Mycroft sat on the chair, staring out of the window of the big ship, with his hands below his head in the usual Holmes prayer position. He looked around the room, it was empty for now but in an hour it would be filled with the world's most prestigious politicians, and one thing that he never expected.
Aliens.
Yes, in mere hours aliens will be welcomed to Earth and Mycroft could do nothing. He couldn't arrest the culprit, what's the point in arresting the prime minister when he had nearly everyone backing him? He couldn't stop the aliens. He could only try to save those he loved from the onslaught that was sure to come.
One good thing about being high up in the British Government was the fact that he was guaranteed a safe place where no-one could hurt him, except the prime minister, but he always claimed that he had reason. One bad thing was that no-one else was there. He missed his mother, she wasn't particularly strong and would probably be in the first lot to go. Mycroft found it hard to even think about her death so he skipped onto the next person he cared for. Okay, so he never acted fond of his younger brother but, truth was, he missed him.
Finally, he thought of the only person in the world that he truly wanted on board with him. Greg. Greg Lestrade.
He shut his eyes tight and held his breathing steady, he didn't know how long he sat there but when he heard the door open and he opened his own eyes the dark of the morning had turned to a bright sunny day.
"Mycroft! Up you get, big day today, lots to do." Mycroft heard the voice and immediately did an intake of breath before turning around and smiling at the man.
"Yes, Mr. Saxon. All the rooms are ready and all you need to do is go to get your clothes on, everything is sorted."
The man walked over to Mycroft, "Good."
They shook hands and the man began to turn away but Mycroft cleared his throat and held onto the prime ministers arm. "Are you sure there isn't room for one more on the Valient, sir? He would stay with me in my room and he would honestly be of no bother."
"I've already said, no. We have very important guests and a police man on board would give the completely wrong idea." He pulled his hand away and began to walk off again.
"Or the right idea, that you care about their safety and are putting in extra precautions."
"But I don't care about their safety." He laughed and the door to the elevator opened.
Harold Saxon stepped in and the doors closed with Mycroft stood there, the ship would go up in ten minutes and he could do nothing to get Greg on there with him.
He decided to focus on his mother, she would be the first one he called, then Sherlock, or John if he got no answer, Sherlock would never answer, even during the end of the world.
At that moment Mycroft jumped as his phone began to ring, he'd managed to make sure it didn't pick up the Archangel network, the prime minister could hear nothing of his calls.
incoming call: Martha Jones. |accept|decline|
"Martha, any news?" he said quickly as he looked around the room, making sure no-one was there with him.
"Yes, the Doctor's here and the president is getting onto the ship as we speak. We'll be there too, of course." Her voice came back and it sounded as if she was running.
"Martha, if you manage to get out then call me and I can help you." Mycroft commands, if she got out, which would happen if the Doctor got his way, then he would help her, if she found Sherlock and John, maybe even Greg.
"Yep, okay. Look, we have to go, we'll see you in a bit, and you hopefully won't see us, if everything goes to plan." The end of the phone went dead and Mycroft frowned, he needed to talk to the Doctor, not to Martha.
"Departure in T minus 10 minutes." The voice on the intercom said, "Will all executive staff and politicians make their way to the main flight deck to record the interviews and start the live countdown to the Toclafane."
Mycrofts grip tightened on his phone but he held on as he welcomed old friends to the room, he'd helped most of them get out of more than one devilish scandal and he held onto that as he welcomed them, held onto the fact that they all knew him and he wasn't truly alone.
But he was, Greg wasn't there. He was at home, in the house they shared together, watching TV and sipping from coffee.
Hours later, that's when it finally happened, when Harold Saxon finally stood up and welcomed the Toclafane.
Mycroft wasn't really listening, he sat there twiddling his thumbs until 6 words pulled him away from his own thoughts.
"Remove one tenth of the population!" He wanted to say something, but what could he. Greg would be in that tenth, he knew it when Harold gave him a wide grin, as if to say 'I have defeated you, now work for me.' He decided that later, when he was ringing people, he would leave Greg off the list, he couldn't bear to hear his answer phone because that would confirm it and that was the last thing he wanted.
He stood up from his seat and watched the slaughter unfold, he looked out of the window and down at planet Earth, he could almost hear the screams of everyone down there, he could almost feel the shivers run down his spine, but that was a sign of weakness, he held it back and stalked out of the room.
When he got out of the room he almost ran to his room, he had a room to himself and it was like a hotel room, only clean, and not nearly as grand as he was used to. "Mother? Pick up, come on, pick up!" He shouted down the phone as it rung, and rung. 8 times he did this before finally giving up. She's gone, he thought to himself. Who next?
"Sherlock? Are you okay? Is John? And Mrs Hudson are they all okay?" Sherlock picked up, this was new, something was wrong. He held the phone so tight to his ear that he feared he may dent his own head, as he listened for a reply.
It came out choked, and slightly delayed, but he spoke, all the same. "They killed him, Myc. They killed John."