AN: This ended up being longer than I thought. I hope you like it.
One of the things Mycroft tried to do more than anything was to please his mother. It seemed like an impossible task to Greg. And these last family revelations had shed some light on why. Every time Mycroft went to see his parents he came back doubting himself. Greg was starting to puzzle this together. Mycroft had been the one taking much of the responsible for his siblings, even if his mother was smart she did not understand any of her children. He had in many ways done more of the parenting for them through the years than their parents thought necessary. Mycroft had been watching them when Victor disappeared, Greg had still not gotten the hang on where their parents were. Eurus had been the proper wonder child, even after killing someone and burning down the house. And when she was dead she could be idolised no matter what. Sherlock had not really been the baby, but intellectually and emotionally he was. He was the one who needed all the love and protection, and when his sister killed his best friend how can anyone compensate for that? Greg sat down on Mycroft's side of the bed with a cup of tea. Mycroft was pretending to be asleep, but Greg knew better. But at least he had been sleeping, for the first week it had been impossible to get Mycroft to sleep more than an hour or two fluxing between wanting to be held and being left alone. Greg traced the lines of Mycroft's neck, letting his fingers travel along his exposed collarbones. A smile ghosted over Mycroft's lips. "Are you sure you want to do this at the office?" Mycroft opened his eyes and looked up at his lover.
"Yes, I just need to keep some control and I am the boss in my office." Mycroft rolled his shoulders stretching his back.
"I think you can be the boss of any room you step into." Greg had seen it many times, he had even seen Mycroft walk into his crime scene and suddenly be the boss. Mycroft tried not to do that anymore, probably just to avoid a fight at home.
"Ah, but with Sherlock in the room, who is really the boss?" Sherlock was never really the boss, he was just impossible to ignore.
"That's like saying who is really the boss with an infant in the room. It's the baby, but only by terror." Mycroft laughed. "I made you tea."
"You are the most wonderful boyfriend."
"Good, 'cos you are stuck with me." Mycroft had not been back to his house or the club since the night Greg had picked him up, this might be the beginning of living together. The thought had at least crossed Greg's mind. Mycroft pulled Greg down for a kiss, spilling surprisingly little tea in the process.
"I love you so much." The tenderness in the kiss was much more than either of them had expected.
"I love you too. We have to get going soon. Victoria is dying to see you, even if she doesn't want you back at work yet." It had taken Greg a long time to get the assistants real name, she had been through most of the alphabet before she realised he wasn't going anywhere.
"Do you two talk about me?" Mycroft raised an eyebrow.
"No, we text. You spend all day with the woman, and you think I don't talk to her?"
"Is this a jealous trait?" Mycroft tried not to smile. If Mycroft was interested in woman Victoria was probably the type of woman who could have interested Mycroft.
"No, it's a 'knowing you are safe' trait. If I trusted you less I would be jealous of everyone. Get ready, I'll make breakfast." Greg was glad he wasn't the jealous type. Greg moved to get up, but stopped as Mycroft spoke.
"I don't really think I can eat."
"You had breakfast before you organised peace talks last month, you are having breakfast today."
"I'm feeling a lot more nauseous about today then I was then."
"I promise it will be fine, no matter what happens we'll get through. And Sherlock might be useful for ones." Greg kissed him again. "Time to get ready."
Breakfast had been a good idea, even if Mycroft didn't like to admit it. It was what Mycroft did when he felt out of control, controlled his food. Greg drove, mostly because he though Mycroft might disrepair if he got the chance. As they stood in the elevator Greg decided it was time to get Mycroft's mind to remember that this meeting with Sherlock and his parents was not the be all end all. "What do you want to do after?"
"After?" Mycroft looked confused as his mind raced to find out what came after this.
"Yeah, I'm not going to work, you are definitely not staying at the office. So we can go out and do something, or we can go home and curl up in bed for the rest of the day."
"You are trying to distract me." Mycroft turned to face the other man.
"I think I'm trying to get you into bed again, or take you out and then get you to bed." Mycroft definitely cracked a smile.
"Maybe we'll go for dinner, it depends on…" Mycroft trailed off and looked away.
"Your mother I guess."
"Can you just think about after and not about my mother please." Their eyes met again.
"I will, if you remember that her opinion isn't the only ting that matters." The elevator doors slid open and a smiling Victoria welcomed them.
"Welcome Sir, Greg."
"Victoria. When did you two become so familiar?" Mycroft seldom saw them together. She dropped Mycroft of and sometimes she picked up Greg, that should have been all. He had obviously not been paying attention.
"To be honest, when she decided to do a background check by breaking into my flat." Mycroft looked startled, how had he not known? He was getting too comfortable with the two, feeling he didn't need to deduce their every move.
"You are being dramatic. At least I didn't kidnap you like the boss did." The woman smiled, her phone still in her hand.
"Victoria." Mycroft tried to look stern. "And I did Greg's background check."
"I didn't really think you were unbiased in your judgement." Mycroft rolled his eyes. "I'm glad to see you back, and I will be glad not to see you back until your leave is over." Two weeks they hoped could be managed without him, but then again there was a possibility he would have to get back earlier. It had been a lot easier for Greg to get his two weeks.
"We're keeping her." Greg whispered into Mycroft's ear. After Marry died Sherlock had told them that he was just as bad with unhappy families as he was with the concept of happy families. Greg had realised that the Mycroft was even worse, he had lived with everything Sherlock had suppressed. So he decided they should have their own family. One with no bullies for Mycroft to disappoint, even if Sherlock would be staying no matter what. Mycroft would to anything to keep Sherlock safe, and that wouldn't change.
"Thank you, Victoria, I'm glad you are keeping everything in hand." Victoria glanced down at her phone.
"Your parents just arrived downstairs, but Sherlock is another 5 minutes away." Mycroft grimaced, of course, they were early and Sherlock was almost running late.
"Time to get going then." Mycroft somehow made himself seem taller.
"We'll be getting some coffee, so just let me know when I should pick you up again if we're not back." Mycroft kissed Greg quickly before he put his game face on. Greg watched him as the man in front of him turned his face to the smooth mask he normally used for everything that wasn't family.
"Come on Greg." Victoria pulled Greg out of Mycroft's personal space and over to her desk. "Watching him in action can be fun." Greg did agree. Sometimes Mycroft took him to work dinners, every time it was appropriate. Not as a plus one, but as a police officer. Watching the iceman in all his smooth workings could be wonderful, especially when Greg could unravel him completely afterwards. The elevator slowly opened to reveal Mycroft's parents.
"Mummy, father." Mycroft kissed his mother's cheek.
"Mike this was a surprise, I don't think we have ever been here." His mother looked curious around the room. She looked like the nicest old lady, but Greg did not know her, just how Mycroft was when he came back.
"No I don not think so, I just couldn't get away to do this anywhere else. Sherlock will be here shortly. Let's go through to my office." Mycroft gestured to the door.
"How is everything? How's your diet?" Greg could see a twitch between Mycroft shoulder blades as she mentioned it. The door closed behind them before Greg could hear the answer.
"He's been watching a lot of noir films lately, I could have some delivered to your flat if you like." Greg sent the woman a puzzled look. "If you were planning on something more then getting him into bed as you put it."
"I was sure the elevator wasn't bugged…"
"No, but there is a camera, and I do read lips." Greg smiled.
"You really shouldn't do that, might say something you won't like." Victoria overlooked the comment completely.
"I'll have some sent over, and make a dinner reservation…" They were interrupted by Sherlock.
"I'm not late." He concluded as he entered. A sure sign that he was sure he was late.
"Well everyone is already here." Greg couldn't resist.
"Good." Sherlock headed to the door.
"Sherlock." Greg stopped him. "Mycroft did what he thought was best to shield you all."
"He lied Greg." Sherlock emphasised his name. Greg realised it wasn't so much that Sherlock forgot his name as it was a way to keep the older man off balance.
"But not to hurt anyone, he just did what he thought was best. And he's going to need some support in there." One could see Sherlock thinking before he sighed dramatically.
"You are my brother's keeper." He bowed gently as if taking an order.
"I am, and your parents could eat him alive."
"Don't be dramatic. No one will eat Mycroft without spitting him out quickly."
"For ones Sherlock, he has always looked after you, and kept your worst secrets from them, he lets you act like a spoiled child, just give him this."
"We'll see how this goes. I had a feeling he had gotten himself a goldfish." Sherlock surprised Greg by not slamming the door.
Mycroft sat behind his desk, it gave him protection, and a feeling of authority the others in the room probably didn't register. Sherlock had entered the room, mumbled something about goldfish and refused to sit. All in all, he was being Sherlock.
"It is lovely to see you both, but what are we doing here?" Their mother looked around the room. "Gloomy don't you think?"
"It suits my work very well." Mycroft said, Sherlock met his eye. "We are here because there has been an incident, with many casualties and fatalities. On the back of it, I have to confess that I have deceived you all." There was only one way to get through this, quickly. "Years ago I told you our sister had died in a fire when in reality she did not." Mycroft took a breath and watched Sherlock who was studying him. "She did set a fire, and prior to that, she had gotten two of her carers to kill themselves. She was getting worse, more violent, and she had to be moved. The one place that should have kept her secure did not, and over the last mounts she killed a handful of people, and almost killed John Watson, Sherlock and myself as well. She is a danger to everyone. She is now contained, but I have to inform you that Eurus is still alive." The room went silent. Mycroft was surprised, Sherlock didn't feel the need to comment, mock, make it more dramatic.
"Alive for all these years?! How is that even possible?!" His mother had always underestimated what he could do in his position. That might be why she felt his working in the government was a disappointment. Mycroft wondered if she was disappointed that he didn't become PM or something trivial like that.
"What Uncle Rudi began, I thought it best to continue."
"I'm not asking how you did it, idiot boy," The words stung more than they should, without his intellect there was not much to him. "I'm asking how could you?!" How could he? She was dangerous, and they wouldn't stop seeing her. She had an obsession with Sherlock who had deleted every memory of her. She was why he was a detective, why he didn't make human connections. He did it to protect them, to shield them from what she had become. To keep everyone safe.
"I was trying to be kind." That was the praise Greg used about not speaking the truth in his deductions."
"Kind?! Kind?! You told us that our daughter was dead!"
"Better that than tell you what she had become. I'm sorry." She was everything the drugs and loneliness had made Sherlock, just cleverer, with no concept of other people's suffering or emotions, and of course a notorious killer.
"Whatever she became, whatever she is now, Mycroft, she remains our daughter." His father's words were sobering. That was why he had done what he did, better the memories than the truth.
"And my sister." Why he couldn't leave her to others completely. Why there were visits and Christmas presents. Why he couldn't have her killed to protect them all. Sentiment, caring, feelings, it was in the end not an advantage.
"Then you should have done better." That could be his mother's favourite phrase. He couldn't make Eurus better, he couldn't get them to stop seeing her, he couldn't stop her killing, he hadn't realized that she was going to burn down the house, he wasn't able to find Sherlock's friend, he hadn't been able to stop her from torturing and tormenting Sherlock. The number of things he should have done better was endless. But knowing and understanding his mistakes was also one of the things that made him the best at his job.
"He did his best." He had expected Sherlock to, if not make it worse for him, stay quiet and sulk. That he said something in Mycroft's defence was wonderful, amazing. Maybe he wasn't clean yet.
"Then he's very limited." At one point Mrs Hudson had said that in the end family is all we have. A bit rich coming from someone who had married a drug dealer. At this point he was sure she was wrong, and that with family caring really wasn't an advantage. Caring was the root to all of this. Sherlock should keep sentiment out of his work, and Mycroft should keep it out of his family life. But he had spent most of his life protecting Sherlock, he couldn't see how he would change that. Sherlock would make it easy until he needed something. John would look after him, until Sherlock did something stupid and really needed John. Greg would look after Sherlock at work, but he could never ask Greg to do that outside of work. Mycroft had never been limited, he was just held up against the ghost of his sister's intellect. Mycroft reassembled his mask, his armour. This was enough. He built and broke governments for a living; being called an idiot by his mother was not something he should have to deal with.
"Where is she?" He met his father's eyes.
"Back in Sherrinford. Secure this time. People have died. Without doubt, she will kill again if she has the opportunity. There's no possibility she'll ever be able to leave." There was no room to discuss that.
"When can we see her?" A part of Mycroft wanted to scream. She could kill them. Sherlock had pretended to be dead for two years because she had tried to have him killed. She had tried to have Sherlock kill him as a part of an experiment. Why didn't that matter? Why wouldn't that matter even if he explained everything? No one had been safe from her. Instead, he heard cold controlled words leave his lips.
"There's no point."
"How dare you say that?!" Because he couldn't have her killed now that Sherlock knew. He could have done it this time.
"She won't talk. She won't communicate with anyone in any way. She has passed beyond our view. There are no words that can reach her now." At least that made her less of a risk.
"Sherlock? Well? You were always the grown-up. What do we do now?" Mycroft closed his eyes. He had spent all this time looking after Sherlock, covering up his mistakes. Everyone but their parents saw Sherlock as a spoiled child, and Mycroft was the one who had let him become that.
"If anyone can take care of this it is Mycroft." Sherlock met his mother's eyes. He was actually trying to protect Mycroft, this might be a first.
"Obviously not." Their mother snapped. "He's at fault for this in the first place." Her words were venomous to Mycroft, poison in his blood.
"Enough!" Mycroft said clearly. Mycroft's face and posture were not of the son and brother they knew, this was the man who dealt with world leaders and terrorists alike. "This is a security question and it will be dealt with in a proper way. She's killed a lot of people and stopping her from doing that again is our main concern."
"How dare you idiot boy? This is family and you won't contact us again until you have found a way for us to see her." His mother was practically barking. Mycroft was burning up inside, but his look and voice were cold as ice.
"Then I fear it will be a long time until we speak again."
"Mike?" She looked at him in disbelief, they all did. Mycroft never really said no to his mother.
"Threatening me does not change the facts." This was the first time Sherlock had seen Mycroft use his intimidating face on their parents and he looked more shocked than Mycroft thought possible.
"Mycroft." His father tried to object.
"I think it is time for me to get back to my work and for you all to leave." Sherlock opened the door and held it for his parents as they left. "Sherlock?" Mycroft's voice was not as hard when he spoke his brother's name. Sherlock half closed the door and turned around. "Thank you." A bit of Mycroft's mask fell as it always did around Sherlock.
"You did what you thought best. There was no reason for her to yell at you."
"Thank you."
"I promised her to bring her home."
"It's not going to happen Sherlock."
"I know, be a good big brother and see if you can think of something clever."
"You should take care of John and Rosy instead of the woman who almost killed John." Mycroft answered coldly, Sherlock shrugged and left. Bloody sentiment.
Sherlock had left sulking, Greg met him on his way up. When he came into Mycroft's office the desk was covered in papers and files. It looked very much like working.
"Ready to go?" Greg stood in the doorway, Victoria was off working so they were alone.
"I think I should stay and work for a while." Mycroft's voice was flat and he didn't look up from his papers. Greg closed the door behind him. This must have gone very badly.
"No love, you are coming home."
"Gregory, I think I'm very capable of taking care of my own schedule. The world doesn't stop because of my failures." Greg closed the door behind him.
"Mycroft this is…" Greg walked up to the desk. Mycroft interrupted him.
"Just leave me to my work, I have things to sort out." No emotion. No nothing. His voice was even, his eyes were cold as if he had turned something off.
"No way." Greg moved around the desk and turned the chair around so they were facing each other. "You can't shut me out, you are not allowed." There was something desperate in Greg's very loud words.
"I can do whatever I damn well please." Mycroft bit back, at least there was heat in his voice. Greg leant in and kissed Mycroft, there was a desperate force in the kiss. Loving and consuming at ones. Greg's hands were still on the armrests. It took Mycroft a second to react and return the kiss, and then another second to push him away. Greg stayed close, he could feel Mycroft's breath on his face. Mycroft head was tilted forward with his eyes closed. Hurt and pain written clearly on his face. At least Greg had broken through the mask.
"I'm sorry love." Greg mumbled.
"No, I'm sorry. Just hold me please." Greg wrapped his arms around the other man at a strange angle. He could feel Mycroft shaking slightly, definitely crying. He wrapped his arms around Greg as if his life depended on it.
"It'll be fine love, everything will be ok." Greg spoke softly into his ear.
"Nothing will ever be ok." Greg slowly pulled him to the floor so he could hold him properly.
"I promise we will find our way through this." Greg had practically pulled the slender man into his lap.
"I'm so sorry. There is nothing I can do. If I had known I would change things." Greg realised Mycroft wasn't really talking to him. "if I had paid proper attention she wouldn't been able to take Victor, I should have watched them. If I'd been clever I would have understood the song, I should have looked after her."
"Shush shush." Greg kissed his head. "None of this is your fault, none of this should have been your responsibility, you were just a kid." If Sherlock hadn't behaved Greg would kill him. He kept mumbling sweet nothings into Mycroft's hair. Mycroft's breathing evened out after a while, but he didn't let up on his grip around Greg's ribs. "Love, you never need to hide from me, I will always be there."
"I just." Mycroft didn't move. He knew somewhere in his brain that the hug from Greg was reducing the panic, that was chemistry. "It is too much, all of it. I can't fix it. I'm so stupid, but I'm not stupid. I just want to disrepair."
"That's why we are on leave. You are the smartest man I know, and we can go home, close the blinds and hide from the world for a bit longer." Greg really didn't mind another night at home, anything really that calmed Mycroft.
"They said I shouldn't contact them again until I found a way they could meet her." Mycroft buried his face in Greg's neck. "She said this was all my fault."
"She is wrong my love, you know that. My brilliant Mycroft." Greg pulled Mycroft closer. "We'll take all the time you need." The silence that fell around them was comfortable, familiar.
"I don't deserve you." Mycroft's words were barely audible.
"Yes you do, and you are not getting rid of me." Greg kissed what he could get his lips on without shifting. "You are deserving of everything I can give you, if you didn't find it so stupid I would I would ask you to marry me." He said without thinking, there was a flash of panic in Greg's mind. He could feel Mycroft's body stiffen.
"Please don't ask." Greg was surprised at his disappointment at Mycroft's words even if he hadn't planned on asking.
"Of course not." He didn't ask, instead he stroked Mycroft's back.
"What if I think she is right?"
"Then I'll show you she's wrong, one day at a time. Does Sherlock think she is right?" Mycroft shook his head.
"For ones he is right." They fell into silence again, both of them losing track of time.
"Can we go home?" Mycroft's words came out of nothing.
"Anytime you want." Mycroft didn't move. Greg nuzzled the younger man's hair. "Home, something to drink, orange shock blanket." Mycroft chuckled and moved from Greg's lap.
"I can't go out like this." Mycroft's face was tearstained and his eyes puffy.
"You'll be fine, I'm guessing no one will be there on out way out." Greg took Mycroft's hand as they walked out to Victoria.
"I have had your car pulled around back." Greg was not going to ask how she had been able to move his car, he didn't want to know. "I have ordered dinner to be delivered to your flat in an hour and the films we talked about should be there already." Greg had always wondered if working with Mycroft rubbed off or if she was this clever.
"Thank you." Mycroft said, that also meant they could slip out without the risk of meeting anyone.
"Anytime Sir." Greg and Victoria shared a knowing look. He was thankful she was so loyal and caring, everything he wanted Mycroft to have when he wasn't around.
Greg had stripped Mycroft of his coat, jacket and vest as soon as they were through the door. The younger man had instantly taken it as more than Greg had planned. For a while Mycroft had been kissing Greg desperately, tugging at every piece of Greg's clothes he could get his hands on. But before he could actually get any of them of he pulled back into himself. Greg had learned the drill over the last days. Want, the desperate need to feel alive, shame, fare, self-deprivation. Mycroft would cling, kiss and claw at him only to pull back and hide from Greg's touch. Greg knew Mycroft well enough to not be surprised or insulted. Want, need, deserve. And Mycroft didn't feel he deserved it. Getting Mycroft to believe that he had done nothing wrong would take time, time he definitely had. Greg had actually wrapped him in an orange blanket on the sofa as he looked through the movies that had been waiting by the door. He knew a few of them but hadn't seen any, this was Mycroft's private thing, he had never really shared it. Greg moved them to the coffee table and kissed the top of Mycroft's head. "Do you want to watch one of them?"
"You could just choose one, my head is not in it today." Mycroft looked up at him.
"Tea, wine, water?"
"Wine only if you let me get drunk." Greg was surprised, it wasn't often Mycroft wanted to lose control of his brain.
"I don't think that would be good for you today." The doorbell rang, it was the food Victoria had ordered. Pie, mash, and all the trimmings. Sticky toffee pudding and custard. Comfort food, it looked like things he normally could get Mycroft to eat easily. Greg found plates and cutlery, he poured two glasses of wine. Mycroft shouldn't get drunk, but slowing down that brain a bit wouldn't hurt. He saw Mycroft cringe as he put the food down. Mycroft took the glass and held it with both hands.
"Would it be ok if I just… I'm not hungry."
"You just don't want to eat."
"Greg please, just give me this." The most disturbing thing about Mycroft's eating was how controlled it was. He could just stop eating, and then control exactly how much he needed to keep his body and mind going. So little it scared Greg half to death when he lost weight, but enough, at the right times, so no one at work questioned him. Greg curled up on the sofa, resting his chin against Mycroft's shoulder so he could nuzzle his ear.
"Love you know it won't help, and if you start you know how hard it is to quit. I really don't want you to hurt yourself."
"I'm so tired. I don't think my body can handle the strain of digesting anything." It wasn't that late, this was way too early for dinner on a normal day. But the time of day, meals and sleep patterns were thrown out the window these days. Film, food, sleep, that was the plan."
"Your body needs some fuel. You don't have to eat it all, just have some." Greg shifted and cupped Mycroft's face and turned it towards him. "You, my brilliant, perfect Mycroft should not harm yourself, you are the most precious thing I have and should be well taken care of always." Mycroft tried to turn his head away. "You know I'm serious, you know I love you." Mycroft studied him. He had done it a million times, deduced that Greg loved him, just to be sure. And it was always written clearly on his face, it had taken Mycroft time to learn what it was, but it had been there for a long time.
"Ok." Greg let go of Mycroft who emptied half the wineglass before starting to poke his food with the fork. Greg put the top DVD into the player and actually ate his food. Mycroft ate a bit, not as much as Greg would like but when Greg had finished his Mycroft curled up next to him and watched the film. "I love your heart." Mycroft's head was resting against Greg's chest.
"It loves you too." He felt Mycroft's delicate fingers under his shirt and resting just below his ribs. Greg smiled and hoped they would stay like this.
"I just want to feel you." He sighed. "I'm sorry, these days…" His words drifted off and he wasn't sure what he was supposed to say.
"Don't be sorry. You have picked me up and helped me through so many times. Being there for you is a privilege love, it lets me know that you trust me even when it is hard. And I know that's hard for you."
"I'll do better."
"Do you remember the case with the kids last year?" Mycroft just nodded. Greg had misjudged a situation. A woman had been killed and Greg did not believe that the husband was involved. It had turned out that it was a homicide-suicide the man had chickened out of, and when given a bit more time he killed their two young daughters and himself. Greg had been so close to quitting his job. "You helped me through that, no conditions and no expectations of anything in return, now it is my turn. No matter how much time it takes. I know you aren't properly used to being taken care of, but I think you'll get used to it."
"I don't know if this will pass." The images in Mycroft's mind wouldn't be locked down. He had found a room for them in his mind, but they wouldn't stay there they were everywhere.
"Then we'll find a way to handle it." Mycroft loved Greg but he was to emotionally spent to deal with his positivity. Not everything would be OK, this might be one of the unfixable things.
"Let's just watch the movie, it is a good one." The older man just nodded and made sure Mycroft was comfortable resting against his chest. Greg enjoyed the movie, especially when Mycroft couldn't help himself and spoke the lines out loud. Maybe they could do his together in the future. Mycroft fell asleep before the movie was over. Waking him to get to bed was out of the question; they could deal with stiff necks and backs later. Greg just pulled the blanket over them, and when the movie was over he tried to sleep.
AN: I feel so sorry for Mycroft you have no idea. I think there is going to be one more chapter, it'll be up as soon as I finish it.