Private Universe

A/N: Dammit! I got another plot bunny whilst writing Chapter 4 of Not Too Distant Future. Crap! I'm having a hard enough time writing that one without adding another story (even though secretly I love doing this to myself). The title and the idea comes from the song of the same name by Crowded House & is my new obsession of a song – which happens with me – now I will play it incessantly and my family will kill me:P This is a little bit inspired by The Cell, not as gory and creepy but hopefully as visually stunning! – More of a fluffy love story – not heavy on plot – I don't think – more musing on Johlockedness – at least so far! Of course I say that now… (I'll shut up now!).

Prologue

John sighed.

He was tired and he didn't really want to be here.

But he hadn't been given a choice.

He flipped through the chart. The man lying on the bed had deliberately jumped. There were extensive injuries including, no doubt, brain trauma. He had actually been lucky. It looked like he had set up the jump on purpose, a large air mattress, the kind used in movie stunts on the back of a lorry, had taken the impact from most of his fall but a glancing blow on the side of the lorry had rendered him unconscious. He had also managed to twist his leg underneath himself and had broken it in several places. Bruising, wrenched muscles, cuts.

Normally not the kind of person John would have attempted Dream Merging, but he had been ordered to come. Orders that came from on high.

Orders from the brother of the man lying on the bed.

The door to the hospital room opened behind him. He didn't turn around. He knew who it was without looking.

The known entity also refused to immediately acknowledge John's presence. The last time they had spoken it had not been pleasant.

John cautiously watched the older man as he laid an almost tender hand upon the patient's head. John was surprised. Nothing in his experience with the man so far had indicated he had any emotions, let alone affection. However, this was his younger brother, so perhaps he was the exception.

Of course it could all be for show, knowing John would be more likely to help someone because of affection than not.

Punching my buttons. Mr. Holmes?

Mr. Mycroft Holmes turned to John at that moment and raised an imperious brow, almost as if he had heard John's internal query.

"Well, Dr. Watson? Have you changed your mind?" He didn't bother to reiterate the arguments of the previous evening, attempting to win John over with words like duty and national security, although normally that would have done some measure of swerving John's commitment toward helping him. He was not the type of man to repeat himself so he tried a different tactic and deducing the expression on the good doctor's face it looked like it might be working.

"Dr. Watson, he is after all my baby brother. My only family. I need to know why he jumped and what happened on the roof of the hospital. I know you won't do it for my previous reasons, but will you do it to answer questions?"

John looked at Mycroft steadily. "Your motives for wanting to know are still the same motives you had last night. You are just trying to present it more attractively, wrapping it up in sibling affection. You have read my file very thoroughly haven't you?"

Bring in family might have been a mistake. Fascinating. This Dr. Watson was surprising, and certainly did not respond to the usual manipulations. He was definitely interesting. Perhaps interesting and intriguing enough not to get kicked out of his brother's brain.

Mycroft straightened. "Very well Dr. Watson. What will it take for you to merge with my brother, to help me find the answers I'm looking for? Would you respond to threats, perhaps?"

A cold calculating look replaced the more alien one of brotherly concern that had been on his face earlier.

"You don't frighten me, Mr. Holmes."

"No, I don't suppose I do. Remarkable. So Doctor, will you answer my question?"

"You could try 'Please'." The corner of John's mouth quirked. "It's the one thing you haven't said yet."

Mycroft continued to stare frostily at the much shorter man in front of him. He cleared his throat.

"Very well. Please."

John locked eyes for a moment longer, not wanting to give up his slight advantage.

"Right then. Let's get set up."

He began to leave, to prepare things down in the lab, but before he left he turned back to Mycroft.

"One more thing, Mr. Holmes. One more reminder. There is no guarantee this will work. There is no guarantee that your brother's brain isn't too damaged for me to make sense of anything in there. I will most likely get kicked out, perhaps not be allowed back in."

Mycroft straighten even more if that was possible.

"As long as you do your best Dr. Watson. That's all I ask."

It was John's turn for a frosty glare. "I always do Mr. Holmes."

Mycroft watched the doctor leave the room.

He then looked down at his brother lying there, pale and unnaturally still on the bed. Sherlock was never still.

This time he didn't have to fake the look of concern and affection on his face.

"I am doing my best Sherlock. I am not quite ready to give up on you as easily as you are."

He pulled up the chair beside Sherlock's bed and while no one was in the room to see, he held on to his baby brother's hand.