Fade to Black

Chapter 1

Life, it seems, will fade away

Drifting further every day

Getting lost within myself

Nothing matters, no one else

I have lost the will to live

Simply nothing more to give

There is nothing more for me

Need the end to set me free

Now that the decision has been made, he felt more at ease, more than that a small part of him feels as if he can finally in some small way give retribution for his past mistakes. It doesn't count the fact the he was just small boy himself, a teenager trying to find his way in life. He was smart, that wasn't in dispute, no, he was without guidance and had to find a way, a path in this life, in this world and the situation he was in, on his own.

He knows people would think that he was just being too dramatic for his own good, but he wasn't, he was tired. Just tired. He tried, he gave it his all, he dedicated his life and it still wasn't enough. Not after everything that had happened, not after everything he had lost.

After the whole incident at Sherringford he was on thin ice. Ironic really, the Ice-Man dancing on thin ice, any moment he would slip and the ice would break drowning him. He couldn't let that happen so he decided to take matters in his own hands.

It didn't help that he apologized to Lady Smallwood on so many occasions, that thin thread of connections became thinner, almost like the web of a spider, can only see it when light reflects it or when you tangle yourself in it. In this case, he got tangled up.

"I'm sorry about this Mycroft." Her voice was soft filled with regret but strong. Mycroft looked up at her, the corners of his mouth upturned in cynical smile.

"I know." He replied as he handed her the documents.

She took the file with the usb on top, noticing how her hands were steady, yet Mycroft's long pale fingers were slightly trembling. "This is the last, isn't it?"

He nodded sharply, and pulled his hands back to the table.

"Yes, all my current files, plans and projects. The passwords along with the necessary footnotes." He glanced at the desk it was empty from all the Top Secret files he was busy with; his security clearance has been reduced. He let his sister took over a maximum security prison without any hint or idea, how can they expect him to be trusted with something as National Security?

"They will be replaced and renamed in the next fifteen minutes."

"I know it was my decision to implement it." He was tired of everything. He wanted to go home. She sighed and sat down.

"I'm sorry about this. It wasn't my decision."

"I know we all have always been the diligent foot soldiers to the Crown. I don't blame you." He meant it, it wasn't her fault, and it was his. To be honest, he was going to miss this office, not the current atmosphere though; it was still filled with the echoes of his parents disdain and blame. "Limited." Mummy called him, he was many things but he never ever was limited, until now. They hardly left when Lady Smallwood came in, demoting him. He knew it was going to happen, he expected it sooner, but can only deduce that Lady Smallwood tried to find another way, trying to help him. There was a reason she was assigned the name 'Love' but just as love is, sometimes love can be cruel - just like his original thought about Euros, he acted out of kindness, love and compassion turns out it was wrong. Love sometimes just isn't love at all.

She seemed to accept it before she turned to leave.

"I need to be going." He got up and greeted her. She walked to the door before turning around.

"I will still call upon you for help, if that is okay?"

He put on his most sincere smile.

"Of course."

He waited till the door closed behind her before he sagged down in his chair. One down, several to go.

The past few weeks have been one hell of a rollercoaster for him and try as he might, he just couldn't let it go. The secrets were out, the truth out and once again the weight of it all is on his shoulders. In all honesty he was fed up with carrying it all.

He lifted his phone to contact Anthea for the car when he stopped. She has been reassigned; he will need to find his own way home now. He squared his shoulders, its fine, he can do it. Picking up his trusted umbrella he made his way out the building without paying attention to the people around him, he had other things on his mind.

A small part of him wanted to call Sherlock to make sure he was all right but decided against that. They may have gone through Sherringford together but they are nowhere close to being tight brothers. There is a new understanding between them, but some scars run too deep to be healed overnight – if at all.

The whole trip home was filled with the words of 'how the mighty have fallen' and it is in his little sister's voice. That haunting shrilly little voice of his sister. She won, after all these years, after everything she still won.

Things not what they used to be

Missing one inside of me

Deathly lost, this can't be real

Cannot stand this hell I feel

Emptiness is filling me

To the point of agony

Growing darkness taking dawn

I was me, but now he's gone

The house was empty, like always, but ever since Sherlock and John's little dramatics, the house feels haunted too. Well good thing he had decided to end things. First things first, he has a few days off, so that would give him all the time he needed to arrange everything. Right now, he wanted a hot bath and some rest, if he was fortunate enough to get some. His nightmares have increased recently.

The next morning he woke up, another night of nightmares and screams, he was so used to it. Having a quick breakfast he took a pen and some colored stickers and started in the furthest room, everything with a red sticker needed to be thrown away or given to charity, either way he wants it gone. Blue stickers should go to Sherlock; there were only two stickers; his umbrella and the family movie with them. His heart ached to see Sherlock hugging him like that again, but it was a feeble wish that he should just forget. Whatever Sherlock wants to do with it is up to him. He himself doesn't care anymore; the pain and hurt to watch that will just broke what little he has left.

His progress was quick and short, he already knew what to do with everything, and it was just a matter of putting the stickers everywhere. The portraits, it was still blood stained but he couldn't care, one part of him wanted to give it just like that back to his parents, they can deal with it, and Sherlock can explain why it was ruined, the other part said no, it won't be fair. They ended up with no stickers.

MHMHMHMH

Two days later the house was empty, or nearly empty, he kept his bed and wardrobe and a sofa along with a table, the rest he didn't need, even the cupboards were empty, it is highly unlikely that he needed a new table cloth or bed sheets for the spare room. The walls were still covered with portraits but he was still undecided. On the third day he felt that he could face the outside world again, making a few calls to several solicitors and a few other people the documents were drawn up and ready for collection in an hour. It would be perfect, it would give him enough time to get dressed and make all the necessary arrangement for his trip. It was after another half an hour when he realized he had no idea where his brother was, he wasn't privy to the information anymore and since they have never shared anything he would need to call him. The thing was he wasn't ready to talk yet so texting it was.

"I would like to meet you this afternoon, can we meet somewhere? MH"

"No. SH"

"Sherlock, please, there were several changes made on the trust and I need to give you the documents MH."

"Don't care. SH"

"I added Dr. Watson and his child; you care about them don't you? MH"

"I'll be at Baker Street the whole afternoon. SH"

"Thank you. MH"

There was no reply, not that he didn't expect it, after everything that had happened, he still meant next to nothing to his brother, he can't really blame him. Doctor John Watson on the other hand, Sherlock will drain the ocean if you ask him to do that for John. A small part of him wished that he could have just ten percent, even five percent of that dedication from Sherlock. Still, it won't be a problem for much longer. Since he was still off, he didn't bother with the whole suit, he was too tired to care, and too despondent to make an effort. He didn't even bother with his umbrella, the need wasn't there anymore. He still wore his black slacks, a white button down and his blazer, no waistcoat, pocket watch and the rest of the armor. He was defeated; the war is over, the battle lost so the armor wasn't needed.

No one but me can save myself, but it's too late

Now I can't think, think why I should even try

Baker Street was in the process of being repaired after the explosion the door was open so he made his way upstairs. Sherlock and John were discussing new furniture and he could hear the small garble of the baby. It was so domestic, his brother finally turned into the man they all thought he would. The last time he was coming down the stairs he saved Mrs. Hudson after his sister blew them up. He probably should try to amend things with her as well, he sighed, he didn't want to, he was good enough to fix her place time after time when Sherlock ran too many dangerous experiments or shot up the wall, he was good enough to make sure she wasn't arrested for her diving skills, he was good enough for everything else, except being Sherlock's brother.

He stepped into the room and Sherlock immediately turned to him. John followed his gaze and all three men were momentarily frozen. Mycroft for seeing his little brother holding a baby girl and she were smiling and very comfortable. His heart ached. The only thing he ever wanted to see was his little brother happy and here he was; finally happy. A small part once again wished he could see his brother as she got older, the way she was going to be protected by these two men, she was more blessed and lucky than most.

Sherlock and John stared at Mycroft, John had never seen Mycroft so relaxed and at ease. He looked so different from what he is used to and admittedly it took him by surprise. It was a side he didn't know Mycroft had and he felt more at ease, he could get use to Mycroft like this, it made him less like a machine and more human. Sherlock tried to remember the last time he saw his brother like this in his casual clothes. He couldn't. He was without his umbrella, he was without his usual look was missing and it was a bit disconcerting. Rosie gave a sharp gargle and it broke the tension.

"Good afternoon Sherlock, Dr. Watson, thank you for seeing me, I'll be quick." Without waiting for an answer he walked over to the nearest surface and put the file down. Sherlock and John glanced at each other before they walked over to him.

"This new Trust is set in place in the event of the passing of either of you. After Sherringford and the security breach I transferred and updated everything with a new firm." He congratulated himself on his steady voice, firm and to the point.

"What do you mean 'either of us' I thought it was Sherlock's Trust?" John asked as he looked at Mycroft not the papers.

"Sherlock called you family, you have always been more his family than I ever was Dr. Watson..." Sherlock frowned and narrowed his eyes behind his brother but didn't say anything. "...and after everything that had happened, my brother needs someone who can help him to manage the Trust, as you are family, you are included now as well, so is your daughter." John looked surprised and turned to the papers for the first time.

"Me and Rosie?"

"Yes, you have full access to the Trust to give her anything she need; you and Sherlock just needs to provide the necessary documents and the money will be released." Mycroft didn't dare to look at his brother; he really does not feel in the mood for a mental and observation game now. John looked like he wanted to say something, but nothing comes to mind. After he glanced at all the documents he turned to Mycroft who stood next to him, a pen in his hand.

"Please sign at all the necessary places, you too Sherlock..." He added glancing over his shoulder. "...So I can submit it and get out of your hair."

"What about you?" John finally asked taking the pen. Mycroft turned to John, showing his confusion.

"What about me?"

"I don't see your name on here." John provided waving his hand over the paper. Sherlock stepped closer at that, he wasn't aware of that.

"It is because I am not in that Trust, this is for the three of you, besides setting it up and arranging everything I will have no power or influence over any of this." Sherlock and John stood next to each other, both staring at him. Rosie was looking at Mycroft with big eyes.

"Why not?" Sherlock asked.

"Because you are old enough to do your own thing and as you always wished for my distance, for me to stop my meddling I am giving you what you want." Mycroft said, swift and steady, he looked at both of them and then at the room, most of the debris has been taken away, oh that reminds him. He turned back to them.

"The repairs of Baker Street are also fully paid for, but it is not out of the Trust, or Mrs. Hudson's account, tell he that would you?"

"Tell her yourself." Sherlock provided and saw the slight flinch Mycroft gave.

"What happened? Did you say something to her?" Mycroft opened his mouth to answer when he was interrupted.

"No, she said something to him." John said and they turned to him, Mycroft had a pleading look in his eyes, he didn't want his brother to know what she really thinks of him. Sherlock looked at John the question clear.

"What did she said to him?"

"Really... it's not necessary." Mycroft tried, waving his hand as if to wave the conversation away but Sherlock ignored him. John glanced at Sherlock before he looked back at Mycroft.

"When you were in hospital after Smith, he tried to find out why you relapsed and how to do his usual thing trying to help you and 'meddling' as you like to say, when we found the DVD with Mary and she chased everyone out. Mycroft stayed, hoping to watch it so he knew what was going on, but she chased him away, calling him a reptile." Mycroft set his jaw and lowered his head, he couldn't look either of them in the eye, John was right, he tried to stay, he didn't know why Sherlock relapsed and took the drugs, he didn't know how to help him, he didn't know what to do, and he was desperate. He needed to leave, he needed air, he was tired of all this, but it is okay, he doesn't have to hold on for much longer. The room was silent no one spoke except for Rosie making noises.

"You saved her life." Sherlock voice was soft as he remembered the explosion. Mycroft decided to come clean.

"She hates me Sherlock, and I don't blame her, I have never given her a reason that I actually cared about you and the I meddled because I didn't know how else to help you, you didn't want my help, you never did and I promised I would look after you, my methods weren't good, I'll admit it, the truth is however she never liked me."

"But..."

"No buts. Just sign the documents; you didn't want me here in the first place, until I told you this concern Dr. Watson and his daughter too, so let's not pretend you actually care and I won't pretend everything is fine and we are all moving on, so please sign the papers so I can leave." That was the wrong thing to say as he recognized that look his brother gave, stubbornness. Well as he said, he wasn't in the mood to play games anymore. He wasn't in the mood for anything anymore. Mrs. Hudson hates him, John dislikes him with a passion, Euros wished he was never born, only wanted Sherlock, his parents thinks he is a failure, Sherlock thinks he is his archenemy, he lost his position and power, his job pretty much and he was done.

"No. I think you should stay." John and Mycroft turned to Sherlock.

"Why Sherlock?" Mycroft asked his voice losing the hard edge, and a crack in the icy façade brought in some defeat in his voice. They look at one another before Rosie started crying. Sherlock immediately turned to her and John stepped closer. Their focus was on her and Mycroft stood the side, watching them caring for her. It was time he left. He needed the documents thought. On the other hand he can just let them take it the firm themselves, after all it was time. Using the envelope as a notepad he wrote 'Don't stab it against the wall!' leaving his pen there he slowly made his way out. John took out the bottle and handed it to Sherlock who looked up to saw his brother was gone, the front door opened and closed and he rushed to the window. He wanted to yell at his brother but what he saw stopped him. Mycroft stood in the middle of the pavement, his head bowed down. He looked up to the street before his shoulders sagged and then he turned around and walked away. There was no car, there was no security. Sherlock looked up and down the street, the cameras were steady, and not following him, there was no black car picking him up and no one following him at a distance. His brother was alone and unprotected. He wasn't wearing his suit, or his umbrella. A heavy weight fell on his shoulders. He couldn't figure out what that meant, the only thing that came to mind, was that his brother was what, demoted? Fired? That can't be. Not a man like Mycroft. When Rosie gave another yell he turned back to her, he could figure this out later.

Yesterday seems as though it never existed

Death greets me warm, now I will just say goodbye

Mycroft made his way home, the walk did him good and admittedly it was the only exercise he got in the last few days. He didn't worry about that anymore, it didn't matter.