Chapter 11

When Mycroft opened his eyes, it was dark. Completely dark. Was he dead? Was this afterlife? Had his father been right when he had said that there was nothing after life? Only eternal darkness? And would Mycroft have to spend it alone? "Hello?", he called out, "Is there anybody here?" He was lying on something soft, he realized now. And he felt a bit tingly, like he wasn't all there. Suddenly, a square bit of darkness was replaced by light. What was it? Then, again all of a sudden, something warm touched his arm, softly. "It's all right," a strangely familiar voice told him. "Am I dead?", Mycroft asked the voice.

"No," the voice answered firmly, "you're fine. Everything will come back to you in time." "What happened?", Mycroft asked. The voice sighted and said nothing for a moment. But it had been right: Mycroft realized now that the voice belonged to a man, that the square-shaped light had to be a door and that he was lying on a bed. Things WERE coming back to him.

"I'm sorry," the man said, "so, so sorry." Soft lips kissed Mycroft's brow. "Doctor," Mycroft mumbled. "You're the Doctor." "Yes, I am," the Doctor said, " and I wish I could have kept you out of this." The sudden realization hit Mycroft like a bullet. "I have killed a man," he said. "Yes, you have," the Doctor answered, "because you had to. It was a fixed point in time; I couldn't stop you from doing it. It was meant to happen. Together, Jim and John Moriarty would have simply been too powerful." "I wanted to...," Mycroft started, but the Doctor didn't let him finish his sentence: "Don't. You don't have to talk about this."

The Doctor had started rubbing Mycroft's arm, as if to comfort him. But there was something else in the alien's voice than comfort. Was the Doctor nervous? "It wasn't your fault, you know," Mycroft said, even though he wasn't really sure that was true. "Yes, it was," the Doctor said, "you weren't supposed to know that I would be back. But I could have somehow let you know that I was still out there. That I was still alive. That I felt the same for you as you felt for me."

"Tell me now, then," Mycroft said. He still had this strange tingly feeling, as if he had just woken up from a coma. Suddenly, he felt the Doctor's warm breath on the skin of his face. Soft lips touched his, but only briefly. Then he felt the Doctor's breath against his ear. "I love you," the Doctor whispered, "I love you more than anything. And I will never leave you again. Not like that."

"I don't believe you," Mycroft said. "You are a Time Lord. You have seen different worlds, different universes. You must be old, way older than me. You don't settle for one man, especially not for a human like me." The Doctor kissed him again. "I've never spoken of settling," he said, chuckling softly, "You can come with me."

"I can't," Mycroft said, "I have a country to run, and then there's Sherlock…"

"That's what you tried to kill yourself for, then," the Doctor remarked, his voice suddenly cold, "for a hope you didn't expect to be fulfilled anyway. Do you remember the last summer we spent together, when I've told you everything about me? All these stories I shared with you and you were amazed by them! There was this light in your eyes and you said there was nothing you would enjoy more than to come with me some day. And you don't think your brother can look after himself for a while?" "You didn't speak of 'a while', " Mycroft said. Suddenly, he felt very tired and the tingly feeling was still there. "And why is it so dark in here?"

The Doctor softly touched his face again. "I'm sorry… I was really speaking of 'a while', you know. A while in this world. We could spend years travelling in the Tardis and be back in the blink of an eye. " "And what then?", Mycroft asked, "Do you think I could ever forget you?" "You don't have to," the Doctor said, "it could be like a long-distance relationship. People have those, don't they?"

Mycroft laughed. "More like a long-space-and-time relationship." The Doctor laughed. "I will love you aaaaaall across the universe. All across all universes, actually…" "Shut up and kiss me already," Mycroft complained, "and properly this time!"

The kiss felt like the first kiss, in some way. With his eyes closed, Mycroft tried to feel and nothing else: The softness of the Doctor's lips, the sweetness of the imploring tongue, the warmth of the Doctor's breath… A wonderful eternity later, Mycroft remarked: "It's still awfully dark in here."

The Doctor cleared his throat. "You do love me, right?" Now he sounded really nervous. "Yes, of course I love you." "How much do you love me?", the Doctor asked. "What kind of question is that?", Mycroft asked back. "It's just… I have… changed… a bit." Mycroft laughed. "You sound like a teenager. What is it? Did you become fat? " "No, but I changed all over… you must have realized that my voice is different?"

Mycroft frowned. Actually, he hadn't realized until now. The tingly feeling was gone, but something still had to be wrong with him. "What exactly happened?", he asked the Doctor. "Did I get shot? But there's no pain. And what about the drugs?" "Don't worry, I took care of that, you will be fine. What you are feeling right now are just the side-effects of too quick wound healing, combined with painkillers and time travel," the Doctor explained, "but your brain will work at its usual pace again, soon."

"But your voice… I just realized. And your lips also feel different… and did you always kiss like that..." He trailed off, feeling utterly confused. "Yes, about that. I kind of… died when I was gone." "You kind of WHAT?" Mycroft stared into the darkness and tried to make out the Doctor's face. "Can you turn on the lights, please? You're freaking me out."