Who would have ever thought that a day like this could turn into something so horrible and big that it would forever be remembered as the beginning? At the time, none of the people in London would have been able to explain how it happened. And yet, when Gregory looked back and thought about it in the way Mycroft would, he saw the signs and blamed himself for not having seen it earlier.

A sunny day like any other, a sunny and sultry morning. Sunday. As good as no clouds covered the blue sky, people walking around without their coats and brollies. It was no surprise that everyone saw the strange pair walking down the street, careful not to be too close, but even a fool would have been able to see what the truth behind their 'flatmate' cover was. Gregory's fingers were twitching to grasp Mycroft's hand, but they both knew it was impossible and therefore he didn't. He didn't lean in to kiss Mycroft's cheek, didn't reach out to stroke his hair and to comb it with his fingers until it would be curly and wild again.

Both knew what they felt would be considered wrong, but here they were, walking around like best friends, even if in truth they did not only share a flat but also a bed.

People had better things to think about than the two men. Where ever they passed a café or a bigger group of citizens surrounding a kiosk, all Gregory could hear was one single subject.

Would war come to Britain?

And while Mycroft assured him that he would be informed the moment it happened, even before it would be announced and before everyone else would have a real reason to be worried, Gregory knew what could happen should this threat become real. He was a police officer, not a soldier, knew how to use a gun but not how to best hide in a trench or how to know who was enemy and who was civilian.

He didn't worry about himself, he would find a way to survive all this. But Mycroft, his Mycroft, was no man of war. He never held a gun in his hand, never had to directly kill someone with the knowledge that this man had children and a woman waiting for him at home. Mycroft was a thinker, a Holmes and his position could save him from many things, but Lestrade feared that even his influence would not save him from the national service.

Mycroft left him a few minutes later to go into his office and Gregory made his way back home. It was a simple little flat somewhere close to the centre of London, almost too tiny to be shared by two men, but they wouldn't complain. Mycroft could have bought a bigger house, even an estate. But that would have drawn attention to them, attention that Gregory wasn't willing to let happen.

They needed to stay as hidden as possible, even though they were both very well known people in London. Gregory was recognised as a DI and while no one knew the title of Mycroft's position, they knew he was a politician and therefore dangerous. Gregory wanted nothing more than to stand on a car or roof to scream out that he was together with Mycroft Holmes, that they were a couple and that they kissed, had sex and that he didn't give a fuck about the opinions of others.

But Mycroft did, have to. So Greg would silently accept that Mycroft wore a wedding band to give the impression of being a married man, that he sometimes stood close to his assistant just to make people think they were married. Even if it hurt and even if Gregory got jealous despise the soothing words his partner would say to him once they were alone in their flat, the curtains covering the windows and almost every light turned off, he accepted that he would never be able to call Mycroft his and his only.

Gregory settled himself on the small couch they owned, a bottle of Mycroft's scotch in his hand and a file he had to read in the other. Work was hard in the last few days. People came to him worrying about their life, worrying about their loved ones who were out of the county. Gregory was worried on his own, but pushed those feelings away in order to do his job. He helped people find their family in demonstrations people did on the street; cuffed murderers, thieves and rapists.

He hated it. He hated every second he had to spend out there with the knowledge that nasty things could happen. Everyone was worried, civilians leaving the city even if their Prime Minister Chamberlain assured them that Britain was safe, that they had nothing to fear. They stored food and clothes in preparation for a war and attack. The two men had turned the only spare-room they had into a larder just in case.

And while everyone was close to panic, Mycroft was the calmest person Gregory had ever seen.

When the DI would sit on the couch and listen to the news in the radio, trying not to think about the possibility of a war, Mycroft would come to him, take him in his arms and assure his lover that nothing would happen to them. When Gregory would come home from work to see the politician sitting there, looking tired and exhausted with his empty hands clutched around nothing like he was holding a pen, Mycroft would smile at him and push every fear away to take Gregory in his arms again.

It was clear something was bothering him. Mycroft never told Gregory about his work, only that he had meetings but not what they were about. It was… frustrating. Gregory told his lover everything, all the cases and how he had to shoot someone to save the victim. He knew that Mycroft's work was more important and that the things the politicians talked about had to stay confident, but was it too much asked to at least know something? How was he supposed to help his boyfriend without knowing what it all was about?

All he could do was watch as the work slowly made Mycroft sleepless, he couldn't do anything when the younger man stood up in the night to sit at his desk and quietly talk to his assistant on the phone. The threat of war, the problems all around Europe, they rendered him tired, exhausted, stressed and put a huge weight on Mycroft's shoulders.

Gregory drank a sip of the scotch, grimacing as the alcohol burnt down his throat, the familiar feeling of warmth spreading through him as he drank another and another, quickly losing count. He wouldn't get drunk, he was unbearable in that condition and Mycroft needed someone to cling onto, not a drunk man to calm down.

He placed the half-empty bottle on the table and leant back, sighing. Even though Mycroft and he had the intention to stop smoking, he still stood up to get the lighter and a cigarette. They were expensive, but Mycroft had enough money to pay their unhealthy and deadly addiction. Many people were buying cigarettes and alcohol to forget their worries, to have an evening without silence cutting into their souls like knives.

Everyone was waiting for the sound of bombs being dropped on London.

The door opened and Gregory was able to hear the tapping sound Mycroft's brolly made. His lover must be tired, perhaps even annoyed. Gregory certainly had no idea how he must have felt with Hitler having unleashed the Blitzkrieg by letting his forces swarm across the Polish border. The DI had no idea how far Mycroft had been involved in the events, but he knew that everything would change.

It would be foolish to believe that Britain had nothing to fear. Only an idiot would say no one would dare to attack Britain, that no one would try to invade it. They had seen what Hitler was capable of and they all knew that war never ended without victims on all sides. But everyone closed their eyes to ignore the looming troubles. Everyone proceeded living their normal lives, criminals and ordinary citizens alike.

Mycroft sat down next to him, leaning down to let his headrest on Gregory's in a tired gesture of defeat. Gregory pursed his lips, the questions he wanted to ask lingering on his tongue and in his mind. And yet, he didn't, just wrapped his arm around Mycroft's shoulder, keeping the taller man close as he let out a long and desperate sigh.

"Turn the radio on, love," Mycroft whispered and buried his face in Gregory's neck, inhaling air deeply and more quickly than normal. "Turn it on. Now."

It was 11:15 when it began. The regular radio broadcasts were interrupted, the voice of their Prime Minister began speaking. It hadn't even begun, but the horror made Gregory freeze and tense at the same time, Goosebumps spread out over his body. He could feel that Mycroft was starting to shake and pulled him into his lap, wrapping his arms tightly around him.

"I am speaking to you from the Cabinet Room at 10, Downing Street. This morning the British Ambassador in Berlin handed the German Government a final note stating that unless we heard from them by 11 o'clock that they were prepared at once to withdraw their troops from Poland, a state of war would exist between us."

Gregory could practically hear the gasps and see the eyes going wide of those who were listening. He could feel the fear rushing through them, their heartbeats getting faster. He clung onto Mycroft, knowing what would come. Not wanting to believe it, but he knew that Mycroft wouldn't be shaking like this if it was nothing but a fake or sick joke.

"I have to tell you now that no such undertaking has been received, and that consequently this country is at war with Germany. You can imagine what a bitter blow it is to me that my entire struggle to win peace has failed."

He lowered his head, nuzzling Mycroft's neck as the words were spoken. All the stress from the days before were finally getting the better of him, a headache beginning to hurt behind his eyes, tears rushing into them as the thought hit him, the realisation that it would begin.

"Yet I cannot believe that there is anything more or anything different that we could have done that would have been more successful. Up to the very last it would have been quite possible to have arranged a peaceful and honourable settlement between Germany and Poland."

Mycroft snorted. It had been a quiet, almost not audible sound, but Gregory had noticed it. Who had written those lines for the Prime Minister? How long had Mycroft known it and had to keep it a secret from everyone, even from the only person he trusted? Was this the reason he had forced his brother to move to the US with his flatmate, Doctor Watson, and not the fact that they apparently were more open to homosexuals?

What had he had to suffer through?

"But Hitler would not have it. He had evidently made up his mind to attack Poland whatever happened; and although he now says he put forward reasonable proposals, which were rejected by the Poles, that is not a true statement. The proposals were never shown to the Poles nor to us; and though they were announced in the German broadcast on Thursday night, Hitler did not wait to hear comments on them, but ordered his troops to cross the Polish frontier the next morning. His action convincingly demonstrates that there is no chance of expecting that this man will ever give up his practice of using force to achieve his goals. He can only be stopped by force and we and France are today, in fulfilment of our obligations, going to the aid of Poland, who is so bravely resisting this wicked and unprovoked attack upon her people."

"We're at war, aren't we, My? We are at war."

Mycroft looked up to meet Gregory's eyes, his own shining with something close to fear and forced calmness. He only nodded once, turning his head to look at the radio as the Prime Minister made a pause. Gregory knew everyone was waiting. Children were asking their parents what this was about, the women burying their faces into their husbands' shoulders as they waited. People stopping their work, all stunned in a deadly silence.

Everything was quiet, awaiting the next words. All cars outside had stopped, the engines turned off. The sun shone down on them as if to lighten their mood up, yet everyone knew it would not happen.

"We have a clear conscience. We have done all that any country could do to establish peace, but a situation in which the word of Germany's ruler cannot be trusted and no people or country can feel safe had become intolerable. And now that we have resolved to finish it, I know that you will all play your part with calmness and courage."

"What will happen?"

"They will prepare London and Britain for a war. Knowing that the civilians will panic, that they will buy and try to save as much food and vital objects. And they will fight, even if it will cost hundreds of lives."

Gregory could only hold Mycroft close. His hand caressed his lover's hair, playing with the soft curls, which had been forced down in the morning. He looked at the clock. How everything could change within a few minutes with only a few words. How a perfect day could be destroyed like this.

"At such a moment as this the assurances of support that we have received from the Empire are a source of profound encouragement to us. When I have finished speaking certain detailed announcements will be made on behalf of the Government. Give them your close attention. The Government has made plans under which it will be possible to carry on the work of the nation in the days of stress and strain that may be ahead. But these plans need your help. You may be taking part in the Fighting Services or as a Volunteer in one of the branches of Civil Defence. If so, you will report for duty in accordance with the instructions you receive. You may be engaged in work essential to the war effort or to the maintenance of life of the people—in factories, in transport, in public utility concerns or in the supply of other necessities of life. If so, it is of vital importance that you should carry on with your jobs."

Gregory closed his eyes as he felt tears running over his cheek. Mycroft just lay in his arms, his body still and having stopped shaking. Deadly silence. Nothing. No cries, no screams, no sobbing. It was like the whole world had stopped to listen to those words.

"Now may God bless you all and may He defend the right. For it is evil things that we shall be fighting against, brute force, bad faith, injustice, oppression and persecution. And against them I am certain that the right will prevail."

I've always wanted to write a story in which the characters are living in the past and WW2 is, while being and having been used several times already, the one I know the most about. I hope you will enjoy this fanfiction, because I plan on making it as long as possible.

Thanks to SilentEyedKat for beta-reading this.