I CAN SEE THE REAL YOU
(SO, PLEASE. STOP CRYING)
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Disclaimer: Iron Man and Avenger belongs to Marvel. And Sherlock Holmes belongs to Arthur Conan Doyle. But idk Sherlock movie belongs to who :'D
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Genre (s): Hurt/Comfort/Family
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Warning: Typo is my most loyal fan, spelling mistakes because English is not my mother language, Possibly OOC, Mostly Fluff with a lot of Angst. I hope. Not Beta.
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It's been a week. Been a week since he decided to visit his guest and ran out like a coward he never knew he was. He never steps one foot for the past seven days, just asking his bodyguards sans guardians to never let him out of their sight and reported his wellbeing to him. They said he's fine. Still pale and shivering like crazy, but fine nonetheless; for someone who lost half of his blood and almost punctured his lung. The mysterious man never said anything. Just staring blankly at the ceiling. Or sometimes at them, when they bring him food to eat after he was well enough to sit up and not chocking on his own saliva.
While Mycroft tried to forget their miserable encounter. Wallowing himself to finish his paperwork and things that he actually could pass on his secretaries, though decided not to. He knew the man didn't mean to upset him, didn't even realize Mycroft was in the room that day. But his words. That word.
("Why did you betray me?")
Of course. Of course, someone who basically wearing his only-family-that-now-gone-forever face has the same predicament like him. Has the same problem that led to a self-destruction like him. Like Sherlock. Like his precious little brother.
Stanley poured another earl grey tea into his cup while wearing that knowing look he sometimes abhorred. And people thought his butler is just an old man in which his mind slowly deteriorating? Wrong. Definitely, as he assuredly said the dreaded sentences he was waiting for him to utter, "you should check on him, sir. This thing you're doing? It's not good for your sanity..."
Mycroft pinched his nose, "I know, Stanley. But..."
But he can't. He can't face him. He can't stand the disappointment. That, with his words alone at that day, he knew the man was not his brother. He was wishing, pitifully and too desperately, for something unscientific such as miracle to happen and his only family really was resurrected. He knew it was foolish of him. Though again, he couldn't help but hope anyway.
Sherly is going to laugh at me if he catches a wind about this, he dryly chuckled.
Mycroft sobered at that thought. Sherly. Right. He'll be super disappointed if his older brother keeps this up; being gloomy and depressing, overwhelm by nonsense guilt. Sherly will be going to sit him and berated him like a mother-hen, swinging his arm around and giving him a rundown of what a real gentleman should and should not do.
He huffed, pushing himself up and straightening the collar, finally relented, "you're right. I can't...I can't keep this any longer. We need to know if he's a danger to our government. Especially with that technology of him."
As he picked his top hat up and shouldering his trusty cane, Stanley smiled. By all means, he knows it was just a pretense. Still, Mycroft was glad Stanley let him thought otherwise. At least to calm his overwrought mind. Before he could go out from his house office though, his old butler slash companion slash the-only-person-that-stay stop him with simple words.
"You know I'll be there for you sir."
Body going rigid and atmosphere tense. Nobody said a thing, not a rustle of clothing, or even a sharp intake of air. Without looking back, Mycroft was out.
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That was what that man said too.
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("Why did you betray me?")
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Mycroft dryly chuckled.
And look what happened.
TO BE CONTINUE
Reviews are appreciated~
Best Regards
Akabane Kazama