The Morning After.
[Mycroft]
"Mycroft? Mycroft?" Someone was shaking him, he could feel it but he couldn't quite fathom it yet. "Mycroft?"
He jilted awake and fell off of the armchair and onto the floor. His arm was grabbed and he was pulled up to his feet. He tried to focus with one eye open as he looked around to Molly.
"You alright?" He looked at her in her yellow dress, with her hair and make-up done. All she was missing were her shoes.
"Y-" He cleared his throat and tried again. "Yes, ahem… Thank you." She let him go and he straightened his clothes. "What time is it?"
"Gone nine, everyone is just getting ready." She pointed to the table. "I made you a cup of tea and there's some pain killers there."
"Thank you but I don't think I'll be needing th- Ahhhh!" He scrunched up his face as someone drove a spike through his head. He lifted his hand up to it and bent his knees a little. She just smiled kindly and rubbed his arm before turning to the door opening.
"I don't believe it. I don't believe it." Mary walked in in her dress, with her hair done and in floods of tears, which was ruining her make-up, followed by the rest of the hens who looked like something terrible had happened. Janine and Billie were in lilac bridesmaids dresses.
"What's wrong?" Molly watched as Mary walked over to her and Mycroft knocked back the pain killers while looking on concerned.
She couldn't find the words so she just gave Molly a sad face as tears continued to stream and turned around.
Molly gasped and Mycroft knew this was bad. Very bad.
There was a massive tear down the back of Mary's dress. She turned back around to the pair. "What am I going to do?"
Mycroft took a step forward. "Turn." She turned again to show him her back.
"I don't understand, I just put it on and it ripped! I put in some much effort to get into this dress and I managed it." She had started to talk at a hundred miles an hour. "I did. And it wasn't like it was tight, it just ripped! Just." She made a gesture of zipping up and a ripping noise. "You two were there, it just ripped didn't it? It wasn't me?" They nodded looking more concerned than hung-over.
Mycroft looked at the rip. Along the attachment to the zip. He turned her back around to face him. She can't be any different than Greg. "Mary, look at me. Stop panicking. Stop." He tried to make her keep eye contact with him. "Breathe."
"But what I going to-"
"Stop." She stopped talking. "Breathe, that's an order." She starting breathing deeply through her open mouth concentrating on his eyes. "Good, listen to me. We have plenty of time but if you keep crying all of your make-up will have to be redone." He took out his phone without looking. "Breathe." He looked to his phone for a second before looking back to her. "Now, let me pay you back for last night. Trust me, go and take it off."
She nodded and disappeared.
"Beau? Yes, it's Mycroft Holmes… I'm very well thank you, and yourself?" He waited for the reply as Molly looked at him wondering. "That's good. Listen, I have an emergency… Wedding dress. Yes, it's just ripped along the zip and the service is in…" He looked to Molly and she mouthed. "Less than three hours?" He then gave the man the address and nodded muttering before hanging up.
A minute or so later Mary came back into the room wearing pyjamas looking at Mycroft. "Should I phone John?"
He held up his hands. "Everything will be fine, I have someone coming to fix it."
She looked to Molly surprised before looking back to him. "Wh- Will there be enough time?"
He nodded. "This man practically is Saville Row." She rushed to hug him and he smiled as they pulled apart. She pulled his face down with two hands and kissed his cheek. "Excuse me." He smiled as Mary smiled at Molly and he walked into the kitchen.
He picked up his phone again. "Alfred, could you do something for me? I need something delivered to Baker Street… As soon as possible." He smiled to himself.
.
"Greg!" Sherlock hit the Inspector on the knee without thinking. Greg's eye sprung open and he grabbed Sherlock's arm. "Watch! You'll crease this shirt!"
Greg let go and rubbed his face as he actually woke up. "Sorry, but you need to stop waking me up like that."
"I'd hate to be Mycroft." John muttered without thinking as he wander back into the living room towards his chair.
Greg smiled. "Actually Mycroft uses his…" He stopped his sentence and looked at the other two before clearing his throat as he flushed pink. "Never mind."
John laughed and pointed to Greg's face and looked to Sherlock who, he noticed was looking him up and down. "What?"
"Why do you have your dressing gown over your clothes, you'll crush them?" Sherlock looked annoyed.
John looked down at himself. "Because I fancied a cup of tea – if they're creased I can iron them again but I cannot wash out tea in time if I spill it. Okay?"
Sherlock just nodded as he looked at his watch for the millionth time that morning.
Greg noticed and looked at his own. "Shit, I need to get home and get ready. Shit, why did I crash here?! I'm gonna be late for your wedding!" Greg ran around pulling on his coat and visually locating his things as Mrs Hudson walked up the stairs.
She wandered in with a man behind her. She was wearing a navy blue ensemble carrying a dish cloth. "I am sick of answering the door for you two!"
John turned his hands palms up and looked to her. "I don't live here anymore, did everybody forget that?"
"How can we, when you keep reminding us?" Sherlock muttered it and sweeped around to look at her. "I wasn't expecting anyone?"
"It's not for you, Sherlock." She huffed and left.
The man stepped forward and Greg recognised him right away. "Parker?" He stood up to address Mycroft's driver. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing, sir. Mr Holmes called this morning and said you would be needing this." He held out a hanger in one hand and lifted the rest of it with his other arm to present it like a bottle of wine in a restaurant. A big fabric bottle of wine. Okay, it was a suit in a clothes cover.
Greg and John looked to Sherlock who shook his head. "Not me."
"No, sir." Parker confirmed.
"Mycroft said I would need this?" Greg pointed to the suit.
"Yes sir." The man suddenly wondered if he had done something wrong. "If this is inconvenient I can leave, sir?"
"No no, thank you." Greg took it from the man. "You say he called this morning?" The man 'yessir'ed again waiting in the doorway. "Was he at work?"
"I'm sorry, sir, I'm afraid I do not know."
Greg nodded and smiled as he turned back. He then remembered. "Oh, sorry! Thanks Parker, you can go now." The man 'yessir'ed and left. Greg turned to Sherlock. "I will never get used to that."
Sherlock just looked confused. "To what?"
"All of that 'yes, sir' and waiting to be excused, it's weird."
"Is it?" Sherlock searched his memory for a time that it felt weird. Nope.
Greg rolled his eyes. "Well, it wouldn't to you. Did that seem weird to you, that he called to have that brought over?"
John shook his head.
"You mean why didn't he ask for it before he left for work?" Greg nodded in reply to Sherlock. "Yeah, it did."
John thought about it before he sighed angrily as he spilled his tea on his dressing gown. He stood up and looked at Sherlock. "See?"
.
[Mycroft's]
Mycroft was sitting with Beau and a few others in Mary's living room as Mary and Janine were up the stairs trying the dress on again.
"Thank you so much for coming at such short notice, Beau."
"Anything for you Mycroft! She's a beautiful woman, I hope her husband to be knows how lucky he is."
"Oh, he does and if he doesn't he will by the end of today."
They looked up as Janine spoke. She smiled and stood to the side as Mary walked in.
Mycroft and Beau immediately stood in manners and the rest of the group followed the example.
She smiled at the group, her make-up having been fixed and her face showing no signs of anything ever have been wrong. "Well?" She didn't have to wait for words to confirm it because everyone's face showed how lovely she looked.
Beau walked around her cautiously and checked the back of the dress. "Perfect!" He smiled at her as she took his hand and squeezed it in thanks.
"Thank you so much, you've saved the day." She looked to Mycroft. "Both of you."
Suddenly there came two knocks at the door.
Molly ran to get it. "That's the cars here!"
Mary looked around at her friends. "Go, go! I'll see you there."
Janine and Billie stayed behind to go in the car with Mary who was walking down the aisle alone.
Beau bid his farewells mumbling something about a show he was meant to be headlining in half an hour.
"Thank you so much, Mycroft. You've no idea…" She took his hands and began to well up.
"Now, don't do that or you'll never get there." She nodded and took a breath in. "Go. Go get married Miss Morstan."
She smiled. "Are you sure you won't come?"
He shook his head regrettably. "I have some things to do, Syria needs to… Well." He stopped himself. "Thank you, Mary."
"For what?" There was beeping outside and Janine went out.
"You've no idea." He smiled and ushered her out of the door following just behind her. He pulled the door closed and waved her off.
He took a breath as his own car drove up. The man got out and opened the door.
"Did you get round to Baker Street, Parker?"
"Yes, sir."
"With the specific pieces of clothing that I picked out?"
"Yes, sir."
How was he? Was he upset? Was he happy? Did he look inside? Did he ask about me? Does he still love me?
Mycroft smiled politely and got in the car having not said a word further.
.
[Sherlock's]
Greg was shoved in the direction of the bathroom and then shoved into Sherlock's bedroom to change afterwards. He felt a bit uncomfortable now changing into a pair of Sherlock's underwear, which may be down to how long they were but John did not have any to offer him in their place.
Sherlock opened his bedroom door and, still standing behind it with his head directed to the bathroom, put just his right arm in the door producing the suit Mycroft had picked out for Lestrade.
"Thanks." Lestrade took the suit and turned it around to look at the front and stopped.
He held the suit with his right hand and slowly brought his left up to the tie. He put his fingers behind it and his thumb on the front and rubbed it remembering.
'Whoa, whoa. It's okay. What's all this? It's just a tie. Actually, I've never seen this one before.'
'Sherlock gave it to me.'
Greg looked at the tie. It was a deep navy blue with light blue spots on it to compliment the light blue shirt and bring out the blue tinge in Greg's favourite blue/grey suit jacket. There was something else about this tie; a memory that Greg couldn't quite reach.
He thought about it as he dressed and walked into the living room where the others were waiting to leave. Mrs Hudson had left a while before and Greg was still none the wiser as he walked towards Sherlock and John.
"What's up?" John noticed the look on Greg's face first as Sherlock turned to look.
"Nothing."
Sherlock searched his face. "What is it?"
He sighed. "It's this tie."
Sherlock noticed it. Mycroft's, I gave it to him. Compliments the shirt and jacket perfectly. So what's wrong?
"I can feel a memory somewhere in the back of my head but I can't… Can't reach it." He sighed and rubbed his neck.
John looked to Sherlock and raised an eyebrow.
Don't have a lot of time. Easier to just find it than to argue. Sherlock closed his eyes, put his fingers to his temples and ran into his mind palace searching like mad.
Birthday present. Wore it three, four times… Wait! No, five times. Suddenly a scene crossed Sherlock's mind. He rushed into a restaurant, followed by Molly and Mary, towards a table. 'I love you too Mycroft but that doesn't erase the fact that…' Greg's face changed as he stumbled backwards out of his chair to stand looking at Sherlock, white as a sheet, but he had already looked ill. As if something terrible was happening. Sherlock looked at the table guiltily. 'I'm sorry, Mycroft, I know I promised that I'd allow you the time to tell him but there's an emergency.' Looking up at Mycroft as he put his napkin on the table. 'It doesn't matter. I've lost him already.' He reached for his water to take a sip and Sherlock looked to Greg. Sherlock visibly rewound it all to when he first looked up at Mycroft. His tie. He was wearing that tie.
Sherlock's eyes flew open.
Greg and John were looking at him expectantly.
He cleared his throat as he picked up his coat. "That day, the day I came back, he was wearing it in the restaurant. It's obviously some kind of message to you."
Greg suddenly remembered looking across to Mycroft who was indeed wearing the tie. He remembered it was loose when they were on their way to the hospital with Molly and how it had completely disappeared by the time they were standing outside smoking. He saw Mycroft catching him as stood on his broken foot and noticed its absence for the first time. He was too focused on Mycroft.
"What's the message?" John pulled his coat on too.
Greg thought about it. "The night that we spoke about my guilt for the first time he was wearing that tie, I remember because he was yanking from around his neck and it got stuck. I didn't remember ever seeing it before so I asked him about it – he said that you had given him it." He gestured to Sherlock. "That look on his face when he said that, I thought it was pain from losing you but it wasn't, was it?"
Sherlock took a breath. "It seems that what you mistook for pain at my loss was in fact pain at what he was doing to you which was intensified when you spoke of your guilt. So much so that he found me the next day to stop it all. I wanted to tell John first because I was worried about his reaction." John looked at the floor and dragged his right foot along it a little before looking up again. "And he said that he wanted to wait until the next day to tell you because you had been having a tough time at work but I think that he was so convinced he would lose you that he wanted one last night. That tie, I think he wore it during the meal to try to subconsciously tell you why he was hurting you then and…" He sighed and indicated Greg's chest. "He's sent it now because he knows we'll figure out his message."
"Which is?" John gestured with his head that his question still hadn't been answered.
Greg didn't speak, he just looked down at it and flicked the end.
"Mycroft now associates the tie with Greg's pain and the possibility of Greg leaving. It's an explanation. As we thought, he was doing it all because he was afraid of losing you."
John sighed. "Wow."
Greg nodded in reply to John a little shocked. Then he smiled like he'd never smiled before letting out a laugh of relief.
John and Sherlock looked at each other smiling knowing that there just might be new hope for those two.
John looked out the window as a car pulled up and honked. "Come on then, this is supposed to be my wedding day." He smiled and walked out.
"Greg," Sherlock put his arm on the Inspector's to stop him for a second, "he's sent you a message… In his mind it's your turn." They smiled awkwardly at each other.
"Come on!" John shouted from down the stairs.
Greg smiled to Sherlock before following the voice.
Sherlock's smile fell as he exhaled and followed them.