So here's Holmes parents' POV. I just want to say that I was crying, while writing Daddy Holmes part.

I also used their fan names - Siger and Violet - because in this chapter I couldn't just call them Mummy and Daddy.

Please, leave comment. And prompts.

Very limited parents

It was three in the afternoon, when Siger Holmes knocked to his elder son's bedroom. The conversation with Sherlock was still fresh in his mind and opened his eyes to certain facts, the more he was thinking about it. He felt awful. He said too many harsh things and he decided it was time to make amends.

"What is it, Dad?" Mycroft's voice inquired from the other side.

Siger smiled. Somehow his firstborn always knew who was knocking to his door, even if that person was completely quiet. But Siger's children were always remarkably bright, so he stopped to be surprised long time ago.

"I want to talk with you." He finally replied. "Can I come in?"

"If you must…" A bit annoyed Mycroft said.

And so Siger pulled the doorknob and entered the room. Mycroft was sitting on the bed, a history book on his lap and look of mild irritation on his face. This also wasn't uncommon view for Siger. Even as a child, his son was often reading books far beyond his age and he was always annoyed whenever his parents were interrupting him.

The father observed the son for a moment. God, he was so small… Everything about him was tiny… It was like they were turned back in time; or like last three decades never happened. Like his eldest son was still an innocent, if not amazingly bright, little boy. Momentarily Siger's mind was flooded with fond memories of happier days, filled with beach picnics, make-believes, carriages strolling down the park and child's laughter. Days when everything seemed to be simple and his babies didn't have to worry about demons lurking in humanity.

Or so he thought back then…

Siger sat next to his son and smiled to him lightly.

"You know," He began. "I never knew what was in this head of yours. Your mind was always working on completely different level than mine." Siger's smile weakened. "It's your mother's genes certainly. She's a mathematical genius, so no wonder she gave me three genius children. It seemed like there was a bright future before you and your siblings…"

He stopped and looked at Mycroft. God, he was so small… A chubby little boy, so delicate and vulnerable to attacks from unfriendly world… Siger remembered the crying in the night, the scratched knees, the teasing children… He even remembered a nasty prank Mycroft's classmates pulled on him when he was in middle school. And the old man remembered this feeling whenever his son was sad… this feeling of wanting to make everything better.

He also remembered the look of disappointment in Mycroft's eyes.

"But you were always too observant for your own good." He proceeded, his voice cracking from the emotions. "It was no use in hiding bad news from you. You always knew that something was up. Like that time with your nanny…"

Siger remembered that moment very well. That moment when his own son came to his study and confronted him about his affair. This look on his face… this look of disgust and hurt. How could his father did this to his mother, he was asking. How could Siger cheat on his wife with a younger woman? Had he no shame? He needed to end this silly relationship as soon as possible, before Mummy would find out and her heart would be broken.

And Siger knew that Mycroft was fighting with himself to not reveal this horrible truth to his mother. That he despised his Daddy for this moment of weakness, for his selfishness. There were times during this short adventure with boys' nanny that he was disgusted with himself too, but the feeling hit him even harder once he saw this look on Mycroft's face. Because it was a reminder of how low he has fallen.

Siger felt tears forming in his eyes.

"Dad, I…" Mycroft in the present started, looking up at his father, but Siger hushed him.

God, he was so small… So easy to get hurt…

"I was always the idiot in this family." Siger continued. "I wasn't the best husband, and certainly not the best father."

"No, no, you're not an idiot." Mycroft cut in, smiling lightly.

God, he was so small… and yet he endured so much pain. Siger felt an urge to embrace him, to hold him. Mycroft was a child now, right? Parents hold their children. Parents make their children feel better. Parents protect their children.

I hate that I've almost died, and you don't even care.

Siger swallowed a lump in his throat and said:

"Have I ever told you about your first field work mission?"

"Well, you didn't have to." Mycroft replied. "I was there, after all."

"But have I told you that I was scared?"

Mycroft didn't look stunned by this confession… but he also wasn't saying anything. He probably just waited for his father to elaborate.

"Why they decided that you needed to be sent to North Korea, I still don't know." Siger went on and this time he couldn't stop the tears. "Your place is in the shadows. Your job is to observe, make connections, decrypt hidden messages, predict the possible outcomes… And yet they decided to put you in danger."

"Nobody else could do it." Mycroft replied with calm voice.

"Any idiot could do it. It was an easy mission. They should have send regular agents. They didn't have to send you."

"If this mission was so easy, why you were scared?" His son asked, looking at him with smug.

"Because my son could die." Siger smiled bitterly through tears running down his face.

He put his old hand on Mycroft's chubby cheek. It felt just as soft and delicate as he remembered from happier times. Mycroft himself was just staring at him with surprise and not moving a muscle.

"I was afraid that you won't come back." Siger continued, sobbing. "That you will get captured and they will torture you, and then…"

He remembered this tension when he was waiting for any news on Mycroft's mission. He remembered these horrible scenarios playing inside his head as he was scared for his son's life. He hoped that Mycroft would be sensible and come back home, but there was still this fear that something will go wrong.

"I've already lost one child." Siger said, still crying. "I didn't want to lose another."

"You wouldn't." Mycroft smiled, put his hands on his father's hand and gently pushed it away. "I knew what I was doing." His smile weakened. "I always do."

And yet you've almost died – Siger thought. – The worst part was that, even then, you knew what you were doing.

God, he was so small…

The head of Holmes family pulled his son on his lap and into a hug and kept whimpering. He was caressing Mycroft's head, holding tight his little body like he was trying to comfort him after a nightmare. Mycroft, on the other hand, only hugged him back.

"I'm sorry, Myc." Siger whispered. "I've said some horrible things in anger."

"You didn't know…" Mycroft started, but his father cut in:

"I did many stupid, stupid things and you got hurt. I should have listen to you more often." He looked down at Mycroft and Mycroft looked back at him. Then Siger added: "And if there is anything you ever need, tell me. I will try to be there for you."

God, Mycroft was so small… so much so that Siger wanted nothing more than keep him from harm. But the harm was already done and the only thing he could do about it was to help his son heal.


Violet Holmes was chopping the carrot for the soup. She tried not to think about latest revelations, but automatic movements let her mind go astray and wander through unwanted territories.

It was supposed to be a family weekend. Her two sons visiting her and Siger, have a nice family dinner, maybe play some games. She expected many things, she knew her boys and was ready for almost every shenanigan of Sherlock and every pout of Mycroft. Yes, she was kind of uneasy, because of what she found out about Eurus, nevertheless she couldn't help the feeling that they were on good path to rebuild family trust.

She wasn't ready for Sherlock scolding her and Siger for their parenting. She wasn't ready for truth about Eurus' break out. She wasn't ready to learn that her eldest son was almost killed by his own brother. And she certainly wasn't ready for Mycroft being child again. It was like a dream, but somehow this dream was strangely real and no matter how hard Violet wanted to wake up, she couldn't.

Sherlock said that they should apologize to Mycroft, if they wanted him to be an adult again. He even pointed out what they should be sorry for, and the more Violet was thinking about it, the more she felt that she did say some harsh words back then, in Mycroft's cabinet. She wondered if she would still say them if she knew what he went through. She wanted to believe that she wouldn't; that as much as she would be angry at him for lying, she would have enough compassion to not do this to him.

She let him down, he let down her – the endless circle of mistakes was spinning and sometimes there was nothing one could do about it. Violet knew she wasn't the best mother in the world and honestly, which mother was? She was only human.

But she still felt guilty.

She put the chopped carrot into the pot and started to look for a soup spice, when she noticed a little boy sitting on the counter. The boy was chubby with curly, light hair. And he had wings.

"Hello, Mrs. Holmes." He said and extended his hand towards her. "My name is Herbert and I'm a big fan of your eldest son."

She looked at him with surprise, before she remembered something.

"You…" She hissed at him. "You're the one who turned Mycroft into five year old."

"Yup." He replied with a wide grin.

"Turn him back to normal. Now." Violet demanded, causing him to drop his smile.

"I'm sorry, but it's not an option. Not all the conditions has been met, yet."

For a moment Violet wasn't sure what to say. So she settled for the next best thing:

"He has important work to do…"

"He's a child. The United Kingdom isn't his responsibility. Although," The cherub added with another smile. "he's awesome also in managing the national security."

"Turn him back." Violet repeated.

"Why?"

Violet sighed.

"I don't think you understand how frustrating it must be for him. He's a respected government official…"

"Oh, really? And I thought he's very limited."

His words pierced through her.

"He did his best."

"Then he's very limited!"

Right now, with knowledge of things she didn't know about back then, she felt ashamed of what she said. Especially because the look on Mycroft's face was heartbreaking. Why she didn't notice it back then? Why she let her anger forget that he had feelings too?

"Why do you want him to grow up so fast?" Herbert started again. "You didn't even try to lift his burden, yet you want to put it back on his shoulders?"

"And you think that me apologizing to him will do just that?" She looked at him grimly. "The things he went through… they can't be fixed with 'I'm sorry.'"

The cherub gave her a sad look, then jumped off the counter and started to float in the air.

"How about you make your son feel that he's not alone?" He flew closer to her. "That he has a home he can always go to? That you will always be there for him?"

Violet dropped her gaze. Herbert was right, of course. And she promised to herself that she will take care of Mycroft the best she could. In fact, all of her children needed her right now. Now she could see it. The amount of damage that has been done to all three of her offspring. But honestly it felt like a too big of a challenge… Lullabies and hugs just wouldn't do.

"Look, Mrs. Holmes." Herbert said turning her attention back on himself.

Suddenly an umbrella appeared in his hands, and she immediately recognized it was Mycroft's. It seemed to be a bit too big for the cherub, nevertheless, he was holding it firmly in his small hands.

Herbert lowered his flight a bit, so the pointy end of the umbrella would touch the ground.

"When Mycroft first met doctor Watson, he was standing like this." The cherub leaned on it and made a nonchalant pose… which was hard for him, since the umbrella was far too long. "Neat, huh? And look at this."

He took the umbrella by a handle, screw it a bit and revealed to Violet a hidden blade.

"Pretty cool, don't you thing?"

"I don't know…" Violet started, but Herbert cut in:

"And that's not enough! There's even a gun here!"

"Gun?!" Her eyes widened. "Isn't it a bit too much?!"

"No, it's crazy awesome!" Herbert replied, hiding the blade back in the umbrella. Then he held the object to his chest and once again flew closer to Violet. Right now he was staring right into her eyes and his expression was poignant. "Tell me, Mrs. Holmes," He began, smiling lightly. "isn't your son amazing?"

Violet looked at him. In her life, she repeatedly heard from various people that Mycroft was an incredibly gifted child. There was no doubt here – he was brilliant. On the one hand, she thought it was fantastic, on the other – his abilities had its downsides, when it came to his personality. Mycroft was arrogant and often rude. He also wasn't very social, because for him everyone else was a goldfish (whatever it meant).

He grew up to be important, that's for sure. He used his gifts to work for his country. Violet never knew what exactly he was doing (aside from surveillance and politics), but he never missed an opportunity to tell her that people were depending on him. There was even one time when he had to leave Easter dinner because some crisis in Russia.

She didn't want to think about it. She thought that Mycroft was too full of himself, like this important job he was doing gave him permission to look down on everyone else. So she thought it was appropriate to bring him down on earth.

Of course, Herbert thought Mycroft was amazing. The cherub was, after all, his fan. But she couldn't help but think that maybe there was another reason he showed her the sword in her son's umbrella.

She looked up to ask about it, however, the cherub was gone. But she didn't have time to ponder about it, because someone rung to the front door.

"Sherlock, please, check who's there!" She called to her younger son. "I need to take care of the dinner!"

Sherlock didn't do as he was told. In fact, Violet didn't know where he was. Siger also didn't move from upstairs, so it looked like checking the door fell upon her. Violet sighed and went out of the kitchen. Once she looked through the peephole, she raised her eyebrows with surprise. Then she opened the door and greeted her guest:

"Anthea? What are you doing here?"