“Then let me!” he practically roars back at Mycroft. “It’s my life, Mycroft!”
Mycroft knows it’s coming, but there’s no avoiding the attack that comes. It’s not a punch, not a well-executed martial arts attack; it’s a savage lunge like a rabid dog going for the throat. He hits Mycroft with the full force of his body and they land awkwardly, Mycroft surely struggling to catch himself and Sherlock’s scrabbling to finish what he’d started.
He knocks the bin away from Mycroft, and some of the baggies inside are tumbling out, needles scattered over the floor as he tries to wrestle Mycroft down. He’s not making this easy and that’s only making Sherlock angrier, and he is quick to take out his frustration on him. He winds back to punch him, but he’s out of control and it’s hardly well aimed, but it’s hard regardless. It’s going to hurt.
Sherlock doesn’t stop moving until he’s got Mycroft pinned beneath him and he hits him again, because he’s there, and he’s still looking at him like he’s a stupid little kid who needs to be picked up after and punished to make him behave. He wants to punch that look off his face, wants to hit him until he stops talking.
no subject
Mycroft knows it’s coming, but there’s no avoiding the attack that comes. It’s not a punch, not a well-executed martial arts attack; it’s a savage lunge like a rabid dog going for the throat. He hits Mycroft with the full force of his body and they land awkwardly, Mycroft surely struggling to catch himself and Sherlock’s scrabbling to finish what he’d started.
He knocks the bin away from Mycroft, and some of the baggies inside are tumbling out, needles scattered over the floor as he tries to wrestle Mycroft down. He’s not making this easy and that’s only making Sherlock angrier, and he is quick to take out his frustration on him. He winds back to punch him, but he’s out of control and it’s hardly well aimed, but it’s hard regardless. It’s going to hurt.
Sherlock doesn’t stop moving until he’s got Mycroft pinned beneath him and he hits him again, because he’s there, and he’s still looking at him like he’s a stupid little kid who needs to be picked up after and punished to make him behave. He wants to punch that look off his face, wants to hit him until he stops talking.