Author's note: More reviews! Yay!

Because someone asked: No, this story is not going to be slash. It's just bromance.

This story won't be much longer. I think the next chapter is going to be the last, although I am not sure.

I don't own anything, please review.

As soon as Greg left the building, he called John.

He didn't give the doctor any time to say anything, he simply said, as soon as he'd picked up, "He knows".

He could almost hear John pale on the other end of the phone (well aware that both Sherlock and Mycroft would be appalled that he'd thought he could "hear someone pale") and hastened to add, "He's not going to go after him".

"You're sure?" John was scared, he could tell, but at least he was trying his best not to sound too sceptical, not wanting to drive a wedge between him and Mycroft. As íf that was necessary.

"Yes. I am sure. He asked me to tell him when Sherlock texts next..." he trailed off, expecting John to be delighted and hang up.

Instead, the doctor demanded, "What happened?"

"What do you mean?" he asked stupidly, not believing that John would actually care about his relationship with Mycroft.

In the next moment, he was ashamed of himself, because John continued, "Is he angry with you?"

"It's difficult to say" he answered honestly, because he really couldn't say. He knew Mycroft as well as anyone could know the British Government – except for Sherlock and Anthea – but as to what he was thinking...

"It's a lot to take in" John replied, obviously sensing his uncertainty, "his brother is alive, out there, fighting Moriarty's web – "

"I know that" he almost spat before shaking his head and saying, "I'm sorry, John. It's just –"

"Trust me, I know". John's cheerfulness sounded a bit forced, but he would take what he could get. "Being friends with a Holmes is never easy".

No one knew this better than Greg – he had known Sherlock longer, if not better, than John had, but he refrained from telling him so – and he simply said, "I know."

John laughed and Greg joined in, although they both didn't feel like it. They hung up afterwards. No goodbye was necessary. At least between John Watson and Greg Lestrade, everything was alright.

As to Greg Lestrade and Mycroft Holmes – he wasn't sure.

Although he had been convinced that everything was over, that their friendship that (as he'd realized then) he'd come to depend upon was a thing of the past, now he couldn't say with certainty that it was so.

How had John put it?

"It's a lot to take in". Mycroft Holmes wasn't normal by anyone's standards, but he was still a man who'd believed his brother to be dead until Greg had entered his office, so maybe he did need some time to let everything sink in.

And, not to forget, Mycroft was not only a very logical man, he also understand normal human beings (something his brother always had had trouble with) and he would comprehend Greg's dilemma –

Would he? In the last few days, Greg had seen an entirely different side of Mycroft; an entirely human side that he just knew not many people were aware even existed. And this side would be angry, and feel betrayed, and –

Until this moment, Greg hadn't realized how much the British Government had come to mean to him.

It might be because he and Mycroft were somehow another team that had just clicked, like Sherlock and John; another pair of friends that had found each other when they needed it the most. And now he could very well lose this friendship, this weird, almost impossible friendship that had come out of nowhere.

Looking back at the decisions he'd made, though –

He would always choose Sherlock, because that was what one did when one had got involved in the consulting detective's life. Sherlock Holmes had a way of pulling you in, making you a part of his battle until you couldn't help bit fight along. And now, he could never give him up. The months in which he'd believed him to be dead had certainly proven that.

However –

He would always regret Mycroft's friendship. Not only for him, but for the elder Holmes too. How many people did he trust? How many people had he trusted in the course of his life? How many friends had he had?

Considering that he'd always been suspicious of Sherlock's friends and kept himself at a distance from – anyone, not many.

Greg decided that he simply wouldn't allow Mycroft to walk away from this friendship. He had tracked down Sherlock years ago, just to offer him a job (unofficially, but still), and now he would be running after his brother. As far as he was concerned, it didn't make much of a difference.

Thankfully enough, he was invited to his house for dinner the day after tomorrow. He had no doubt that Mycroft didn't expect him to attend, but he would.

He spent the next two days working. While the Chief Superintendent would certainly never allow him to work a new case – at least not until Sherlock returned, and he had to admit that the thought of Mycroft knowing and helping him filled him with irrational hope – he didn't want to spend too many days away from his office. Donavan might get ideas.

He sent Sherlock a text, informing him that his brother had found out, and getting a simple answer:

I expected he would at some point.

He sighed, relieved. At least he would be able to tell Mycroft that Sherlock had nothing against him helping –

He couldn't help but suspect that, on some level, Sherlock had wanted his brother to find out. Sherlock cared about Mycroft and needed his help, he just didn't want to admit it.

John called him several times, telling him he just wanted to "talk", and Greg tried his best to make him see that he wasn't responsible for – well, for anything, really. John had wanted to help Sherlock, and that was a good enough reason for Greg to forgive him (at least that was what he told the doctor; he didn't really think there was anything to forgive).

In a way, it was both normal and strange to have John care so much that he and Mycroft had had –

Had he and Mycroft even had a fight? It was difficult to say. He was, on the contrary, rather sure that one could not fight with Mycroft Holmes.

Anyway, he would find out tonight.

Mycroft opened the door less than a minute after Greg had knocked, which told him that not only was the British Government not all that angry with him – although he certainly was a little bit – but also that he had, against his protestations to the contrary, been waiting for him.

They ate in silence, Greg simply keeping Mycroft company.

Finally the British Government decided to speak.

"Did you tell him?"

"Yes. It's – " Greg remembered what Sherlock and John used to say in situations like this and smiled. "It's all fine".

Mycroft smiled back. All was indeed fine.

Greg's phone rang. It was John.

"Hello, John."

"Hello, Greg – I – sorry, I forgot you were at Mycroft's – "

"No problem, what is it?" Greg asked. John sounded positively cheerful.

"I'm at Baker Street".

"Really?"

"Yes. I thought – you know, someone has to keep the flat in order until Sherlock comes back. Make sure Mrs. Hudson doesn't throw away any of his things".

Greg chuckled and bade him greet Mrs. Hudson before saying goodbye.

Mycroft almost grinned when he told him the news.

"I'll get the brandy, shall I?"

Author's note: Sorry for short chapter. It seemed right to end it there. Like I said, the next chapter is probably going to be the last.

I hope you liked it, please review.