."

"You could go back home, you know."

"What? No, I'm fine." John said, but as he kept glancing at his phone every few seconds, it wasn't very convincing. "It's probably nothing. Babies' stomachs get upset all the time. All part of the process."

"John, you're clearly itching to get back to Rosie. Go on, I'll be fine."

"Are you sure? This isn't just any crime scene. I know it's a big deal for you. Will you be okay dealing with Xavier Trevor alone?"

"I won't be alone. I have Mycroft. Not that he's a big consolation, but - he'll have to do."

"Well -" John glanced at his phone again. "Okay, then. Promise me you'll take care, and call me if you need anything or if stuff gets too dangerous."

"I won't let you miss your daily fix of danger, I promise. I'll even tell you every single fiddly detail so that you can write about it in your public love letter."

"My blog is not a public love letter." John said indignantly. "I'll leave right away, then - just let me apologize to your parents for ruining their morning."

"What are you on about? You haven't ruined it at all. You've given them a chance to grill Mycroft. It's been glorious."

***

Since neither Sherlock nor Mycroft had the patience to sit still and wait for the afternoon, they set off for Xavier Trevor's house right after breakfast. The nurse greeted them, looking worn-out and stressed.

"He's just gone off to sleep." she said.

"Not a problem." Mycroft said, sitting down on the sofa like he owned the house. "We have all the time in the world. We'll take your statement till he wakes up."

"Don't hold back. We're not with the police, not exactly." Sherlock added, sitting down beside him.

She cast a nervous glance at them, then took her place on a wicker chair directly opposite.

"I take it that you live here permanently. Where were you on the night of the break-in?" Sherlock asked.

"Out. I had a night off, so this young intern Steven was filling in for me. I usually don't like leaving Mr Trevor alone, especially not with Steven - he's quite irresponsible. But...well... it was a special occasion. My best friend's birthday."

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