Warnings: Mention of past drug abuse, withdrawal, some swearing. Zombies are mentioned here too, if you don't like them! Umm, some stuff about horror films.

Spoilers: None for the BBC series. Might have slight spoilers for some films, but nothing to ruin the plot for people who hadn't seen them yet.

Disclaimer: I do not own Sherlock or any of the films mentioned in this story.

A/N 1: This was written for this prompt. I would really like Wee!Brothers-Holmes having a horror movie marathon - just the two of them. (Sorry I went a little longer and a bit different!)

A/N 2: The films mentioned here are some of the films Mark Gatiss talked about in his documentary, A History of Horror.

I haven't seen all of films so I didn't give a lot of details concerning them and I chose the ones I think Sherlock might watch or even like! with some favorites, I admit. All of them are classic and not the new production of some. I've listed them in my LJ if anyone is interested in watching them.

Alson one last note: This is Unbetaed. Mistakes are mine, but please point anything you might find so I can fix them!

I apologize if the format of the story is messed up :( I tried my best to make it good, but with FFN you never know!

"Sherlock." John called opening the door to 221B. He didn't expect an answer. Sherlock was probably working on a new experiment or John hoped, Sherlock would be asleep for a change. Neither of the option greeted him when he reached their living room. Sherlock was lying down on the couch looking lazily at the window. John glared down at him frowning.

"You know it is rude to ignore people?"

"Is it?"

"Yes, Sherlock." John turned going to the kitchen.

"Make me some tea." Sherlock called after him.

John didn't bother to say anything. Arguing with Sherlock is pointless sometimes and this was one of those times. But John doesn't give up easily.

"Ignoring your brother's texts is rude."

"No it's not. It is a right for one brother to ignore his annoying other brother's texts. But for the other brother it is wrong to ignore the first brother's texts."

John's head poked from the kitchen frowning. "Does that even make sense in your own head?"

"Yes."

"Alright." John went back to get their tea. He got back to the room and handed Sherlock his cup. He nudged Sherlock's legs to make room for him.

"While you were ignoring your brother which is by the way still childish, He called me to inform me that he'll be visiting tonight." John said sitting down.

"Oh." Sherlock took a sip from his tea not looking at John.

"Is there something you wanna share?" Sherlock didn't respond. "He also said, he'll bring the snacks since you never seem to care about this night. What's so special about this night, Sherlock?"

John waited patiently until Sherlock muttered something fast.

"Sorry?"

"I said it's the horror night."

"Horror night?" John said raising an eyebrow.

"Yes." Sherlock sat the cup down on the coffee table before turning his attention back to John. "It's a stupid thing Mycroft came up with. I can't see the point of it, but he insists on doing it."

John smiled. Leave it to the Holmes brothers to use a horror film to bond.

"Why didn't I hear of this before?"

"Because it's silly and I refuse to do it." Sherlock was sulking which made John's smile grow bigger. He lent down and dropped a soft kiss on Sherlock's lips.

"What was that for?" Sherlock asked suspiciously.

"No reason." He took another sip of his almost cold tea before adding. "So, you and Mycroft did this before. The horror night thing?"

"Yes."

"When did this... tradition started?"

"It's not a tradition John. It's my brother's way to annoy me." Sherlock was still sulking.

"Alright," it was easier for John to agree with him if he wants answers. "When did it start?"

Sherlock closed his eyes and started to talk.

_._._._

The first time Mycroft brought them films to watch was when Sherlock was 15. Their parents left for a business trip and Sherlock was suppose to be alone, but mummy had called Mycroft and asked him to keep him "company" which Sherlock translated it as "babysit him."

When Mycroft came that night, Sherlock was not happy. He was old enough to take care of himself. It was true he almost burned the house to the ground last week, but that was not his fault. The fire extinguisher was empty because he already used it for another experiment the week before. But that was not his fault either, it was his father's fault for not replacing it! It's so clear and obvious, why couldn't they see the logic?

Mummy didn't listen to his complains or explanations.

"It's not that we don't trust you dear. It will do both of you good to spend the weekend together." That was all she said before kissing him on the head and leave.

Mycroft, on the other hand, was happy. He came carrying a bag of snacks and another bag full with films. Sherlock was sitting on his bed trying to look uninterested with what his brother got.

"Your acting works on other people but not me, little brother." Mycroft was speaking in a pleasant tone that made Sherlock angrier than before.

"Go away Mycroft. I have things to do."

"Oh really," the big brother dropped the bags on a table near the door and walked calmly towards his younger sibling. "May I ask what you're doing?"

"None of your business."

Mycroft sat down next to him without a word. "Ah, crosswords. Very interesting indeed."

They sat in silence for a few minutes.

"Come on Sherlock. That one is so obvious."

Sherlock muttered something before shutting the book and throwing it on the nightstand.

"What will it take for you to leave me alone?"

Mycroft grinned getting up. "I brought some films that you might like."

"You know I don't like watching crappy stuff." Sherlock said with annoyance.

"But these are classic. You'll like them." Mycroft took the second bag looking inside then walked back to the bed.

"I don't wanna watch anything."

"Stop acting like a child. Here," Mycroft sat down again. "Choose one of them and if you don't like it I'll take them away and we can do something else."

Sherlock frowned but took the bag. He took out one move at a time. Looking at the cover and reading the reviews on the back of the box. After a while he blow out a breath and glared at his brother.

"I don't know. You choose one." He throw himself back on his pillows dramatically.

"If you insist." Mycroft was not trying to hide his smirk. He knows his brother too well to know Sherlock will not be able to pick something.

"What about this one. The Phantom of the Opera. It's a silent film so you will not have an excuse to ridicules what they're saying."

"I can read lips."

"No, you can't. Not yet anyway." The smirk was back on Mycroft's face and the frown on Sherlock's face was getting deeper.

"Fine. One film then you'll leave me alone."

"Yes. Unless you ask for another one."

Sherlock got up snoring at his brother. "That'll never happen." He left the room snatching the snack bag from the table. Mycroft's smirk was still on his face.

The night started with The Phantom of The Opera. Sherlock tried to look as bored as he possibly can during the first 20 minutes of the film. Mycroft ignored him. After that, Sherlock seemed to be taken by the film or rather focusing on the writing. Whatever the reason was, Mycroft was glad to see him so into it that he was actually eating some of the snacks Mycroft brought.

Other than the occasional snoring and "That's ridiculous," "Really!" or "That's impossible." Sherlock didn't actually do anything to make Mycroft turn off the VCR and kick him out of the living room. The film was over and Sherlock looked somehow less bored.

"Another one, little brother?" Mycroft tried to keep his voice leveled, he filed.

Sherlock glared at him taking a crisp and throwing it into his mouth. Mycroft took that as a yes and replaced The Phantom with Mystery of the Wax Museum.

This time, Sherlock didn't even try to pretend he was interested in the film. He sat forward watching and with no doubt trying to read the characters. Mycroft sitting next to him was smiling at his brother's enthusiasm, but didn't comment on it.

The next film was Dracula. Mycroft didn't ask if Sherlock wanted to see another film. He played it and relaxed back into the couch taking the crisp bag from Sherlock who glared at him.

"You should watch what you eat."

"I could say the same thing to you. Not eating will catch up with you."

"I eat fine." Sherlock scowled.

"Whatever you say."

Sherlock leaned back grumbling which was ignored. The film begun and they both stayed silent. Mycroft wasn't sure if Sherlock had read the novel or not, It wasn't clear from the way his little brother was frowning at the screen and making a sound which Mycroft thought of as disapprove gesture or perhaps approval? By the end of the film, Sherlock was looking tired.

"It's late," Mycroft was looking at the clock hanging near the door. "I think this is enough for the night."

Sherlock nodded yawning.

"We'll do this again sometime." Mycroft smiled.

"Yeah." Sherlock closed his eyes.

The next morning he woke up to find himself sleeping on his brother's lap. Mycroft hand resting on the top of his head and a blanket covering them.

"You'll be sore when you wake up." He knew Mycroft couldn't hear him. He was sleeping soundly and Sherlock soon drifted back to sleep.

_._._._

John had a huge smile on his face when Sherlock finished telling the story.

"What?" Sherlock glared.

"Nothing," John shook his head. "Nothing at all." He pressed another kiss to his lover's mouth. "Tell me about the second time you guys had a Horror Night."

Sherlock settled back down closing his eyes.

_._._._

The second time the Holmes brother had a horror night was when Sherlock hit 20. He was sharing a room in Oxford with a guy by the name of Sebastian Wilkes who was his new housemate. Sherlock was not surprise to see a new face since the last unfortunate guy almost quit school just to run way from him.

Sebastian was someone who Sherlock would never give him a second look in a normal situation, but this one wasn't normal. The guy was a huge pain in the arse who was boring and lives for gossip. Sherlock didn't care for the people who live, study or even breath in the same space as he is and that also included Sebastian. Even though Sherlock took some pleasure of seeing their (people who are stealing his oxygen) faces when he expose their deepest secrets and desires to everyone, he didn't take it as a hobby. For the past few years, Sherlock was busy with university work and finding his own path. One that will not kill him from boredom or turn him into Seb, the later was the worst scenario.

So when his parents informed him about their sudden and immediate trip out of the country and therefore the weekend he planed on going back home was canceled, Sherlock was furious. He didn't want to go back to his childhood home, mind you. All he wanted was a real conversation for a change. University students became boring after a while. So he was stuck with his so called companions who were having a drinking contest in a new pub.

The person Sherlock secretly wished to see, but will never ever say it out loud was standing at his door.

"Mycroft." Sherlock's eyes were a little wide.

"Good evening, Sherlock." Mycroft smiled at his younger brother.

"What are you doing here?" He asked suspiciously.

"Bringing the weekend to you." Mycroft said pointing at the two bags on the floor.

"Aren't you suppose to be pushing papers for... Whoever you're working for now?"

"Not tonight. Are you going to let me in?" Mycroft's smile was still in place.

Sherlock looked at his brother for a moment before stepping back to allow him to enter. Mycroft picked up the bags.

"I see you managed to drive another poor soul out of this place," he said looking around the room. "How's the new guy?"

"Like all of them." Sherlock sat down on his bed frowning.

"Now Sherlock. Try to look beyond the obvious behaviors. He might be an interesting person after all."

"They never are."

Mycroft didn't respond to that, instead he went to sit the bags on his brother's desk. He looked around the room one more time before settling his gaze on his brother.

"What?" Sherlock scowled as usual.

"I was planing on visiting this weekend, too. Too bad they had to leave." Mycroft sat down on his brother's chair.

"It doesn't matter. I have a lot of things to finish, anyway."

"Of course you do." Mycroft smiled softly. When will Sherlock learn he'll never be able to fool him? "I brought some films for us to watch."

Sherlock eyed the bags then snatch the one with the films in it. Mycroft leaned back and observed. In less than a minute, Sherlock glared up at him.

"Choose one."

"My pleasure, little brother."

The Night of the Living Dead, was the first film they watched. Mycroft knew those sort of films will both intrigue and annoy his brother so he couldn't help but to choose it first. Sherlock was so into the film he all but yelled at one of the scenes in it.

"Oh for God's sake, just kick her already."

"She's her daughter Sherlock."

"She's dead and a zombie." Mycroft rolled his eyes.

The film was over and Sherlock was almost on a sugar high from all the chocolate bars he has been eating.

"What's next?" Sherlock asked.

"Well, I think we should push the spook element up a notch, don't you think?" Mycroft didn't expect Sherlock to actually ask for another one, but he was sure it's the effect of the sweets.

The Exorcist, was Mycroft second choice for that night. At first, Sherlock didn't seem to enjoy it much but then he abandoned his snacks which Mycroft happily took. At the end, he looked at Mycroft.

"You don't really believe in all of this, do you?"

"Doesn't matter what I believe," Mycroft smirked while Sherlock scowled. "Up for another one then?"

Mycroft didn't wait for an answer. He got up and replaced the tape with another one. Shivers, was the title of it.

"I would love to study that." Sherlock remarked half the way through the film.

"You do realize it's not real, don't you?"

"Doesn't change the fact that studying it would be interesting."

"Of course." Mycroft looked at his brother who was with no doubt trying to annalyze the way those parasites work, smiling Mycroft shook his head. Sherlock will never change.

They finished the rest of the film in silence which was cut by the screaming coming from the TV. After the film was over, Sherlock stood and stretch. Mycroft followed suit looking at his watch.

"I should be going." He said gathering his jacket and the films bag. "You're friends will be back shortly."

"They're not my friends." Sherlock's glares don't affect Mycroft anymore.

"Acquaintances then," Mycroft said smiling. "Take care, little brother."

And Mycroft was gone leaving his brother to handle the drunk people running down the hall.

_._._._

John was chuckling by the time Sherlock finished.

"What's so funny?"

"I was just imagining you taking care of a drunk Sebastian."

Sherlock snorted. "I didn't. I left him to stumble alone in the room and went to the common room."

"Weren't they all drunk?"

"Yes. I kicked them out."

"You did not!" John was laughing now.

"I did," Sherlock was holding his laughs back. "I just told them to leave or else I'd expose every single thing they're trying to hide from themselves by drinking or from each other by acting stupid."

"You're awful." But the heat of John's words were lost by the kiss he planted on Sherlock's smiling lips. "Next time?"

Sherlock ground. "Isn't this enough?"

"I am curious," John said nudging Sherlock's legs. "Come on."

Sherlock closed his eyes again.

_._._._

Sherlock was 25 when the next night of horror arrived. Sherlock was between jobs at that time and sharing a flat with a man names Victor Trevor. An alright guy in Sherlock's opinion, but lacking the personality that fits with Sherlocks or the patience to deal with him. Nevertheless, their living arrangement were going fine until Sherlock got fired from yet another job.

Sherlock came back to the flat grumbling about how stupid people are and what's so wrong about pointing out their spouse is having an affair with their best friend? How can that be the wrong thing to do? To Victor's credit he survived Sherlock none stop complaining for a whole 10 minutes before fleeing the flat and leaving him to work out his black mood. Mycroft showed up 20 minutes after that.

Sherlock was not in the mood to deal with his brother.

"Get out and leave me alone."

"It's always nice to see you, brother."

"Can't say the same about you."

"What a shame." Mycroft sat across from his brother.

A moment of silence then Sherlock sighed and met his eyes. "If you're going to lecture me about my behavior, save you breath."

"I wasn't. I brought you some food and a film or two."

"Not in the mood." Sherlock sounded really tired to Mycroft. He didn't say anything though.

"I believe you'll find these to be interesting. One in particular." Mycroft as usual ignored his brother's protests. After all, big brother always knows what's better for little brother, right? He throw a bag of crisps to Sherlock and sat down on the couch next to him playing the first film.

Psycho, a classical horror film. Mycroft was positive the film will hold his brother's interest from the start which it did. Sherlock always loved Mysteries and puzzle solving, but his brother newfound love for crime solving made him chose this film and the one after it. Sherlock was watching with keen observation and an analytic look in his eyes. Shame, thought Mycroft. He would analyze the whole film and forgets to actually enjoy it.

"Why do they use that annoying music every time there is a killer!" Sherlock muttered.

"Do you really want to know?"

"No."

After the film was over, Sherlock didn't object on watching another one, much to Mycroft relieve. He didn't want to manipulate his brother just to watch a film.

Mycroft's second choice was, The Texas Chain Saw Massacre. A film based on a real life killer, Mycroft told his brother who immediately stopped playing with his food and focused his attention on the screen.

"Humm, keeping body parts in a normal fridge. Smart." Sherlock was mostly talking to himself.

"You're not thinking of becoming a serial killer now, are you?"

"Don't be ridicules. I am just saying it's not a bad idea for future use." Mycroft frowned. He should keep an eye on his brother just in case.

Sherlock only comment after the film was over was. "I need a skull." Mycroft rolled his eyes getting up to replace the tape with the last film he brought.

Blood on Satan's Claw, he was glad he picked up a film that doesn't tell the story of another serial killer.

"The devil skin!" Sherlock frowned. "Why would the devil need the skin of people."

"Just watch the film, Sherlock."

But Sherlock didn't stop arguing about the cult, devil, children and even the location of the film. Mycroft was getting a headache.

"Would you rather I turn it off so we can discuss this better?" He paused the film while glaring at his younger brother.

Sherlock smirked eating a sweet. Mycroft glared for another second before replaying it. They watched the rest in a peaceful silence.

"Alright then. I should go. I have to be up early in the morning." Mycroft said putting his jacket on.

"You're still working in the same old boring place." Sherlock's eyes were closed and he was leaning back on the couch.

"You can always come work for me."

Sherlock snorts saying. "Like that will ever happen."

"Suit yourself. Keep in mind my offer will always be open. Good night, Sherly."

"Don't call me that!" Sherlock yelled at the closed door.

_._._._

Between the second and third story, Sherlock somehow managed to maneuver himself in the couch so now he was lying with his head on John's lap. John's hand playing with his hair.

"So I should blame Mycroft for the skull and for the body parts in the fridge." John said looking down at him.

"Partly." Sherlock smirked. "It is the only rational place to keep organs John. You're a doctor, you should know that."

"I do know that, Sherlock. I also know that keeping organs where we keep food is not healthy." John frowned for a moment before adding. "I should get you a mini fridge to keep your stuff."

"Really?" Sherlock's eyes were shining.

"Yes. That way I won't worry about food poisoning." He smiled. "Now, tell me about the last time you guys did this Horror Night."

John felt Sherlock tense.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Sherlock shook his head.

"Sherlock. I know when there is something wrong. What is it?"

The deticteve took a deep breath. "It's the year I got cleaned."

"Oh," John froze for a second before continuing to play with his lover's curls. "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to."

"No." Sherlock opened his eyes. "I do. It's not a big deal. It's been forever." John bent down an kissed his forehead. Sherlock smiled at him closing his eyes one more time.

_._._._

Sherlock was 30 when he stopped using drugs. It was on the second night of his withdrawl that Mycroft showed up at his door. At that time, Sherlock was living alone in a small flat far away from his usual choice of homes.

"What the hell do you want, Mycroft?" Sherlock was tired. He couldn't think straight with his mind clouded with fatigue and craving. The last thing he wanted was to see his brother.

"I don't need a reason to visit my own little brother now do I?" Mycroft kept his tone light and smiling.

"Piss off," Mycroft's foot was the thing stopping Sherlock from closing the door.

"Now Sherlock. I came here to check on you. Not to start another row with you."

Sherlock eyed him then his eyes shifted to look at the bags his brother was holding. "What's that?"

"I thought you might need some distraction," Mycroft's smile was back. "Mind if I come in?"

Sherlock walked inside the flat with Mycroft following behind him. The place was a mess, but it was to be expect it. Mycroft got his first real look at his brother. Dark circles under his eyes, pale skin, a sweaty and messy hair, Sherlock looked exhausted. No surprise there, withdrawl does that to a person. Mycroft sighed, how did he let his younger brother get to this point?

"Can you please stop watching me." Sherlock's voice was weaker than before.

"I am sorry." Mycroft shook himself out of the guilt thoughts, he'll deal with them after he is sure Sherlock is going to be alright on his own.

"I don't want nor need you sympathy, Mycroft."

"And I am not here to offer you any. I am just here to watch those films I have and food. I haven't eaten anything all day." Mycroft went to his brother's bedroom. He came back carrying a blanket and pillows. He arranged the pillows on the floor then sat down with his back resting on the couch. "You can join me here if you want," he said looking at Sherlock who was curled in a chair far away from him. "It's more comfortable than that hideous chair."

Sherlock glared at him before dragging himself up and walking towards him. Sherlock sat down covering himself with the blanket.

"What did you bring this time?" Sherlock asked leaning forward to grab the snacks bag.

"The Frankenstein series," Mycroft said. "Three parts. You'll enjoy them." Sherlock nodded absently taking out a chocolate bar.

The first film, Frankenstein. Mycroft knew his brother's mind is fighting a battle inside his head. So every time Sherlock snaps at him, he apologize for whatever he did in Sherlock's messed up brain and never taking his eyes off the film.

By the second film, Bride of Frankenstein. Sherlock's mood change from anger to slight depression. Mycroft didn't say a word when Sherlock took hold of his hand or when he curled into his lap with silent tears. He just hold his brother without taking his eyes off the film.

Son of Frankenstein, the last film they watched that night. Although Sherlock was exhusted, his body will not let him rest. He would close his eyes for a few minutes before jerking awake. Mycroft would smooth his hair and offer him a sip of water before laying him back down and return to the film on screen.

When the film was over, Mycroft looked down at his brother. Sherlock was dozing off, but a knock on the door woke him.

"That's Lestrade." He stated without opening his eyes.

"Ah, you're inspector friend. Would you mind lifting your head for a moment so I can go let him in?"

Sherlock muttered something but did what he was told. Mycroft placed a pillow under his head then went to the door.

"Inspector Lestrade, I believe." Mycroft greeted the man in front of him with a warm smile.

"Yes," Lestrade eyed him suspiciously. "Who are you?"

"Mycroft Holmes," he said shaking the other's man hand. "Nice to finally meet you."

"Nice to meet a Holmes who doesn't greet me with idiot." Lestrade laughed and Mycroft smiled.

"Yes. My brother has a unique way of speaking."

"How is he?" Lestrade's tone was full of concern.

"He'll be fine," Mycroft looked behind him. Sherlock seemed to be sleeping again. Turning back to Lestrade, "it will take time."

"Yeah. Well, I just came to check up on him. Make sure he is still holding on."

"Thank you."

"Alright then. Goodbye Mr. Holmes."

"Goodbye, Inspector."

"Greg." Lestrade grinned at him before turning to leave.

Mycroft went back to his brother's side with a smile on his face.

"He's married." Sherlock sleepy voice informed him.

"Separated."

"They'll get a divorce soon."

"Probably."

Sherlock was sleeping when Mycroft took the pillow from under his head and placed his brother back in his lap.

_._._._

John's hand was rubbing Sherlock's arm the whole time he was telling him the story. It was true Sherlock left a lot of his withdrawal details, but John knew those days were not easy at all. He was grateful to Mycroft. They sat in silence until they heard the door to their home close.

"Mycroft is here." John stated.

"Obviously."

"Don't try to look unhappy," John chuckled. " I know deep down you like this night."

"I do not. It's a silly night." Sherlock was pouting.

"Yeah well, you'll have to endure it." The sound of foot steps coming up could be heard.

"We," Sherlock said. "We'll have to endure it. You're not leaving me here alone with him."

"Sherlock. This night is for you and for your brother. A family night."

"No it's not."

"Yes it is. Your tradition."

Sherlock was about to object more when Mycroft voice cut him off.

"Yes, John," They both looked up. "Please do stay. I believe you are a part of the family now!" Mycroft smile was soft. A smile John had never seen before.

Mycroft didn't give either of them a chance to respond before he dropped the three bags on the coffee table. "I didn't know what you like John so I brought everything I could think of." John blinked. Is this really Mycroft Holmes?

"Thank you." He said.

Mycroft went to their DVD player and took out a film John couldn't see the title of it from his position. Sherlock didn't move from his own position on John's lap and was uncharacteristically quiet with a thoughtful look on his face. John took his hand and kissed it which made Sherlock look up with a small smile. John watched as Mycroft prepared the film then setting down.

"Shall we start this night?"

The screen flickered.