A/N: I just had this thought for an angsty little one-shot. I might do something more with it one day... but for now, it stands alone.
Once again, the two Holmes brothers were standing on the tarmac, waiting for the plane that would swallow one of them on its maws, taking him on a mission far from home. Once again, the return of the exiled was far from assured.
This time, however, no one else came to bid the exiled one farewell. He had been forbidden from making further contact with his work associates. He had never engaged in friendships; in fact, he derided the concept. Why should one engage in sentimental attachments, if all hearts would be broken in the end? Nor had he invested himself in a romantic relationship; all lives end, and one of them was sure to be left broken and alone.
His family? Family is complicated, as his brother claimed. His parents claimed to love him, yet his relationship with them was never smooth. At the moment, it was more strained than ever before. While trying to be kind, he had betrayed them, deceived them. They had left him in fury, and he had not yet heard a single word from them.
Yet his brother was there. And wasn't that a wonder; the one who had always most despised him, was standing there like a rock, strong and solid, not budging from his side.
"You'll need to behave yourself for now," he told his little brother. "I won't be able to grant you any favors, should you find yourself in a pickle."
"I don't need your help," came the aggrieved response, almost on the automatic.
"I truly hope you will not," he answered in his most condescending tone, belying the worry he felt. He hoped that his little brother would prove his own words true. The most terrifying act of his banishment was his powerlessness in watching over his baby brother, as he had done for the past forty years.
"This can't be right," Little Brother murmured, his tone as bewildered and hurt the hundredth time he said it as the first. "They can't just send you away. You're the British Government, for goodness sake! England will fall, I just know it."
"England has, for centuries, managed just fine without me," Big Brother answered nonchalantly, as he had ninety-nine times before.
"Mr. Holmes," came the voice of the pilot. "You may board the plane now."
"Mycroft," Little Brother grasped his sleeve. "Come back. Soon." His voice sounded as scared as it had that day he had pretended to jump off a roof.
He didn't answer. There was no promise he could make that he truly believed in. He didn't want to leave his brother with another lie to blame on him.
He merely held out his hand, in the formal style signaling a handshake. To his astonishment, and a bit of horror, Little Brother ignored it, and instead threw his arms around him. Big Brother tentatively patted his back.
"I believe in you," the exiled one murmured to the younger man."You'll do fine."
The younger one disengaged from the embrace, and looked his brother in the eye. "And I believe in you. You will find a way to come back. You only need to remember that I'll be waiting for you."
"It might take a while," he answered, his voice strained by the effort of containing his emotions.
"I'll still be waiting. For as long as it takes."
With those parting words, the brothers were separated, one to fly away to an unknown destiny, and another to go brave a new life without his Guardian Angel constantly watching over him.