"Are you absolutely certain you want to go?"

Sherlock sat in his armchair by the fire place in his flat. It was evening and he was home alone since John was at Mary's sorting out the last minute details for the wedding. It was only three weeks away. Sherlock was not actually alone, though. Well, King Arthur Pendragon and Merlin, the cats Sherlock rescued about a month ago sat curled up in John's chair, but it wasn't them he was on about.

"Yes, Mycroft. I want to go." Sherlock said with a slightly wavering voice. Sherlock wanted to go, he needed to go. There was no way he would miss the best day of his best friend's life.

"If you're sure. But if you want to leave at any time I'm sure John and Mary will understand. You can just send me a text and I'll be right there to pick you up."

"I know," Sherlock said, a small laugh escaping his lips before his smile fell. "I… I want them to know. I want to tell them I just- I…"

"…Don't know how?" Sherlock nodded, even if Mycroft couldn't see. Somehow his brother knew.

"Would you like me to do it? I don't mind. I was thinking of inviting them to Lunch on Tuesday to give them my wedding gift."

"Yes please." Sherlock never said please, for anything, ever. "The whole story… not just the short hand."

"Of course."

A smile, a genuine smile appeared on Sherlock's face as he wrapped himself up in his dressing gown to keep warm. The fire was dying. Arthur and Merlin seemed to notice his discomfort as they both crept up to Sherlock and curled up on the man's lap.

"Thank you, Mikey," Sherlock almost whispered.

"You're welcome, William. Love you, little brother."

"Love you, too." And he did. He loved his big brother with all his heart. He never really showed it, but he did.

As promised, Mycroft invited John and Mary to Lunch on Tuesday. They met up at Angelo's, where the chef in question greeted them all and said they could have anything they desired on the house. Mycroft liked Angelo. The conversation was gentle at first: talking about the wedding, about how things were going in each other's lives, and John even complimented Mycroft saying he was a great guy. Mycroft soon brought the sensitive subject onto show. He put his knife and fork down and wipe his mouth on the napkin, before turning to John and Mary who had both caught onto his sudden change of behaviour.

"Is everything alright, Mycroft?" John asked, putting his own knife and fork down. Mycroft took a deep breath before speaking.

"Sherlock may not be able to stay for the whole wedding."

Both Mary and John were confused, obviously. They probably assumed it was a case, but Mycroft distinctively remembered Sherlock saying he wasn't accepting any cases until after the wedding (especially since there would be no one to care for Arthur and Merlin)

"Why not? He sounded so excited yesterday when I spoke to him about it." Mary said. Here came the worst of it.

"It had nothing to do with you two," Mycroft insisted, reaching into his pocket to bring out a photograph. "Rather, with weddings in general."

John and Mary looked at the photograph when it was handed to them, and when Mycroft saw their eyes widen he knew what they had seen. It was a wedding photograph of many people, Mycroft was one of them. Directly in the middle next to the bride, wearing a brand new suit with a bow tie, white rose pinned to his suit jacket and a Victorian-esque hat atop his head was Sherlock Holmes himself. He and the bride were holding hands, whilst a little boy of merely four years old sat in his arms.

"The last wedding Sherlock ever went to had been the happiest day of his life." Mycroft spoke up, causing John and Mary to look up at him. He had his head bowed to look at his empty plate whilst his hands were linked together, as if he was praying.

"Her name's Lady Elizabeth Hanover, but Sherlock always called her Lilibet. She and Sherlock had known each other since they were children and Sherlock went to her mother's riding school. They went to the same school, University and worked together when Elizabeth joined the Yard as a Lawyer. She wasn't the heir to the family fortune, that went to her brother being the first born male heir, so Elizabeth had followed her passion for Law and Order. She was the reason Sherlock got where he is today. The little boy in their arms is Hamish, their son. Named after Elizabeth's grandfather. He had been born about a year after they had both left Cambridge, which is why they moved into Baker Street. Sherlock loved Elizabeth and Hamish more than anything in the world. When they left… he broke. "

"Why did they leave? What happened?" Mary asked. The photograph now sat in the middle of the table.

"Hamish had just turned six years old. Sherlock was on a case, been working it for a while, when Elizabeth announced her mother had invited them up to their Manor for the weekend. Knowing Sherlock was on a case she said she would explain to her mother why he wouldn't be there with them, and so Elizabeth and Hamish left for the country the next day." Taking a breath, Mycroft continued. "Their car spun on the ice, crashed into a tree. Neither survived."

Mycroft didn't look up; he knew what he would see. Either horror or sympathy. Probably a mix of both.

"He grieved for eternity, he still is. Sherlock loved them, and he lost them too soon. He keeps his ring on a chain around his neck, but he keeps hers in a little case in his bedside draw. Hamish's toys are in a chest at the end of his bed, but his hedgehog and otter both sit on the pillows."

Mary was crying by now. John had his head in his hands.

"I was there through it all. I'd been his best man at his wedding. He came to live with me for an entire year because going back to Baker Street was just too much for him. I paid his rent all the time he was with me. I… It was hard… It still is." Mycroft finally looked up at the fiancées, "He wants to be at the wedding, for you two. But I've told him if he wants to leave at any time during I will come and pick him up. Is this alright with yo-"

"Of course!" John interrupted. "If he wants to leave at any point he can, we would never force him to stay, especially not because of…" Mary rested a hand on the Doctor's shoulder as she dried her tears.

"Thank you, Mycroft, for telling us." She said, and Mycroft nodded.

"I think it's best if you two visit him at Baker Street." He replied, and this time it was John and Mary's turn to nod. They began gathering their things before Mycroft even had time to think.

At Baker Street, Sherlock sat in his chair once again. Arthur and Merlin were eating in the kitchen, something Sherlock should probably do soon, but right now he was occupied. He was occupied listening to a cd he had gotten from his room. It was a simple tune, Twinkle Twinkle Little Star, and it was bring played on the piano by an amateur. Sherlock just listened, staring into the fireplace.

"Daddy, Daddy! I won second place!"

"And next time you'll win first for sure! *Kissing noise* We miss you, William. We can't wait to see you home safe. Love you!"

"Bye Daddy! Love you! Bye!"

After the cd came to an end, Sherlock looked up. There, at the door to the flat, was John. He had heard everything, Sherlock knew. Sherlock stood up but before he could register anything, two strong arms had wrapped around him and Sherlock couldn't stop himself from melting into the hug. He knew. He knew everything. But Sherlock didn't care. It was nice that someone knew. Another set of arms soon joined, those of Mary. The three of them just stood there, and for the first time in a long time… everything seemed to be right with the world.

Mycroft watched from the door, just simply smiling.

Sherlock was lucky to have friends like that, friends who cared about him. But if you asked Sherlock, he would say he's lucky to have Mycroft for a big brother.