"I don't, Sherlock. I look after you enough, i look after you because if I look away for one second you're off destroying your own life! Killing Charles Augustus Magnussen! Traveling forty kilometers to get your next fix to feel something." He's near shouting, raising his voice and snarling, and forget trying to be cordial - there's no point when Sherlock is high, nothing is getting through to him.
"You're a grown man, and you're in your pyjamas at four in the afternoon, high as can be, and you're telling me you're not acting out for attention? Obviously you do need looking after, and if John isn't around to play your nanny, that responsibility falls on my shoulders."
Mycroft knows fully well the man is thinking of hitting him. Knows it from his stance, his defensiveness and the way that fist curls and unfurls, knows that there is a punch that's going to be swung his way at any moment if he isn't careful. He's got his jaw set, watching him closely, watching because he knows what is going to happen.
"You may not want me to be the one who helps to clean up the messes you've made, but you've proven ineffective at doing so yourself."
no subject
"You're a grown man, and you're in your pyjamas at four in the afternoon, high as can be, and you're telling me you're not acting out for attention? Obviously you do need looking after, and if John isn't around to play your nanny, that responsibility falls on my shoulders."
Mycroft knows fully well the man is thinking of hitting him. Knows it from his stance, his defensiveness and the way that fist curls and unfurls, knows that there is a punch that's going to be swung his way at any moment if he isn't careful. He's got his jaw set, watching him closely, watching because he knows what is going to happen.
"You may not want me to be the one who helps to clean up the messes you've made, but you've proven ineffective at doing so yourself."