Hey there again! Ritsui here. I'm back with another story and I hope you'll enjoy it.
Disclaimer! I DO NOT own Sherlock, BBC PBS and MofTiss do.
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Ritsui out!
Give me one chance
12/09/2014
8:45
The sun streamed through velvet red curtains and washed over two figures, sleeping silently in a king-sized bed. One of them started to move, waking the other in the process.
"Mycroft, love, I have to go to work."
"...Okay," came the reply, muffled by the pillow he was buried in. Gregory swiftly climbed out of the bed and dressed in haste.
"See you, love."
He kissed Mycroft's forehead and dashed away.
"Bye..." Mycroft smiled. He was happy, nothing could be better. The night before Greg had proposed to him, and he had accepted.
When he got up, he sang while changing into a fresh suit, getting ready for work.
"Congratulations, sir," said Anthea by way of greeting. She must have seen the golden ring on his finger.
"Thank you, Anthea." And together they headed off to their office in the Diogenes Club.
12/09/2014
10:40
Mycroft was doing some paperwork when his phone chimed with a text. He picked it up, expecting it to be from Greg. After reading the text, he dropped his phone in horror and dashed out of the Club into the rain, Anthea shouting after him.
He ignored her as well as the fact that he had forgotten his umbrella.
12/09/2014
10:34
Greg, Sherlock, John and Sally sprinted down the alley chasing two criminals accused of burglary and attempted murder. The criminals separated, Greg went after the smallest and the other three went after the biggest.
Greg arrived at a dead end but did not see the burglar. He pulled out his gun. And just as he did so, a hand came out of nowhere and knocked his gun away. The burglar picked it up and pointed it at Greg.
"I could just run away..."
Greg knew what was coming, his heart froze and time slowed as he heard the safety go off.
"But that wouldn't be any fun, would it?"
Greg closed his eyes when he saw the man was about to pull the trigger.
I'm sorry, Mycroft.
BANG!
12/09/2014
10:42
Mycroft ran as fast as he could through the streets of London, knowing exactly where to go. He was soaked to the bone but he found that he did not care.
He arrived at St. Bart's in record time and sprinted up the stairs to the room where Gregory was waiting.
Greg Greg Greg Greg was all he could think about.
When he arrived, everyone was already there. Sherlock had his head bowed in defeat, John was slouched on the floor, head in his hands, Sally was sobbing uncontrollably, and Anthea simply whispered with a grim look on her face: "I'm so sorry, sir..."
He looked through the window. There lay Gregory, white as the hospital sheets, impossibly still, a bandage around his chest as red as a fully blossomed rose. The machine showed a flat line. Mycroft could hear its long beep in his ears.
Gregory was dead.
Mycroft screamed and the world around him shattered like glass. Not figuratively, literally. He looked around, confused as the shards fell around him like rain and a white void opened up and enveloped him. What was happening?
02/12/2013
14:08
Mycroft looked around, trying to get his bearings. He was in a café, but not just any café. This was the café where Gregory had asked him out for the first time. He looked around and found a mirror and what he saw shocked him beyond bounds.
He wasn't there. He moved closer to the mirror, still he was not there. No, this had to be a memory he was reliving because when he turned around, he saw the scene of Gregory asking him out all over again. He watched himself blink in surprise then grin wildly and nod enthusiastically before Greg kissed him.
He reached out for Greg, wanting to caress his face, which was, in real time, in his time, pale and cold. He found that he could not, and the memory broke into shards.
11/09/2014
19:00
This memory, he remembered it vividly. It struck him in the heart like a train going at full speed.
It was Gregory when he proposed to him.
It had happened only last night.
He could only watch, crying silently, as Greg got down on one knee in front of the memory him and produce a small black box that appeared seemingly out of nowhere, and showed him the ring, all the while saying: "Mycroft... Will you marry me?" Mycroft had thrown himself in his arms. And the memory burst into shards once more.
12/09/2014
10:27
This time, it wasn't a memory he was in. This was real. He looked at his watch,10:27. Gregory would get shot and die in a matter of minutes. Life had given him just one more chance and he wasn't going to waste it.
He immediately checked the CCTV to see where the gang was and he quickly pinpointed the dead end Sherlock had mentioned in the text he would have normally received 13 minutes from now. He ran off, warning Anthea not to follow him. He ran and ran and ran. At 10:34exactly, he found Gregory and the gun was already trained on him, safety off. It was too late, there was only one thing left to do.
"GREGORY!"
12/09/2014
10:34
"I could just run away..."
He heard the safety go off, this was it.
"But that wouldn't be any fun, would it?"
He saw the man starting to pull the trigger.
"GREGORY!"
Greg turned his head at the shout, and his eyes widened in horror as a vision of the next few seconds flew though his mind.
Oh no.
"Mycroft, no!"
Too late.
The trigger was pulled and Mycroft jumped in front of Greg and suddenly tumbled to the ground, his hand gripping his chest. The burglar scattered off only to be tackled by John a minute later.
"Mycroft!"
Greg cradled his lover's head in his lap as he tried to stop the red flowing out of the hole in his chest.
"G-Greg..." he chocked out.
"Life gave me another chance and I took it. I knew this would happen, the other time I had just arrived a little too late. And I know that you can live on without me. Yes, you will be heart-broken but you will live on, unlike me. I would lose my heart and wouldn't have the will to live. Because, you know us Holmeses... We aren't exactly people's favourite acquaintance, much less a friend... Let alone a date." Greg chuckled.
"So basically, you time travelled?"
"And I created a paradox."
Greg smiled sadly.
"Thank you, Mycroft."
Mycroft smiled and spoke his last words.
"Just don't forget me, okay? 'Cause I certainly won't."
"I'll always remember you, Mycroft. I love you."
"And I you."
Something disappeared from the stormy grey-blue eyes as he let out his last breath and slowly closed his eyes. The rest were watching the two of them from afar, all crying quietly on the outside while screaming loudly on the inside. They all gasped when Mycroft's body unexpectedly broke into not shards, but flower petals that soared high up into the sky and disappeared forever more...
14/09/2014
11:55
The funeral had been a quiet one. Not many people, just the important ones in Mycroft's life. Mummy Holmes, Sherlock, John, Anthea, a few from Scotland Yard, the representative of the Queen, and Greg.
Greg had refused to give a speech. Sherlock and Mummy Holmes had done the same.
Gregory was the last to leave. On the tomb stone he left a single red rose petal that broke into shards and fell scattered across the ground.
25/12/2014
It was Christmas. John and Sherlock were cuddled up together near the fireplace, exchanging a kiss or two here and there.
Sherlock's phone rang with the 'God save the Queen' ringtone. That ringtone was reserved specifically for Mycroft's number, who was – as normal people were – dead.
Sherlock picked it up and showed the message to John.
'Come and check my grave. -MH'
When they had both finished reading, the message disappeared and the phone was back on the main screen.
Looking at each other, they scrambled from the couch, pulled on their coats and scarves and marched into the snow, heading for Mycroft's grave.
When they arrived, they looked sadly at one another before looking back at the grave.
Slouched against the tombstone lay Greg, pale as a ghost. He was wrapped in his coat and looked soundly asleep. But he was not, Sherlock had deduced that he was dead for at least three days and that he had died from hunger, thirst, and cold.
A grave for Greg was made next to Mycroft's, and over the years a small olive tree grew between the tombstones, linking them together, and a single rose twirled around the small tree.
Epilogue
At the age of 54, Sherlock Holmes left the living world and joined his brother and his husband on an endless journey. John Watson followed not long after.
Anthea became the most powerful member of the British Government and was given the right to name a hospital. She named the building 'The Holmesian Rose Hospital', and the four wings Sherlock, Mycroft, John, and Gregory. She also named a military base 'Watson Army Camp'. And a street she named 'Lestrade Boulevard'. Maybe she overdid it a bit, but she regretted nothing. She died of leukaemia at the age of 61.
Sally made a career as one of the greatest Detective Inspectors Scotland Yard had ever had, but she died in a bomb incident two days after Sherlock died at the age of 54.
Together, the six of them will follow an endless path to start a new journey. Mycroft and John will be the best of friends on an old ranch in Tennessee. Sherlock will be a famous actor from England, Greg will be a zoo-keeper in Australia, Anthea will be a famous burglar in Russia, and Sally will become the world's only Consulting Detective. The six of them, scattered across the world and with completely different personalities, will all meet again at one point, and only at that moment Life will grant them something no one has ever gotten before...
They will remember.
They will remember who they were, what had happened and what they had become.
And they will start from where they had left off.
And the cycle will go on and on and on...