Mycroft sat, watching Buddy the elf travelling through the candy cane forrest without seeing it. Mummy Holmes had chosen the movie, anyway. He was simply trying to survive to the end of the piece of drivel. It didn't help any that John and Sherlock were sat together on the nearby sofa, his brother looking the happiest he had been since he was a child.
Violet got up and looked out the window, shaking her head.
"Mummy, that's the third time in fifteen minutes that you've looked out the window," the government official said crossly. "Do sit down."
"I don't have to put up with that, young man," Mrs. Holmes said as she swatted at the back of his head on the way back to her seat. "I'm expecting something. It's rather last minute."
Mycroft rolled his eyes. "We're all adults here, even Sherlock. I'm sure if one of us has to wait a day or two for his present, no one will throw a strop."
"Myc, watch your attitude," Mr. Holmes warned.
Mycroft would have been happy to skip the entire Christmas season. It was his own fault, of course. He had called everthing off with Gregory Lestrade just over two months ago. He sighed. His parents had never even known about him let alone met him. He glanced at his brother, so happy with John. It was difficult not to be jealous. He tried, though, especially since Sherlock hadn't been the insufferable prick about his breakup with Gregory that Mycroft had expected.
As the movie played and the others joked around him, the government official lost himself in brooding over how great an idiot he had been for breaking up with Lestrade. If he could only go back in time and tell himself how miserable he would be, how much he would miss the DI...
The doorbell rang just as Mummy Holmes stood. "Myc, you're closest to the door. Go answer it."
"But Mummy..." Mycroft broke off at her glare and stood.
Violet pointed to the door. "Well, answer it. I have to check the oven."
The government official went to answer the door and play errand boy for his mother. When he opened the door, he was stunned to find Gregory Lestrade standing there. So stunned, in fact, that he froze. "Gregory."
The DI smiled nervously with his hands in his pockets. "Mycroft. Aren't you going to invite me in? Wish me Happy Christmas?"
Mycroft opened the door wide. "Yes. Yes, yes. Come in, Gregory." His heart was racing as he turned to introduce the DI to his parents. The living room was conspicuously empty. Without that mundane task to perform, he didn't know what to do or say.
"So, Mycroft... I've missed you," Greg said quietly.
"And I you. Terribly. I..." Mycroft wanted to apologise and explain his reasons for what he had done, but they would sound so strange to someone normal like Gregory.
"I think I understand. At least a bit." Lestrade offered. "That rot Sherlock always used to talk about caring not being an advantage and the way he used to sneer at sentiment. He learned that from you, didn't he?"
The government official nodded, struck completely mute.
"You didn't learn that from your parents, I don't think." Greg took his hands from his pockets and made an abortive move to take Mycroft's hand. "I don't think you came up with it to gain power, to become, what was it your brother called it, the Ice Man. I think someone hurt you and hurt you badly."
Mycroft looked at Gregory with wide eyes. "You talked to Sherlock about me?"
"Only enough to know that you have been as miserable as I have. He hasn't told me anything specific, if that's what you mean." Lestrade waited, holding his breath to see how Mycroft would react.
"I see." Mycroft looked down at the floor. "If I concede that you're right about certain things... but no, you could never forgive me. What I did was unforgivable."
Greg reached out and tipped Mycroft's chin up. "Running because you were afraid? It's understandable."
Mycroft's eyes flashed and he pulled away. "I'm not supposed to get afraid! I worked in the field. I make the difficult decisions no one wants to make. I don't flinch! But when it came down to the biggest decision of my life? I acted on fear. I hurt you. That's unforgivable."
"It's really not," the DI disagreed. He stepped closer and captured both of the government official's hands in his own. "I know because you're forgiven. This is Christmas. If you still want me, want us, you have it. Just say the word."
Tears welled up in Mycroft's eyes for the first time since he had been a child. "It's not that easy."
"No, it's not. We'll have to talk, but we can do that another day. But most important, I need you to promise me no more running away. If we do this, we do it." Greg squeezed Mycroft's hands tight.
The government official wrapped his arms around Lestrade and held on like he would never let go again. "That's a promise made." He pulled back and smiled at Gregory through watery eyes. "Now, would you like to meet the rest of the family?"
The DI smiled. "Of course. And Mycroft, " Greg brought Mycroft's knuckles up to his lips and kissed them, "Happy Christmas."