Mycroft had been right. It hadn't been difficult to persuade Anthea to provide the information he'd need to re-educate himself about the political intrigue of the last six years. Part of that information came as hard files that were too sensitive to be scanned into the system. The rest came as renewed access to the MI5 and MI6 computer systems. Of course, she had insisted they work at his house rather than at his main office or the club just to keep everything under the radar.
"Sir, may I suggest you read through these files first?" Anthea handed him the first several of the tall stack of files." Her expression was even more serious than normal.
The government official raised a single eyebrow in response as he took them. A quick glance revealed the information within involved his brother. "I thought I had been brought up to speed regarding Sherlock at the hospital."
"That was the sanitised version, sir." She started to turn away, but hesitated. "Sir, just this once, I am going to call on the trust you have developed in me from the years before your memory loss. Living though the months, years that are described in those files was... difficult for you. Please, Mr. Holmes, remember that your brother, John and Greg are safe and happy now." With that, she did turn away and retreated to her own workspace just outside Mycroft's home office.
Mycroft sat gazing after his PA, in a sort of shock. She had never spoken to him in such a manner before. He didn't think it was just because he had forgot such an event either. Anthea always acted professionally and never crossed the line into the personal. For her to do so now... He eyed the filed she had handed him with some trepidation.
Halfway through the files, the government official stood and walked over to his small bar and poured himself a brandy. As he considered what he had read, he sipped at his drink. For the first time, he found himself almost grateful for his amnesia. No, that wasn't true, but he couldn't say he wasn't grateful to be able to read the files from a bit of an emotional remove. All of the events with Moriarty were highly disturbing, not to mention the fall and it's aftermath. He had just started reviewing the Mary debacle. He dreaded where that would lead. With a sigh, he finished his brandy and returned to his work.
By the time he had finished with all of the files related to his brother, it was late in the afternoon and Mycroft had a pounding headache. Still, he was determined to push forward and start reading the other files which Anthea had organised by date.
He looked up at the sound of someone entering his office, fully expecting it to be Anthea, but it was Greg.
"You look like hell," the DI said, not pulling any punches.
"Anthea called you, then left," Mycroft said, leaning back in his chair. "That was completely unnecessary." He gave the lie to his words by covering his eyes with his hand.
"Clearly." Greg went around the desk and propped one arse cheek on it. "Look. I'm home. You're clearly knackered. Let me take care of you." The DI waited patiently for his fiancé's response, knowing better than to push.
Eventually Mycroft let his hand drop. "I'm not admitting to anything; however, a relaxing evening with you wouldn't go amiss."
"Good." Greg stood up and held out his hand. When the government official took it, he gave him a hand up. Together, they walked into the living room and sat side by side on the sofa.
The DI wrapped his arm around Mycroft's shoulders. "Anthea told me what you were reading today. I can't imagine it was fun. It certainly wasn't pleasant to live through, not for any of us. I'm just glad it's all over."
The government official let out a sigh. "I feel I should apologise to everyone for my part in the whole disaster. So much of it could have, should have been avoided."
"You did your best with what you knew. Besides, you have apologised and been forgiven." Greg turned his head and kissed Mycroft's cheek. "It's in the past and we've all learnt from it."
"But what will I discover tomorrow?" Mycroft leant his head on Greg's shoulder and closed his eyes, feeling enormously weary. He was grateful for Greg's presence. Without him, the night would have stretched out endlessly before him with just his thoughts for company.