A LOSING BATTLE

TAB still has me still swept up in emotions, so we have this thing here.

Also dedicated to Blood-Sucker-1428 who I often feel is my Mycroft person. Thanks dear. I hope you enjoy this.

I hope you all enjoy this.

much love,

day

It was a little known fact that the Holmes brothers tried to hide their feelings from the world out of fear of getting hurt or being judged. Or maybe that was something that the people closest to them observed. Anthea had definitely noticed it from both brothers.

To be fair, they were both horrible at hiding it. They would claim otherwise but she had seen them. Because of this it came to no surprise when she decided to drop by Mycroft's place to check on him. He did his best wallowing there. It was the perfect place - it was away from people which in itself was the best place. If he tried to go to the office he'd more than likely be bothered.

It probably helped that he hadn't tried to talk to anyone for a solid day after dealing with his brother and the plan of what's to come. She had been there for that. It had been almost normal but she didn't miss the slight drop in his bright attitude. Sherlock had the habit of exhausting his older brother to the point of worrying the other people that associated with him; Anthea more closely.

What she found in the sitting room made her frown. The older brother was just sitting there staring ahead lost in his thoughts and clearly trying to grasp at a battle that he was desperate to win. He was losing.

"Mr. Holmes." She called, she stayed exactly three feet away from him as to not startle him. He flinched anyways as he came out of his trance and looked at her. He drew a hand over his face as if trying to wake up.

"What are you doing here, my dear?"

Anthea put her bag on the empty seat and stowed her hands in her pockets as she stared at him. "You're worrying people." Mycroft didn't care about people or what they thought and she knew this. It was just easier to say it then bring up a different conversation that was less pressing to her right now.

He didn't say anything. She assumed it was out of fear of how he would sound since she came right out with it. They didn't doddle. He should know that. Directness was the best course of action. Even when dealing with fragile states such as this. Especially because of it. It was him.

She watched his body raise as he took in a deep breath. "I suppose I should be used to it by now." He paused before gesturing for her to sit down. She placed her bag near her feet as she lowered into the chair, her eyes never leaving his person. She had eyes like a hawk, it's why she was good at her job. It helped in situations like this too, though he would deny it. Right now he didn't want to think of what she could possibly be thinking of him. He must look so human.

"Sherlock continuing to be himself, you suddenly being here as if I haven't a clue in the world."

"A clue about what?"

"You've talked to them. The Watsons. How else could you possibly know?" He stopped abruptly as he looked up at her from his hands that were fisting into balls repeatedly.

Anthea let out a small sigh, pulling the elastic from her hair so that it could roam free. She needed to deal with this with careful hands. At the same time she knew that there was only one way to get him to back off. He was starting to look less tortured and more maniac. It was better to reign that in control before he turned into this brother. They didn't need two of them.

It was a funny thought but she rather not have two high functioning geniuses doing idiotic things because they were mad at the world for the hands they were dealt. In turn she decided to let him know how she someone who was always there in the background felt about things. He valued her opinion, he would take it now regardless. "I know you, Mycroft Holmes." Gone were the sirs,and the 'Mister Holmes.' They were friends. She owed him to be as real as she could right now.

He gave an inquisitive look. "You too have tells, and I saw all three in our battle meeting with Sherlock and his friends. Molly Hooper had the same struggle I saw after realizing that your brother slipped off the wagon again. But, that's not what's bothering you. I mean it is, but that's not what's getting to you the most. Sherlock pushed you away. To any sibling that would hurt."

"You're silly, Miss Jameson. I don't get hurt that easily."

He was very defensive today. It was his way of trying to combat the pain that he was feeling. Anthea nodded in his direction even though she wasn't in complete agreement with what he said. "You're wrong you know, you do hurt. You get hurt the most when your brother does something that you either disapprove of or affects you in some way. Yesterday he did the latter."

Mycroft sat there waiting for whatever else his assistant was going to throw at him. Anthea didn't come to him until she knew exactly how she was going to deal with him. Not even when it hurt one of them. Today it was his turn to feel the blows. So he decided to take it, at least for the next couple minutes until he had gathered his wits about him and answer her claims.

Instead of piling it on, Anthea stopped there. "Nothing else?"

She gave him one of her smiles. "There isn't anything else to say."

Mycroft sniffed. "How about how I shouldn't let it crush me that my brother continues to do this to me? How I can't keep feeling this way over someone who doesn't give a damn about me?" While I was in the midst of his ranting Anthea had reached over and placed her hand over his - the one that he wasn't moving around in his usual gestures - that was planted firmly on his knee.

"Stop." She ordered, staring at him with a look of utter sadness. "You Holmes boys are so ridiculous." He started to negate this claim but she just talked over him. "He cares about you, you obviously care about him. You just don't say it. Maybe he likes to do it when you aren't surrounded by your friends or maybe Sherlock doesn't want to feel like you do. Feelings are wrong, you taught him that. He's your brother and you care about him. There's nothing wrong with that, Mycroft."

"And yet Anthea," He breathed out her name like it was fresh air, "he pushed me away."

If anyone asked her to describe what the elder Holmes brother looked like in that moment she wouldn't be able to. He had tears in his eyes. This hurt was worse than anything you could get from a scorned lover. They had both experienced those woes, and come back from it. This was different. It was going to take longer to get back from it.

Anthea applied pressure to his hand. She couldn't form the right words to fix this but she planned to be here for as long as it took for him to realize that he didn't have to shoulder the burden alone. This is what they did for each other. Mycroft might not be as obvious about it but maybe he needed a little direct affection to wade the war.

"I'll make you some tea, okay?" Mycroft nodded but she didn't think he noticed that she got up.

He had. He felt the loss of the warm and stern grasp she had on his hand. It was strangely welcomed. He imagined if it was anybody else he would have shoved them aside. He didn't like to be touched.

When she came back a few minutes later carrying only one cup of tea, he gave her a look. "You aren't drinking?"

Anthea tucked her hair to the side as she sat back down. She had grin of mischief on her face again when she told him, "I had something stronger before I came." She clearly wasn't drunk but the idea that she had had a shot of her favorite bourbon before coming to see him brought a smile to his face as he sipped his tea.

He affected her. How could he forget?

He looked down at his knee for a moment.

Well, perhaps it was a mutual affection.

Once he had finished his tea he spared her another glance. He felt a little awkward about what he was about to do but it was the least he could do considering what she chose to do for him. "Thank you, Miss Jameson."

Anthea waved it off, looking sheepish. "No problem, sir." She slipped back into professional mode.

He blinked at her. Just like that. He supposed he liked her that way.